Like father, like son

My grand munchkin at 2 months old

and 5 months old.

And his father, at about that age.

I look for the similarities and wonder...don't all babies sort of look alike? Cute, round, bald.

My horse of a different color

I drive an orange Mustang.  Grabber Orange according to Ford. It isn't a color everybody likes...but it grabbed my fancy the minute I saw it.

It's a little more orange than it looks in the picture. I find myself trying to find things to describe the color...Dial soap, school bus, road stripe, macaroni & cheese. Unfortunately, everyone knows those things are yellow. My car is orange.

A few months back, another orange Mustang showed up in the parking garage where I work. We kept crossing paths until I discovered that not only did we work at the same place and the same hours, but we live in the same neighborhood. We often find ourselves parallel parked adjacent to each other. I have seen people stop and take a double look. I was asked today if we knew each other...not prior to our unusual choice of color.

I have heard positive and negative comments. Not that it matters, I still like it as much as the day I bought it. My horse of a different color. My ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. 

Still breathing, still life

I have had very little motivation to write. That's unusual for me. I usually write to declutter my mind. It has been very still. Not stagnant, just quiet. Not happy. Not sad. Just holding the line, I guess. Lots of stress at work. Anxiety reactions to strange things. I've spent a lot of time reading, a solitary pursuit that I enjoy...19 books in 9 weeks might border on obsessive though. For the first time ever, I think, I drank an entire bottle of wine...over three days. Not so bad, right? Warmer weather and sunshine had me feeling perky this afternoon but it slid away like sand through my fingers.I am still trying for my silver lining. I don't give up so easily. I just need to find my fun again.

Still here

I suspect I am suffering from depression. I am not terribly sad, and I know that doesn't sound logical, but I am having anxiety issues. The anxiety seems to be based on a sudden, and unexplainable, fear I have of dying. Want more illogical? This sudden fear of dying seems to come from the fact that I have a lot of terrific things, large and small, planned out over the rest of this year. So if life is good, why would I be depressed?

Never said it had to make sense.

Birthday 2011

Yesterday, I turned 49. That means today, I start the march towards 50...364 days. My age does not bother me, it is irrelevant. The aches and pains of aging, however, are much harder to ignore. I really do feel the difference, not day to day, but about every 5 years I know I have become a little less agile. I find myself asking if I am "too old" for things. I assure myself that is society mentality. Why would I be too old to do things I enjoy? And, oh, how I can enjoy! I plan to celebrate over the next few days with friends...just an excuse to do what I always do, have a good time. So far this year, there have been no surprises...well, no big extravagant surprises, but after the last few years, I find myself on alert. My spidey sense is tingling. And if nothing is afoot, I will not be disappointed...but NEXT year...

 my 50th birthday will fall on a Friday.

Batten down the hatches, hoist the mainsail, hide your sons and daughters, 50 lashes...damn, got myself excited! Maybe I need to go sit in my rocking chair, this much excitement isn't good on an old girl.

Screw that.

Random thought of the day

Life is the one place, where when you loose something, it is seldom a good idea to retrace your steps to find it.

Life moves forward or it ceases to be life.

2011

Happy New Year

Again

Why do we hold such hope that the new year will bring something better? Great job, lose weight, find love, whatever...it is all possible with a brand new year. I guess the optimism makes for a much better New Year's Eve party. Like many things we add value to, the marking of a new year is a man-made event without any type of mystical significance. We get to throw out the old calendar and hang a new one. We have to learn to write a new number designation on everything. And we make resolutions that usually fade quicker than learning to write the new year. I partied with friends last night. Took down the Christmas tree this morning, for no other reason than it was time. I'll get around to the new calendar eventually. I won't be eating special food today for luck...NO corned beef, black eyed peas or whatever it's supposed to be. I'm not making resolutions. Instead, I'd like to say thank you to my husband for making my life what it is. We have influenced each other greatly over 30+ years. To my sons, I wish you happiness, contentment and safe passage in the new year. To my grandson, that is way too young to understand, the next year will hold more wonders and learning experiences...everything is new and shiny. So many firsts. Last, but definitely not least, I want to thank my friends for keeping me sane and occupied. You have touched my life...and, in some cases, me, in more ways than I could ever imagine. I am happy that you have allowed me to share in your life. So, happy new year everyone...may it be all that you desire.

Advice

Nurses have stories. They have seen about everything that can be done to a body, voluntarily and involuntarily. Part of my job frequently has me reading Emergency Department (ED), it's no longer ER,  notes. Many of the things I read are scary or sad...a few are nothing short of miracles. But every now and then I come across a tale so far fetched...

