Sense of loss

I have a strange sense of loss. The eye surgery to remove my cataracts has corrected my vision. I am no longer near sighted, at least in the left eye. The other eye will be corrected in just over a week. I have been near sighted all of my life. My glasses have been the first and last thing of every day of memory. In the near future I won't need glasses to see distant vistas...but I will forever lose my near vision. The vision I have known. They say it takes a few weeks for everything to settle. Right now I can't even see my watch with the corrected eye. I wonder how I will ever thread a needle again?

This was not elective surgery. I was very rapidly loosing my vision. Hopefully I will adjust...no hoping, I will adjust. There is little option. Just a strange sense of loss. I am not new and improved...I am new and slightly broken. But it will get better.

Eye surgery

Now that I can almost see...

I found out earlier this year that I had a hereditary form of cataracts. Fast growing, I was scheduled for surgery within months instead of years. I had the surgery on my left eye two days ago.

Prior to surgery I was extremely near sighted. Now my left eye is far sighted. I am wearing glasses with the left lens removed. Unfortunately, this is confusing my brain. I see better at distance on the left, but not 20/20 yet. I can't read on that side at all. There is a bizarre distortion and I am lacking depth perception...worse than before that is. I am extremely light sensitive. This morning I sat in the dark, wearing sunglasses, it took over an hour to get both eyes open and semi-focused.

I am  using 3 different drops, 3 times a day. One of those feels like soap. It's hard to do, but necessary. Especially since my cornea was scratched during the surgery. The right eye is scheduled 2 weeks after the first. I'm hoping it won't be so hard. At least both eyes will on the same page...far sighted.

Eye surgery

I had my surgery yesterday. I'd like to talk about it a little but I really can't see so well to type. I've pushed the screen on my laptop down onto my hands because it's too bright to look at. More later...hopefully soon.

Words

In hindsight maybe hindsight itself is a mistake--what's the point of following the trail of regret back into the past? It's not possible to chose a different path from the very one that brought me to the present, to this exact moment...

The Bone Thief
Jefferson Bass
page 59

A Mom's advice to her son on raising baby. Step one.

My promise is to not interfere unless it's life threatening. I did the best I knew how. I didn't always get it right. It's your turn now and you will too. But I have 26 years of experience that I didn't have back then. So maybe I'll have words of wisdom for you to lean against when it's 3 AM and you've been walking, bouncing and examining a screaming baby for the last two hours, and maybe not.

Relax. Take a deep breath.

Babies do not come with instructions. Yes, you can buy books. I even recommend it. But what may apply to 99 out of 100 babies, may not apply to yours. Your baby is 1 in several million. He hasn't read the books and doesn't know the rules they think he's suppose to play by. Rules, and advice, that change over time and even conflict from book to book. Listen to your instincts. Then direct questions to parents you trust. Maybe even your own, you obviously survived to adulthood. Listen to their advice...then pick and chose what seems right to you. Listen to your pediatrician. You picked one you trusted. Will you always get it right? Ha ha...no.

It may even feel that your baby is trying to frustrate you at every turn. He really isn't. That is sleep deprivation and fear. In the beginning, a baby's needs are simple...be comfortable; not wet, not dirty, not hungry, not in pain, not tired. Sounds simple. But it isn't, because you won't always be able to figure out what's wrong. And baby can't tell you, not in words...but he is trying to tell you. And will keep trying to tell you, screaming and crying, until you get it right.

Relax. Take a deep breath...and maybe a couple of Tylenol.

Mexico...the end.

We got home on time, with luggage. A nice change from last year. We even had car keys. Our flight from Chicago to Louisville was in the smallest plane I've ever been on...3 seats across.

Speaking of three...our room was on the 3rd floor of a building without an elevator. I don't know if I mentioned that. Maybe I worked off a few calories. Too much good food, too easily obtainable. But if you have a salt habit, as I do, you're in trouble. Apparently, they haven't heard of Morton salt...nothing flows from the salt shakers.

There were things about the hotel that weren't as good as last year. There were things that were better. The loud wedding reception Sunday put a big damper on my mood. I questioned if things were really off or if my expectations were too high. Having been there 14 months ago, things were not all new to me.

I still hope to go back. I have a few more adventures I want to accomplish that were not available to me this year.

