Saturday, November 9, 2019

TO HEAVEN AND BACK


See this man in the picture??

OMG. Seeing him was one of THE freakiest yet heart warming, but still… freakiest moments of my entire life. I kind of shudder still, thinking about it, but I just couldn’t beLIEVE what happened to me about 2 weeks ago. In Denny’s restaurant, no less.

I went there with my girlfriend because we both decided we wanted breakfast for lunch and Denny’s was the only place where we knew we could get eggs, pancakes, etc. at 12:30 We ordered, we got our food, and then bingo. It happened. Right smack in my line of sight, a couple of  tables beyond, who should I see, but uh…

MY FATHER!! HIS SPITTING IMAGE. HIS EXACT CLOTHING. HIS EXACT POSTURE. AT 86 YEARS OLD! SITTING THERE, HAVING BREAKFAST, TOO!

I could NOT stop staring at him!! I TRIED looking at Betsy. I TRIED conversing with her. But… I couldn’t. I HAD to stare at my Dad, instead! To make matters worse… I then became addicted to taking pictures of him over and over again. I mean… really.

WHO THE FUCK GOES OUT TO EAT AND SEES THEIR FATHER ALIVE AND WELL, 12 YEARS AFTER HE’S PASSED AWAY?? Absolutely nobody does!

Well, nobody except me, that is. Talk about from earth to heaven and then back to earth again! Holy shit. It was NUTS. So much so that while my stomach was pretty much jumping all over the place, I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to finally go over and actually TALK TO MY DAD.

So lickety split, as if my feet had a mind of their own, I headed over to this stranger and proceeded to tell him how I could not stop looking at him for the past 25 minutes. I told him how he looked exactly like my Dad, how I just had to come speak to him, and how I loved seeing him. At which point, the guy sweetly took my hand and kissed it twice. I was so thrilled yet so sad seeing my Dad once again! IT WAS AMAZING. And… startling, too.

We spoke a few moments, and he introduced me to his wife, whose bright white hair reminded me of my Mom’s, but not nearly as beautiful as she was. She too, was very sweet to me, which, while my reincarnated Dad made we weepy, his wife made me smile. I was soooo happy I had gone over to speak to them both.

Of couse now, I could shoot myself altogether for not getting his name, etc. for I would LOVE to speak to Dad over and over again. I have a feeling that every Friday I had better get my ass over to Denny’s just to see more of my Dad. Downing a couple of blueberry pancakes wouldn’t hurt, either. 

All I can tell you is: I can only pray everyone in this world has a chance like I did, to see their parent just one more time. It will make you remarkably queasy for sure, but will also make you unbelievably jubilant at the same time. I can’t even explain the juxtaposition. I just know I was thrilled at this one last chance to again, see Dad one more time. 

It makes me cry, knowing how much I miss both him and my Mother. I would love their being able to see me at 71 years of age. If only. Anyway, I loved both my parents dearly and will miss them for ever and always. For now, however…

Thank you Dad for visiting me at Denny’s! I will never forget it for the rest of my life. Then again… how can I be SURE this wasn't my real Dad? Easy. Were he actually my Father... he would have totally picked up my check!    

Friday, November 8, 2019

SOOO DAMN WEARY


Thanks to the Watergate Hearings, I am a major political junkie, and have been for almost 50 years. Watching Sam Ervin was sheer constitutional majesty to me.  

Even today, I bypass every Netflix show all my friends rave about and have no clue of what they speak as they do a verbal re-run of all the latest episodes from a zillion TV shows. In fact, I am the only person I know that has never seen GAME OF THRONES, nor THIS IS US. Instead, I religiously watch, every political talk show possible, as long as it’s not on FOX. I would NEVER watch that channel given they are idiots, pawns for the President and have no interest in speaking truth.