These often involve, um, foreign objects. That, would be something that doesn't belong in the human body. And in this particular instance, we'll limit the body to primarily one orifice...give me a break, I'm trying to keep this PG. As far as I've been able to tell, nobody ever walks in to the ED and tells the truth about how this mishap occurred. I often wonder how much time is spent concocting these stories (We also get them for how someone accidentally ingested drugs. And just so you know, nobody believes you passed out and just happened to breathe in the cocaine.)  Stories run the gamut from muggings that involved the placement of mysterious foreign object to all sorts of accidents...hanging curtains naked? Bet the neighbors adore you. Slipped. Fell. Say you can see it happening? The lube on the, um, object gives you away every time.

So here's my advice:

1. Never place an object inside a body cavity that was not specifically designed for the purpose. Any body cavity, including your nose and ears.

2. If you ignore #1, go to the ED, don't waste time making up a plausible ::cough:: story and take your lumps, fess up. You may be a little embarrassed, you were warned, but nobody is ever going to believe that story you're concocting.

Happy? Holidays

I often note that people, including myself at times, have a tendency to backlash when things become too politically correct. I mean sometimes it is just freaking ridicules. I have started taking note of those that grumble over the greeting, "Happy Holidays" a phrase meant to be all inclusive of the winter celebrations, like Season's Greetings. But it seems a good number of people feel their toes are being stepped on. They want to wish you a Merry Christmas...damn it. Did I mention that some of those grumblings include not very Christian like ideas...or words?

Let me explain how I see this...

After all...MY blog!

Wishing a close friend or relative Merry Christmas is just dandy. I assume you know these people well enough to know that they do, indeed, celebrate Christmas. Now, those other, not so well known folks you encounter may not celebrate Christmas. Now come down off your high horse, they are not all heathens...they just have different beliefs than what happens to be a majority in this country. Remember that tiny idea this country was founded on...freedom, including religion? Wishing a Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Wiccan or any number of religions, a Merry Christmas is like wishing everybody else Happy Birthday on YOUR birthday. They aren't celebrating what you are, when you celebrate. We no longer live in small towns or isolated hamlets. It's a big world out there. Embrace differences, learn about people. It does not mean that you have to give up your beliefs...just be aware that the entire world isn't like you.

Personally, you may wish me a Happy Holiday, Merry Christmas, Joyous Yule, Happy New Year, Happy Kwanzaa or Happy Hanukkah, as long as you wish me well, have good intentions and want to celebrate a joyous occasion.

Will there be gifts?

Ageism

I am 48...soon to be 49. 26 days. I have no issue with my age, but it seems others do. It seems there are things I am supposed to be too old for. Like playing dress up. Why is it that I am supposed to outgrow things I love? Somethings you outgrow, their usefulness in your life ceases. Playing with dolls would be a good example for me. Some people play with dolls well into their adulthood...they call them action figures. I just lost interest. I loved coloring books and crayons, sharing them with my sons when they were young. I learned to color inside the lines but never followed the rules...pink skies and purple grass. Small kids take issue when you don't follow the rules. As they grew older and the coloring books and crayons vanished, I "matured" into watercolors and acrylics. Unfortunately, I discovered I didn't do so well without someone else to draw the lines. Paint by numbers didn't capture my heart.

I still find great fun in dressing up, whether for a LARP or a goth club. Both excite my creativity. It is becoming that I am in the minority, age wise, but by no means the only over forty...or even forty-five. I guess it is much like playing with dolls, you give it up when it no longer holds your attention. No longer serves a purpose.

Now days, people seems to be amazed (the nicer of the words I can think of) by how I live my life. I should be settling down...after all, I have a grandson. I suspect I am supposed to be babysitting and baking cookies. Neither of these things have ever been high on my to-do list...well, maybe occasionally baking cookies.

I will continue to pursue those activities that engage my mind and speak to my heart...despite my age. I will play dress up with strange clothes and stranger make-up. I will dance to industrial music. I will run through the woods. I will howl at the moon...when I can find it. And if it makes you uncomfortable...go play with your action figures.

Guilt

Guilt is not one of my better emotions. I don't mean guilt, because I did something wrong, I mean guilt as in someone trying to manipulate me. I have had an over abundance of guilt, it was standard operating procedure for my Mom. She never seemed to figure out that it did not work on me...and often had negative consequences.