Mexico...going home.

Going home today. Have to be in the lobby at 9 to catch the van back to the airport. More lines. More hurry up and wait. But for the blog, just a few more pictures...

Mexico Day 7

Sad to think about packing and flight schedules. Tomorrow will be a long, not fun, day. It takes a week to get used to being here. My minuscule Spanish comes more easily. I'm starting to roll my R's. I need longer to get past the sunburn. I wonder how long I could stay before getting bored to death...I'd like to try and find out.

We walked 5th Avenue this morning for some last minute shopping. It is really hot. I can't imagine being here in July or August. Come into the lobby, grab a drink. I'd love to go jump in the pool but I am just short of crispy and my sunscreen just doesn't seem up to the task. It's 86 degrees at 11:24 AM. The sky is blue, the sun unrelenting. By 1, I was taking my 2nd shower of the day.

The weather channel predicts rain the next 3 days...it doesn't make me feel better.






Our bed was turned down before dinner. We still only have one animal...towels must be endangered. Steve and I will be arguing over the tip.

Mexico Day 6

I've had 3 showers since yesterdays tour of the beach and I still feel like I have sand on me. Just a little more grit for the exfoliation. Appointment at 10. Yay!


How amazing. Full body exfoliation then moisturizer. She massaged my ears. That was new, but enjoyable. 45 minutes of wonderful. Purchasing a service at the spa allows you to use the facility for the day. After my treatment, I wondered about. I puzzled over the steam room and sauna...it's 90 degrees outside and plenty steamy. There are two hot tubs and two cold plunge pools...again something I'm not finding terribly inviting. But outside, there is a rain head shower in a little courtyard with a chaise lounge. I stand outside under cool running water and wash my hair.


The room was cleaned when we got back...lesson learned?


There is not enough time in the day. Breakfast, then a couple of drinks, you don't think about lunch. Then it's 2:30 so you try to eat a light lunch to make it until dinner. But everything is so good. There are certain things...fruits, vegetables, salsa, guacamole. Seafood is also pretty good, despite the sometimes odd preparation of it. One shrimp equated to 2 pieces of meat 5 inches long. I also tried octopus today. There is never room for dessert.


It was very, very hot today with not as much wind. Some clouds came rolling through but just kept going.

We have no idea what is happening in the world. It is such a weird disconnected feeling. Without internet or US news we are out of touch. Funny, they get a Korean and Italian channel.


There was a tequila tasting this evening. The sommelier taught the difference between tequila and mescal and the different varieties; blanco, reposado and anejo. Things I already knew. He gave samples of the first two, to demonstrate the difference aging makes, but he did not pour shots of the anejo. It can be very expensive and he had some pricey bottles. The one thing he taught me was how to sip tequila, you don't shoot the good stuff and he says you should only drink the good stuff.


Steve got pulled up on the stage by the entertainment committee tonight. He blames me. He said the only reason they picked him is because he was sitting with me. Just because Rosario winks and smiles every time she sees me, this is my fault? Wouldn't you know, I didn't have my camera.  


Another late night walking on the beach...and still no moon. There are probably a half dozen locals that have a new appreciation for the moon. They swear there is one.

Mexico Day 5

This morning, I finally convinced myself that I was bored and wanted to do something. Last year I had an agenda. There were things to do, places to go, adventures to be had. I doubt much has changed in 14 months, so I really don't have any need to explore. So, what to do? We headed down 5th Avenue after breakfast...made to order omelets and fresh fruit. The best fresh fruit. There are just some things that should be enjoyed while here. Destination...Cozumel. Why? Because it's there. The $48 ferry fee derailed me. Why pay $48 to cross to Cozumel for nothing but walking around? I can do plenty of that here. I've heard most things are more expensive in Cozumel because of the tour ships. So I decided to stay on this side of Mar Caribe.

We eventually found ourselves whiling away the afternoon in a poolside cabana sampling drinks brought cheerfully by a fantastic server/bartender. Lunch was of a liquid variety. After enough frosty drinks you are not hungry. I hate to think of the calories I've consumed in fruit juice.

I'm recognized by the staff. I think the tattoos make me easy to spot. They remember me.

Back to the room at 4PM and it hasn't been made up for the day. We've not had near the service we did last year from housekeeping. Only one towel animal so far. We had a menagerie last year.