Lately however, I have become soooo fucking weary of having to hear or see or analyse Trump and have had to work hard to cut my political addiction in half. Discussing him has totally taken a toll on my psyche, which I am glad to say has always been pretty healthy. Lately however? Oh man. I’m this short of jumping off a cliff just to spare myself watching the destruction of our magnificent Constitution… which btw, the President does DAILY. He lies, He cheats, he has zero brains and even less moral character. He's certainly not taken so much as a 9th grade Civics class. So…

What to do to substitute my political viewing? Bingo. A couple of months ago, I went to my alltime favorite… watching bullshit situation comedies. I know. Most are horrible but you can almost rest assured that I am staring at the show regardless, and probably even chuckling to myself. 

So what show have I been recording most, to ease my mental health weariness?? But of course, the BEST show ever… FRENDS. It has been a MAJOR relief in escaping the 24/7 side show of Donald J. Trump. Believe me… I watch Friends and boom. I’m happily in escape heaven.

With that in mind, I decided to record all the episodes, not knowing that apparently Friends airs 6 shows per day. Maybe even more. So basically, within a week, I had my DVR filled with a HUGE amount of episodes before you could say Jack Be Nimble. Within a month, I had hundreds of shows recorded and although I tried to see as many as I could per day, there was NO way I could ever catch up. The airings were coming at me fast and furious and unless I watched each recording for 24 hours a day, I couldn’t even begin to come close to being able to watch them all and then delete. IT WAS CRAZY.

Sooo… finally I caved. With hundreds of episodes filling up my entire DVR daily, I held my breath and… gulp… deleted all my unseen  recordings. Boom. ALL OF FRIENDS WAS GONE FOREVER. Well… until the next day, that is. Before I knew it, WHOA. My DVR was once  again getting out of control with all the accumulating shows, all over again! Meaning: that within days, I had hordes of recordings I had still yet to view. Talk about the remedy becoming worse than the problem. So fucking crazy.

Which is too bad, because once Trump, let alone Guilliani, got airtime with the whole Ukraine quid pro quo deal, I needed comedic refuge more than  ever! This is like an endless circle of Trump vs. Friends. And… Trump is totally losing; well that is, until of course I get to actually view his impeachment which btw, will tickle me to no end! Regardless of the fact I already know there will be no conviction in the Senate. I don't care. Just envisioning the White House freaking out day in and day out, is satisfaction enough for me right now. 

Plus sadly, Trump is  becoming more and more crooked with each passing day. As is every Republican in Congress, which makes me wholly discouraged. Watching our entire Constitution, a document of sheer sanctity, become shredded by our President and our Republican Representatives and Senators, is just so depressing. And oh, so wearisome.

Thus… thank you Monica, Ross, Phoebe, Chandler, Rachel and Joey from the bottom of my heart! You are totally helping me to maintain my already shaken sanity. And… screw you to anyone who votes for Trump in the 2020 election. You should all rot in Hell for ever and ever. On the other hand… the way things look nowadays… Trump could even be gone by then! If only. Oh yeah…

And btw… don’t even contact me next week. I will be glued to what else… the House Impeachment Hearings!! I will love every second of it, believe me. Well… except having to watch Jim Jordan that is, who makes me want to vomit altogether. By the time each day’s testimonies and then the analysis airings each evening are over, I’ll need an episode or two of FRIENDS for SURE. 

After all… that’s what friends are for, right??  





Tuesday, August 20, 2019

ROCKY RACCOON???


Awww… what sweet little faces raccoons can have. Except for THIS one, that is. EEKS. Talk about vicious looking! I would totally consider THIS an animal just this side of ferocious vermin. I of course would NEVER go near a raccoon. Why would I?? They are totally creepy and their claws are ridiculously long. Plus... I would never go near one like the one up above. Talk about evil looking!

Which brings me to last Thursday when my neighbors were loading up their moving van to finally pull out of Dodge. For being mere laymen in the moving department, these folks could so be great competition for the professionals, btw. They had about 4 strong family members with heavy duty muscles helping them to load everything onto the HUGE moving van and they were about as organized as any group of workers I’ve ever seen. It was incredible and trust me… this made for fantastic entertainment, watching everyone work like clockwork.