Tonight, a cousin...that I have had little contact with, by my choice, decided to post on my Facebook wall something to the effect of, It wouldn't kill you to call me or your Aunt (her Mom and my mother's sister), we are family you know. I deleted her from my friends and blocked her account.

Drastic? Perhaps.

Regrets? None.

I had accepted her friend request reluctantly...we have never been friends. She'll never know how lucky she was. I acted quickly and decisively...I could have posted back instead. Words are something I am very, very good at. I could have told her what I thought of her suggestion. I took the higher road. I grew up in that toxic environment. I am an adult now and will pick who I share my life with.

I did not book passage on your guilt trip. I'll just stand here and watch you sail away...to hell.

Nothing lost.

Cancun...in the future

We, five of us, booked a trip to Cancun last night. All inclusive, 4 stars, on the beach...in 4 months. I love anticipation. It is always nice to have something to look forward to...especially after the holiday rush fades and winter sets in. Sunshine, turquoise sea, white sand...icy cold drinks.

Riu Palace Las Americas

Can I start packing?

Recreating life

I have found my thoughts and opinions on many subjects have changed over the years...experience, age, wisdom? I don't know. One of those things I become painfully aware of this time of year. Like a lot of grown ups, and in my case I use the term loosely, I hate the holidays. Or more accurately, I guess I should say, I was beginning to hate the holidays. Life seems to have that effect. We lose loved ones, traditions fade, and the holidays are never the same. But thanks to some wonderful friends, that feeling is fading somewhat. We have started celebrating non-biological family holidays (why do you not change the y to i and add es on holidays?). The family you chose. We started with Christmas, and expanded to Thanksgiving this year. There are no petty squabbles, one-up-manship, sibling rivalries (though siblings are involved) none of the crap frequently encountered at family holidays. Nine of us sat around the dinner table last night, we enjoyed wonderful food and good conversation and easy companionship. I laughed until it hurt, literally. What a wonderful feeling. I am so glad they like my company and chose me as family. Next up Christmas. In the works...family vacation next Spring.

That place

I find myself in that place I try so hard to avoid. I don't know how I got here, or why. It is familiar. I have been here before. Familiarity does not make it easier. Actually, it makes it more frightening. I know. I have a knowledge of events to come...the possibilities. The darkness. I am trying to dig my nails in, to stop slipping downward. Life isn't cooperating with the plan. So tired. Makes it hard to fight. But giving in is not my style, not an option. I do not go quietly. There is no good night. I have to stay close to the light. It's too hard when the light dims. Can't find yourself there.

My, what big ears you have

In celebration of Halloween, I wore elf ears to work today. Now, I have a group of friends that would not think twice about seeing elf ears...but those are NOT the people I work with. I suspect the only time these people had ever seen anything similar was on TV or the movies.

The reactions were confusing at first. People seemed uncomfortable...almost embarrassed. Then one girl started laughing as she got a better look. She fessed up to wondering why she had never noticed that my ears were so big. This seemed to be the theme for the day. I got my money's worth.

Mish mash...odd thoughts

Welcome Fall...even though the temperature gauge isn't yet cooperating with my idea of brisk Autumn days. I have started noticing the trees changing, just a hint. I dread Winter, but I do love Fall. It is a weird fashion time of year. The temperature changes from morning to day, so that you're never sure what to wear. I notice some women, like myself, hold onto their Summer clothes as long as possible, while other women seem eager to pull out the boots and sweaters. I often notice how overdressed they appear when noon time temps hit 80.

My oldest son came home yesterday bearing gifts. His work had thrown him an Uncle Chris baby shower in honor of his younger brother's son. What a surprise. Surprise number 2 came when the youngest sent a thank you note back. I guess they really have grown up.

I'm still missing some things...but I gained a toothbrush. I have recently found there are several items that seem to have vanished into thin air. (I wonder where that comes from?) Nothing of value. Nothing anybody would particularly want...except, of course, me. I have looked high and low. Then the other day I get into the trunk of my car...and find a toothbrush. Brand new. Still in the package. But I had not recently bought a toothbrush, nor was it the type I would have selected...as I am very picky about my toothbrush. So now, not only does it appear I have a poltergeist of my very own...he's playing swap. I wonder who found my red and black arm sleeves.

I hope it was a burly man.