I made my spa appointment for tomorrow...sugar and salt exfoliation. My semi-pinkness gives me pause. But I'm going for it.

We walked out on the beach, collecting some shells, sightseeing and stubbing my toes. Damn rocks on the beach south of the pier.

Our driver had explained that sand had been pumped from the ocean to add 50 meters to the beach. They were sandbagging this area last year. That rock, the one that removed skin from my toe, likely was a piece of old coral reef, or so appeared after I quit cussing and looked at it. I brought home a pocketful of shells and I wonder how long they had been at the bottom of the sea. We walked along an area where the sand was piled in a two foot drift above the tide line. The edges of shells peeking out from the layers of the sand...I felt like an archeologist.


Housekeeping finally showed up...when the door was locked. She jiggled the door until the lock released. Steve quickly pulled the blanket over our heads which directly led to my case of giggles. Which I'm guessing is what caused her to hesitate then back out the door. Have you heard me giggle?

Mexico...what day is this?

I have to stop and try to count. Day 4, Wednesday...I think. One day flows over to another. No time. No dates.  I have done more nothing than I think I ever have without being sick. Pool, beach, food, drink, sleep. I am sleeping a little later each day. The beds here are marvelous, soft yet firm, made up with crisp white linens and fluffy comforter. I wish I could duplicate it at home.












I find my happy place. I love the hammock on the balcony. I swing back and forth listening to the sound of the waterfall. I wake to a sound...not realizing that I was even falling asleep. It's not even 11 AM and I'm napping. I keep telling myself that I should be bored, but I'm not. I don't understand. This so unlike me.

Sometime between 1 and 2, it seems we always run for the glorious air conditioning of our room. Few spaces here are truly cooled. I envy the ability to have so many open spaces...but it does get hot.

You do this because everything you're wearing is wet, your drunk and you need a nap or just because the room is way cooler than anyplace else. You strip off your damp to drenched clothing, jump in a cool shower and sprawl across the bed under the ceiling fan. This is where I pretty much remain until sometime around 3.

There was a medical emergency in the lobby today. It was nice to see the fast response of the hotel staff. I don't know what happened, as I know better than to crowd around...unlike a lot of other people apparently. At least two people were involved. He was taken off in a wheelchair, she was loaded into an ambulance.

We have taken laziness to an all time high. Surrounded by gourmet food, we ordered hamburgers and fries from room service...but there was cheesecake. Just to prove my level of inactivity, I came in from the pool (trying to even out my sunburn) at 4:30 and haven't been further than the balcony. All this air conditioning, and possibly a little bit of sunburn, leads to a case of the chills this evening. What a great reason for filling up the jacuzzi tub and lighting candles.

Mexico Day 3

I ordered a mojito at the pool today. I thought of Erin...I am not a mojito fan but she makes them good. Sweet and refreshing. It is amazing how often I am reminded of the people at home by different things.

We took off for 5th Avenue for the first time today. Its a block from the hotel. It's something like 16 blocks of shopping, hotels, restaurants and entertainment. It was a good day to go, not as hot, nice wind blowing.

It's not nearly as crowded as last March. Last year this street was packed with people. Today I notice buildings, the architecture, that was hidden before. There are some very interesting buildings. Talking to the shop keepers, they say tourism has been down. Worries about violence that hasn't been seen this far south and H1N1. There are hand sanitizing liquids everywhere. The hotel even offers a H1N1 flu guarantee if you get ill within 14 days.



We wandered off the beaten path to discover sidewalks here are a challenge in themselves...different levels, different materials. It appears each establishment makes their own. You really have to pay attention. You will often find people out scrubbing the sidewalks early in the morning.

I can't blame the sidewalks for the nasty spill I almost had down this flight of stairs. I can't even blame the shot that preceded it.

We had just left the new coffee house, where I had enjoyed a shot of espresso and a chocolate truffle...making me think of Laura. Steve saved me. That would have hurt. A lot.

We wandered down to the beach and sat on one of the cabanas and watched and listened to the waves crashing on the beach. The surf seems higher than last year. So nice.

When we get back to the room, I discover I have reason to be grateful for Ginny's aloe. How did I manage to sunburn my back and the front of my thighs? Oooo crispy.

Mexico Day 2

Last night there was a wedding reception on the lawn, that green area, three stories down, between my room and the pool. It was sooooo loud!!! Even with the doors closed, the sound was overwhelming. And yet we slept. Getting up at an unreasonable hour and traveling thousands of miles will do that to you.


As I discovered last year, I was woke just after dawn, by what I have come to call the "alarm birds". On our first trip to Mexico, I thought a fire alarm was going off. They make a variety of noises, all of them loud.

I am not wearing a watch. I don't have my cell phone. The only clock I've seen in the entire place is the bedside alarm clock. This is not a place to track time. You eat when hungry. Sleep when tired. Drink when thirsty...but imagine my surprise when I ordered a drink and was told the bar was not open yet. They opened at 10AM. Hey, I'm on vacation...it's 5 o'clock everywhere. I later discovered the Lobby Bar opened at 9...just in case.

I drank my 3rd, 4th and 5th drink with lunch. It's hot out here, you have to stay hydrated. You have to appreciate lunch with a view. You just don't get this at home.





Shortly after lunch, it was nap time. It's the heat...I swear.





Later we sat out at the pool...even later we discovered Steve is capable of getting sunburned. They remind you, that you are a 1000 miles closer to the equator than anyplace in the states. Thanks to a friend, I had a bottle of aloe gel.





At the end of the day, the drink count was 8.

Return to Mexico...part 2.

We're flying north to go south, something I find totally bizarre, but it was the best option. I won't miss going through Atlanta, what a mess that was last year. Hopefully Chicago will be better. Steve was none too excited to see the chariot for our first leg of this trip...4 seats across, it's much smaller than what he has flown in before. But he made one comment and moved on. He has changed so much...in good ways. He grabbed the window seat ::pout:: but I still got to watch the sun come up over the wing.


We made our way through Chicago, stopping to grab a bite and a bicker...we can't do anything without bickering about something. Next stop Mexico!


Ahhh but there is in flight paperwork to complete for immigration and customs...damn, I forgot about this. So, I have no ink pen. I borrow one from the very nice lady sitting beside me...problem solved, right? Of course not. When we arrive, the nice, helpful, speak no English, ladies inside the terminal stop us all and tell us there is a new form...this is communicated by having the form pushed at you. Do they have pens? Of course not. This leaves me to begging to borrow a pen from other passengers that are in a hurry to get going too. I finally found a gentleman, that hovered the entire time but was willing to share his ink with me.


Sweet freedom! Playa, here I come...right after I stand in the immigration line. A new stamp in the passport, an hour or so later. Then the customs line...just a few hundred of your closest strangers. I did take the opportunity to warn people about the 2 legged vultures just waiting on the other side. Time shares are a big thing in Mexico and these people make used car salesmen look like anointed saints. They will tell you anything. As I sailed right past swatting verbal lures away like so many flies. Steve was almost snagged by the lady that proclaimed she had to verify our documents. Anyway, back to customs. You pass through screening like most airports, but at the end of stating you have nothing to declare and getting metal detected and such, you are told to push a button. This ordinary white button set in a white console. It looks so very innocent...until you push it and the red rectangle appears. Your life as you know it has changed forever. Nah, not really. But you are kindly directed towards inspectors wearing rubber gloves and are directed to open your luggage. This is Mexico's idea of random screening. When you push that white button, you get a green light or the dreaded, you're going to be later than you thought, red light. Fortunately, this is only a search of your possessions...and those of anyone traveling with you. So I suggest you know your travel companions. The inspectors only had issue with one item in my luggage...he wanted my Pepperidge Farms chocolate chip cookies. I wasn't about to argue, but he tucked them inside and sent us on our way...through the sea of vultures.

We made it outside where the sun is turned to high and located our transportation. After last year, I'd learned my lesson and paid extra for private transport. No waiting for everybody to get their act together. Finally we are on the road to heaven...is it supposed to be this hot?

It's a 45 minute ride to Playa from Cancun. Thankfully the air conditioning in our van works...that is not always guaranteed. The Royal is a shining oasis on a stretch of white sand and blue sea to tired eyes. Guess what? Room isn't ready...they had a late check out. Okay, the Royal is really good at trying to make things right. We are given our bracelets and sent to the Lobby Bar. Where a wonderful bartender made us absolutely incredible cold drinks. Including the best margarita Steve says he has ever had. I wish we had gotten his name. I think I would have stalked him all week. 