I am so proud

It did not occur to me until today how proud I am of my son. His son was born this past weekend. He is not married, he isn't even dating the Mom...they tried, it just wasn't meant to be. But he stepped up. He never denied the baby, he didn't walk away. He has been an active participant in her pregnancy. Going to doctor visits and birthing classes. He stood by her side through 10 hours of labor. He held her hand through contractions, he got her ice...he talked to her belly. He cut the cord. He whispered, "I love you" to his son. He stayed at the hospital with them for 4 days while they ran tests to make sure the baby was okay. Last night he stood in my living room talking about sterilizing bottles, umbilical and circumcision care and I wondered, who are you? This is not my reckless son, instead I saw a very proud Dad...a man. I hope this is the beginning of wonderful things for him.

Life changes

I am not always the biggest fan of change. I especially don't like it when I have no control over it. Yesterday, my first grandchild was born. I am unsure how I feel about this...not that I can change any of it. 

This is scary stuff. 

Beware an annoyed, sleep deprived, Momma

I was awoke this morning, at 4AM, by my son raiding the kitchen cabinets. I'd already had a rough night getting to sleep, and now I had to do it all over again...just to get up in a hour and a half.

As I related this story to a co-worker, I pointed out that he was over 18, so beating him with a stick technically would not be child abuse. She suggested domestic violence. Nope, I replied, he doesn't live with me. She laughs. Well, you can't just beat your son, she quips. There would be some law...

So I explain, I'm woke in the middle of the night by someone rummaging through my home. I'm in a medication induced haze, therefore confused. No court in the country would convict me for protecting myself, home and family.

Her reply...your son should be scared.

Snooze

I have never had an issue with getting up in the morning. Now, don’t misunderstand, I grumble and complain. But when the alarm clock goes off, I’m up and running…well at least stumbling. I have never, ever, used a snooze button. The whole concept escapes me. I have heard people say they set their alarm clock earlier, so that they can hit snooze. The theory, it seems, is a much gentler transition from sleep. I hate, HATE, an alarm clock, so I don’t want to hear it more than once. And how much more sleep are you getting?

The reason for this observation, is something, a joke of sorts, I guess, that I read. It was a list of “fixes” to everyday problems. One of which was...

Place a mousetrap on top of your alarm clock, and you’ll never have to worry about falling back to sleep after hitting the snooze button.

I found that immensely amusing for some strange reason.

Almost made it

I kept the tears at bay yesterday. I did really well. Until I went to bed. My mind wandered in and out and it suddenly dawned on me how really alone I am. There was nobody but me to mourn my Dad. Nobody that remembered. Nobody that cared. Nobody but me.

Some days just smack you in the face

I wrote the date this morning.

9/14/10

It immediately dawned on me...tomorrow will be the 4 year anniversary of my father's death. I went to the bathroom and gathered myself. Not only do I get the anniversary...I get the day before too.

I came home this afternoon and turned on the news. They were talking about the record breaking wind storm Louisville suffered two years ago. Jeez, thanks. That storm prevented us from celebrating my mother's last Christmas. Yes, in September. She knew she was never going to make it until December. She wanted one last Christmas. A tree was decorated, gifts were bought, a meal was planned. The storm tore through Louisville knocking down trees and electricity...it was weeks before the debris was cleared. Mom never felt good enough to reschedule her Christmas. She died 3 weeks later.

Yep, today has sucked.

Insight

I was driving down the road one recent morning when I noticed a guy walking down the sidewalk wearing a hoodie. I noticed this guy for several reasons, the hoodie had a design that I liked and it was bit too warm to be wearing it. On closer viewing, I noticed the guy seemed to be having a rather animated conversation with himself. As I drove past, I remarked, out loud, that I thought it was a little early in the season for a hoodie and weird to be talking to yourself as you walk down the sidewalk.

Of course, I was alone in my car...but it's okay to talk to yourself in the car. Besides I wasn't wearing a hoodie in 80+ degree weather.

Theme

I was told that a blog should have a theme. By having a theme...cooking, sewing, gardening, movies, books, aliens from the future, past or Alpha Centauri, people know if they want to read it. Common interests kind of crap.

First thought: How limiting. Second thought: I don't know enough about one thing to write about it day in and day out. Final conclusion: My blog has a theme...me. It's about whatever I want it to be about. It's about my thought, my feelings, my flights of fancy. So there...problem solved, I have a theme. One I know intimately. Is it interesting enough for people to follow...I do. So there, me and myself have something in common.

Knowing

When was the last time you knew exactly what you were doing?

I remember a time when I assured someone that I knew exactly what I was doing. In hindsight, I realize how wrong I was.