About an hour, and three drinks later, we are shown to our room. We are assured it is a quiet room, the last one on a hall on the third floor...in a building without an elevator. But it looks promising. One of the most annoying things last year was the foot traffic, rolling carts, outside our door. There is no reason for anyone to be outside our room. A quick look around, very similar to last year, as expected...except no chaise lounge. Steve is disappointed, it was his favorite place to read. But there is one pleasant surprise...we have an ocean view.

Return to Mexico

Getting up at 3 AM is crazy, especially when your alarm is set for the god awful hour of 4. But now days you have to arrive at the airport so far ahead of your flight...flight is at 6. I am excited to be going back, it's been 14 months. I think I left apart of me there last time. Arrival to destination 12 hours. God help us all.

An endless circle.

My son is going to have a son, he's going to be a father. My other son will be an Uncle. I will be...

I have had a while to try this new identity on for size and I still can't seem to get it to fit...grandma, mamaw, nana. I don't know any of those people. This isn't about age...hello, 48. I will be 50 in twenty months, 2 days. It's about identity. I have been a daughter, a wife, a mom. I have been a student, an employee and a housewife. Being the mother of a child with a child shouldn't be all that different from being the mother of the child. I had never been the mother of a child before the first child came along but I never thought about the role. I just accepted it. If you followed that logic, here's your A...that and $5 will get you coffee at Starbucks.

But as I write out that twisted tangle of logic, a light illuminates darkened corners. That is why I write. Sometimes, magical things happen at unexpected moments.

It isn't about the age or the title, one that will most likely be chosen for me by my son and I will have little control over, it's about the life changing event...that I had absolutely no control over. There will be this new little family member. He will change everything. Every holiday, every occasion, every thought. He will change everyone of us. He may even change how we see each other. Scarier still he may change how I see myself...nah.

May

Happy May Day. And for some, Happy Derby Day...may your hangover be mild tomorrow morning. May you find your car, your shoes and your wallet. If was a wet one. May marks the beginning of Summer despite what the calendar says. Soon gardens will be tilled, flowers pots will be planted, kids will be out of school...not all of these things make me happy. It is the month to remember Mom. Actually, that would be next weekend. You have been officially reminded.

Overbooked

I have a pretty busy life. That is my choice. I don't do well with bored. Idle hands and all that. But every now and then, as life would have it, something unexpected pops up into the middle of my busy life and I find myself scrambling.

Back in January, I was dreaming of warn white sand beaches, tropical sunshine and well, heaven. So I scheduled a week and a half off from work and booked a trip to Mexico. We'd gone last year, and was planning the return trip before we even left the country to come home. I was happy. I was excited. I had months to wait, but that was okay. It's alway good to have something on the horizon to look forward to.

In February, I made a trip to the eye doctor...one of those maintenance things required to keep me in good(?) running shape. I do this every two years. Surprise! I have cataracts. I have what? I'm too young for cataracts! Yes, I am told, this is unusual. If I had a dime for every time a doctor told me that...

Anyway, long story short...a few more trips, a lot of whining and complaining on my part, as this is all highly inconvenient, I am told I will need eye surgery. More whining, cue the violins. More doctor appointments, testing, prodding, poking, etc. Surgery gets scheduled, along with follow up visits, six appointments at four locations over the course of three weeks...nine days after I get home from Mexico. That means, count it up boys and girls, a trip out of the country and two surgeries (both eyes) in a month.

So now, my brain is swimming in self pity, tempered with utter exuberance...that makes me one slightly confused and highly over whelmed individual. I need to start making lists. Who am I kidding? I need to reorganize the multiple lists I've already started into some form of helpful stream of...what? Where am I?

Oh, who cares, I'll soon be drinking fruity drinks with the smell of sun tan oil, the sound of waves and cabana boys that want to get the senora a drink...no pity here.

Choices

I was asked, "If given the choice would you rather be smart or pretty."

I answered, "I would prefer to be interesting."

"That isn't one of the choices."

I replied, "That is what makes me interesting. I refuse to confine myself to the choices that other people limit me to."

I was assured, at the very least, that I would never be boring.

I can live with that.

Vision

I have always had the fear of losing my vision. I am severely near-sighted, four inches beyond my nose is about my limit. When I was a kid the eye doctor used to threaten that I would need a seeing eye dog if I didn't wear my glasses...guess we know where the fear originated. Over the years I have had issues with my eyes; flashes, floaters, etc. I have been told that my eyes are unusually oblong, causing thinning of their surface...wanna talk about an idea that will scare the crap out of you. I have had posterior vitrial detachment. I have been warned about retinal detachment. So I feel completely vindicated in my worry. 


Now, I am losing my vision. Not from any of the things I have been warned or worried about, but from cataracts. A cataract is a clouding of the lens. This is something most people deal with much later in life, usually in their 60's. I am a little ahead of my time. Cataracts normally develop over a long period of time, mine have appeared and compromised my vision in less than 2 years. My ability to see is declining on a measurable basis...in weeks.


In hindsight, I see all the measures I have taken to counteract the deterioration of my vision, the loss of detail and the increased glare caused by the foggy film inside my eye. All of my web pages that offer design options are dark...less glare. I bought a new living room lamp, put in brighter bulbs and ultimately bought a book light to get enough light to see the print. I've even found myself adjusting the brightness setting down. It's a fine line between needing more light to see and fighting glare.


Fortunately, this is all correctable. I can have surgery. I will have surgery...sometime in the next few months, first the left eye, then the right. I won't even begin to explain what a mess that is going to be with surgery, work, recovery, vision adjustments, glasses, medications, eye shields...driving. I get anxious just considering it all. I expect a course of 3-6 months before it is all said and done...assuming I don't get a secondary cataract, infection or any other unforeseen incident as they say in medical jargon. 


It is a small thing in the world of big and scary things. I work in the medical field, I know all about big and scary. But this is my scary thing, this is what sets heavily on my mind.

Spanking...teens

I caught part of a story the other day about a girl that had been suspended because of her prom dress. The part that caught my attention was when they stated she was the only one, of a dozen or so, that was suspended. The other girls had elected to be spanked rather than be suspended. WHAT??? Girls going to the prom, we're talking teenage girls here...and the school is spanking them as punishment? Are you serious? Where are all those civil liberties people and child advocates? Where are all the people that make parents fearful to even raise their voices to their children in public? Where is the public outcry? 

I have several issues with this. Mainly the fact that I don't think any school has the right to spank a child. That should be the parent's responsibility. Then the school can call the authorities and have you arrested for child abuse. Hello? Wake up call. Besides, aren't teen girls are a little too old for corporal punishment? Was someone getting their jollies? I have this mental image of a me twirling around, asking, "Do you like my dress?" Then flipping up the back and requesting to be spanked in a sultry voice.

Back in my day, after avoiding dinosaurs, you arrived to the prom in your much sought after finery. Most of the dresses were floor length, some were backless, some had sequins and some were slit up a thigh. Teen girls playing dress up. Girls today seem much more sophisticated than the girls of those bygone days...or maybe the fashion industry has discovered the depth of Mom and Dad's pockets when it comes to keeping princess happy. So I wondered what the schools dress code consisted of. One news story stated, "The dress code prohibits, among other things, transparent materials and revealing necklines. “Our community has certain expectations of what is appropriate,” the principal says." Most formal type dresses are not turtlenecks. If a girl has any gifts at all up top, there are going to be some revelations for some teen boy. Though I seriously doubt that it will be anything they haven't already seen.

I saw this girl's dress. It was turquoise, fluffy and diaphanous. She is not flat chested, but she wasn't hanging out of it either. It was above the knee, slightly. Not my style, but not objectionable. She didn't look like a whore, slut or pop star. She did not deserve a three day suspension. She did not deserve to have her once in a lifetime Senior prom ruined by small minded school officials. I never did hear if the girls that elected to be paddled were allowed to attend the prom. Spanking Senior girls for their choice of prom dresses...seriously Alabama, welcome to the 21st century. 

I like photographing flowers. They make me happy.