Of course a lot of things change in hindsight. It is easy to look back and second guess those moments in life. You only knew, what you knew, at that precise moment. And lots of things get in the way. But is it so terribly hard to know what you are doing? How about what you want? Or where you are going? Not in the day to day sense, but in the big picture kind of way. Do most of us just aimlessly wander about, randomly bumping into each other? Do your goals go beyond getting through this day, week, month?

Ever wonder...

about the erectile dysfunction (ED) commercial when they state, if you have an erection that lasts longer than four hours to seek immediate medical attention.


I did. So I asked a doctor I knew. He didn't know. So I asked a few more, all confused...about the treatment or by my curiosity. Knowing anatomy as well as I do (Points to self---nurse), I couldn't imagine any treatment that was going to be less than miserable. If for no other reason than sheer embarrassment.


This medical condition is called priapism. It occurs outside of the use of ED medications and from what I have heard is very painful.


According to my.clevelandclinic.org the treatment options, once you find a doctor that knows what to do, include...

• Ice packs: Ice applied to the penis and perineum may reduce swelling.
• Surgical ligation: Used in cases where an artery has been ruptured, the doctor will ligate (tie off) the artery that is causing the priapism in order to restore normal blood flow.
• Intracavernous injection: Used for low-flow priapism, during this treatment drugs known as alpha-agonists are injected into the penis that cause the veins to narrow reducing blood flow to the penis causing the swelling to subside.
• Surgical shunt: Also used for low-flow priapism, a shunt is a passageway that is surgically inserted into the penis to divert the blood flow and allow circulation to return to normal.
• Aspiration: After numbing the penis, doctors will insert a needle and drain blood from the penis to reduce pressure and swelling.

That just makes me cringe. This is what happens when curious minds inquire. And aren't you glad I shared?

I will warn you, just in case you happen to be reading this cross-eyed because of inflammation in your nether region and you think you'll just grab an ice pack and save yourself embarrassment and further pain...this is a medical emergency and your future "potential" is at risk. The sooner you are treated, the better your odds of um...returning to your previous activity.

Now go wash your hands.

Creepy crawlies

Everything you know is potentially wrong. I have made that statement before…and I’ll probably make it again. I am amazed by how much information I know, that is incorrect. A lot of this came from our Mothers, who presumably got it from their Mothers…who just didn’t know any better. Catch your death of a cold? Maybe. Because you went out barefooted or with your hair wet? Absolutely not! Colds are caused by viruses…not damp hair, or cold drafts.

My most recent adventure into the land of things I knew all wrong was after a recent trip to Otter Creek and the subsequent misery of chiggers. After several days of absolutely itchy misery, and refusal to paint my body with clear nail polish…as my Mother’s remedy (and husband’s) would suggest, I went to the good old trusty world wide web looking for remedy and relief. This is when I discover that all I knew about chiggers was absolutely, positively wrong…w-r-o-n-g! And somewhat to my relief, as I never found the idea of suffocating bugs while embedded in my skin as a particularly pleasant idea. This resulting in dead bugs decaying just under my epidermis…not good, not pretty, not particularly hygienic. I am not going to go into all the disgusting details, but chiggers do not burrow under the skin, they bite and feed. Nasty as that is, I still find it preferable to digging, burrowing and dying bugs on my body. As a side note, if you interrupt feeding, they die, as they have this one and only opportunity…so I feel some satisfaction in that, as I scratch in misery.

Burn Bibles?

I have recently seen snippets about a Florida preacher planning to burn the Koran on September 11th, in some manner of commemoration/protest. I say snippets, as I seldom ever turn the TV on and this idea just seems too stupid to me to investigate further. Generally speaking, I am against the destruction, in any manner, of books. Though I have read a few that I wondered how they ever made it to bookshelves…but I am sure they found an audience somewhere. Books are a valuable commodity to me, even if I don’t like them or disagree with their philosophy. The Bible holds no special meaning for me, it is a book, full of wondrous stories of miracles. I keep my family Bible out of sentiment. I have never had the opportunity to read the Koran, and doubt I would understand it. But I respect people’s emotional attachment to them both…and the freedom this country was based on to allow everyone the right to their beliefs. I can’t help but wonder how the preacher feels about the Bible being burned. Essentially that is what he is condoning, the destruction of a religious manuscript. Different religion, same artifact. I also realize this country allows him the freedom to burn a book of his choosing. I hope the Muslim community will not lump us all together. Unfortunately, this type of behavior, will most affect those Muslims most like this Florida preacher…extremist, narrow minded and bigoted. If there is a God, of any race, shape, color or creed, may he protect us from these idiots.

Mortality

Living forever is not an option.

Living good...is.

My Late Summer Vacation