Unhappiness

I was at the grocery this morning, a Sunday morning ritual I could do without but a necessary bane to my existence if we are to eat. I was window shopping along the freezer case looking for new and exciting options (I found none) and an employee was behind me stocking another case. When an old woman, I say old in hindsight because of her behavior, turned the corner and loudly stated, "Well I can't even get through here! " Not "excuse me" or "pardon me" and when I say loud, I mean everyone on the isle turned. I pushed my cart forward to allow her to pass between me and the employee...who was unloading a big, heavy looking, flatbed full of boxes. She just stood there. I knew she had enough room to pass, I returned to staring at frozen quick meals. She then declares to the employee, "I guess I'm going to have to wait until you are done." Again, everyone turns to see who is disturbing their tranquil Sunday morning shopping. She begins to inquire how long he is going to be, how much he has to unload...he answered much more polite than I would have. Turned out she wanted something from the display next to where he was working. If she had walked to the front of her cart she could have simply reached the object of her desire, but instead, she berates him until he moves so that she could push her cart into the now vacant space and retrieve whatever it was she wanted. I could hope for tranquilizers or mood enhancers but I doubt those would be in the frozen food isle...though ice cream comes close. I wondered it she had always been such a bitch or was this some part of the aging process? I mean you never hear the term, young and crotchety. What made her so unhappy? What made her so entitled that someone should stop working and move to avoid inconveniencing her...why so inflexible? If I had wanted something dead where he was standing, I would have asked politely to be handed what I wanted. I just don't get it...there is enough shit in the world to deal with without your crotchety old ass being rude, way too early on a Sunday morning. 

Alice in Wonderland...the movie

I finally picked a day and decided I was going to see the movie,even if it was alone. A pair of friends rescued me from a fate worse than death, or so you'd think...my husband asked, "You're actually going to go alone?" He had no desire to see the movie. Other commitments had prevented me from attending previously when other friends went. Yes, I told him, I was going. After all I am a grown, strong, independent, woman...I can do things without having someone hold my hand. As I recall the movie opened March 5th, so 3 weeks ago. There were, maybe, six people in the theater with the three of us...maybe less. We were sitting up front and I did not count heads in the rafters. I really do prefer not sitting elbow-to-elbow with random, and usually rude and obnoxious, strangers to see a movie, so this suited me just fine. I had anticipated a lesser crowd, three weeks in, but not this small. But then I factored in that How to Train Your Dragon was opening this weekend. Anyway... I liked the movie. Should I just quit there? It is very visual. Sometimes I wished I could slow it down so that I could look at it. It seemed to move too fast. Yes, I understand the frantic pace is part of the movie's atmosphere...but I wanted to LOOK at it, absorb and take it in. There were many details that could not be overlooked, such as the Mad Hatter's eyes and the Red Queen's head, or more accurately, I suppose, her proportions. Not that either was a big surprise, these things were evident in the trailers and abundant press releases. Alice's declaration, "I make my own path." may be the movie's most memorable line. Don't believe me, Google it. It touched a chord with me...that grown, strong, independent woman that I am. But one of the movie's biggest flaws, was the garbled dialog. There were a couple of occasions when we were unable to decipher what the characters had said. That, is unforgivable. I couldn't help but think of Joan of Arc as Alice rode off to do battle. The armor, I think. Someone had an amazing time, and much effort was spent, in simply keeping Alice clothed. With great success. Loved the clothing. Unlike the book, Alice's clothing doesn't simply shrink and grow with her. The movie could have been longer. It is one of the few times I am curious about deleted scenes. There could have been so much more. And at the end, when she rides off into the sunset, I had an actual moment of fear that she might declare herself, King of the World.

In the middle

Why do we have middle names? It isn't like most of us use them, and for some strange reason, they often seem to be a source of embarrassment.

My parents chose to use my middle name as the moniker in which I am identified. This has caused me endless problems, as the world seems bound, damned and determined that I WILL use my first name...my God given name, as I have heard it referred to. Quite honestly, I doubt God really cares what name I use.

There were teachers in school that insisted on calling me by my first name, then complained that I was ignoring them. They could have picked any random name and tried getting my attention with as much success. It just wasn't something I recognized...unless my mother was yelling and strung my entire name together. At which point, I knew my ass was grass and she was planning to be the lawn mower (ever wonder where those phrase come from?)

When I started my current job, they asked what name I wanted on my name tag. I wrote my middle name, MY name...they put my first name. Surprising as it would be to most people, 13 years ago I wasn't as brash as I am today. Today I would make them change it. Back then, I just clipped it on and went on my way. It took me a while to realize, why I always felt like I was in trouble...the only time I'd ever really heard that name.

Now, I am used to it. It's actually kind of nice, having a work identity and a home identity. Of course, add in the half dozen nicknames I've picked up and I have a name, and a personality, for every occasion.

But still I wonder, where and why did the practice of middle names come into vogue? I'm guessing you needed a Jim Bob to differentiate from Dad Jim and Grandpa Jim cause nobody in the family had an ounce of creativity.

Maybe I'll ask the smartest person I know...Google.

Reasoning

1.
It amazes me how often people's brains, hearts and libidos/hormones aren't on the same page.

It amazes me even more, how often people are guided by the ones that can't actually think/reason.


2.
I have an idea for an iPhone app...50 ways to injure the idiot sitting next to you.

I could give them a head start on ideas.


3.
I'm sure you've heard the advice, live every day like it's your last.

Who would be at work?


4.
Why are some people always unhappy?

I think it becomes a habit. A habit I am trying really hard to avoid.

Great words

"The next words out of my mouth would make Jesus cry and the Devil shudder...you don't need that kind of hassle."

My son's words when asking to talk to someone's manager and they hesitated.

Growing old sucks

But I'm not old yet...or at least not as old as I should be for the problem I have.

I went to the eye doctor a month ago for my routine eye exam. He told me that I was developing sub-capsular cataracts. A form that tends to grow rather rapidly. He explained that this type of cataract has more to do with heredity than age. Well I'll be the first to say my genetics suck!!! Both parents with diabetes, both with open heart surgeries and both died from cancer. I do not have expectations of living a long life. But I can't recall them having cataracts...just not as dramatic, I guess.

I picked my glasses up a week ago and have been struggling with them ever since. My vision is just not right. Only once in the many years I've been wearing glasses has the prescription been wrong in a pair of new glasses, but I went in today to have them checked out.

I can barely make out 20/40 in my left eye what I was seeing 20/20 a month ago. He adjusted, both for stronger and weaker, and neither improved my vision. The doctor said the cataract has grown enough to move into my field of vision. It's like having a Vaseline smudge on my glasses. The good news, it's going to keep getting worse. The bad news, it requires eye surgery. He says they can restore my vision, possibly even eliminating my need for glasses...but the idea of eye surgery terrifies the living crap out of me.

2012

I don't have to look at the DVD cover to tell you this is one l-o-n-g movie, but I did...158 minutes. It seemed longer. There are several potential reasons. One, we had to stop half way through, when company stopped by. Second, we had issues with the DVD and ultimately had to move it to the X-box and start over. And lastly, even though I have a weird fascination for disaster movies, this one just never grabbed me by the seat of the pants and took me along for the ride. Of course number three could have been greatly influenced by the first two.

I am going to contradict myself now. I hate movies that spend the first half developing the characters before you get into any action. 2012 didn't do that, but because the characters weren't developed I didn't feel any attachment to them. There were only two characters that seemed to stand out, the crazy guy (Charlie Frost, we'll get back to him in a minute) and the asshole, selfish, filthy rich Russian guy that you hope gets his in the end.

Now back to Charlie Frost, as promised. It was one of those movie moments when a character comes on the screen and you zero in. Looking closely, I questioned, "Is that Woody Harrelson?" Indeed. There are a number of known, recognized actors in this movie. Woody was not as easily recognizable.

The movie starts in modern day and quickly movies toward 12/21/12, the date many say the Mayan calendar predicts as the end of the world. Last year I had the opportunity to talk to a man in Tulum, Mexico that specializes in Mayan history. He laughed at the notion. He said that December 2012 isn't the end of time, only the end of the calendar. Like our end of year, the Mayan calendar simply starts over.

I will admit watching the world being torn apart by earthquakes and flooded by tidal waves after recent global events, was a little creepy.

An Alice in Wonderland inspired party

We had an Alice party for a friend's birthday recently. I was rather impressed with our Humpty Dumpty center piece. Humpty was just adorable all by himself. Then surrounded by deviled eggs in the center of a chess board...surrounded by all the king's men.

I took some liberties with the tea party...with very good results.

The decorations were simple, but universal.

I made an unusual Queen of Hearts.