And what gets me… after two full days of loading up two moving vans, starting very early each morning, the neighbors THEN got into the van and headed off to Dallas to their new 4000 sq. foot home with a pool. Driving about the first 4 hours before they stopped for the night. Which, to my calculations, would bring them to their hotel by about 11:00 that evening. AFTER loading everything starting at about 8:00 that morning. WHO HAS THE ENERGY TO DO THAT ALL DAY LONG AND THEN HEAD OFF FOR A ROAD TRIP TO DALLAS?? Oh man… to be young and foolish is all I can say. And btw… they aren’t so young. Both the husband and wife are over 50. I can’t even make a dinner party for 8 anymore without a 10 day window for preparations! For 12, I’d begin even sooner. Anyway…

One the final day of the move, I stopped by as I was coming home, to say goodbye to everyone. I also checked out the empty house with the wife, reminding both of us what our homes looked like the day we moved in. Oh yeah… their house hasn’t even sold yet, but given the wife reads her bible religiously, no pun intended, she has put her faith wholly in God, knowing He would surely lead them down the path to a successful sale. No offense, but God has yet to give the folks even one offer in over 2 months, nor did any amount of praying keep them from having to lower the price twice already. And, when I say pray, I mean pray. The neighbor would never consider beginning or ending her day without reading or memorizing every passage in her beloved Bible.

I need to go off on a tangent here for a second, for I am mighty intrigued that these folks are soooo heavy into God and the Holy Book. Seriously. Now don’t get me wrong… I do believe in God and I have often prayed to God. But I totally would never hand over my entire life to him, to basically allow God to make all my decisions for me. Plus, I couldn’t begin to quote a passage or verse in the Bible if you paid me. Wait. I do know the 23rd Psalm by heart, but that is about it. But the neighbors?? Man. They are soooo into their Bible that I am telling you… either one of them could be preachers or missionaries at a pulpit in a New York minute, citing every verse you’d ever want to know. And oh yeah… being almost anti-gay and adoring Trump doesn’t help me in the truly-bonding-with-them department. In any case…

As I was outside watching them load up the moving van and chit chatting with the wife, they happened to mention the big raccoon that has been on both our front lawns all day long, sunning himself and having a grand ole time just hanging around. The husband TRIED shooing him away the day before but apparently this kind of vermin seemed to love his new found home. Okay. So we said our goodbyes, and I walked back to my car, which was parked in front of their house...where naturally, the raccoon decided to settle in for a snooze. I even had to have the husband walk with me to my car so this creepy creature wouldn’t God forbid, attack me. I was even at my front door as they pulled away in the moving van, waving goodbye and wishing them good luck.

It was then that I saw the raccoon playing all over my front garden, investigating every bush and plant on my property. If HE had the money, I bet HE would have bought the house and stayed for life. Unfortunately he couldn’t, however. Why? Because… get this.

When I woke up the next morning, what should I see but two police cars parked right smack in front of my lawn. There I was at the computer, reading the morning news, looking out my window and I imMEDiately stood up from my chair and walked to my front door, opening it to ask the police what the hell was going on. GET BACK, LADY! CLOSE THE DOOR! DON’T LET YOUR DOG OUT! A RABID RACCOON IS RIGHT HERE ON YOUR FRONT LAWN AND BTW… YOU ARE GOING TO HEAR SOME GUN SHOTS!! 

Holy Shit! Are you kidding me?? Man vs. Beast right before my very eyes?? Talk about an unexpected way to begin my day!

The two policemen were ADament that I safely go in residential lock down mode while they do in the animal. EEEKS. It was crazy. So as soon as I closed the front door, I ran right smack back to the computer room and watched the entire take down. First grabbing my camera, of course.

And then… I naturally took pictures right through my screened windows so I could immortalize this moment for ever. Like when would this kind of deal ever happen again?? Uh… never, that’s when. Oh yeah… and by the way… it took two shots to kill this creature. LOUD shots, too. I even had to supply the cops with two large garbage bags to transport this animal to only God knows where.

I am so telling you. This event was totally freaky and unsettling to me. Down below btw, you'll see some of the pictures I took of this crazy ass scene. I particularly love the expression on the policeman who did the actual shooting because in his face, you could see he was pretty nervous about having to face this creature. Were it a bear, which is not unusual to see around here, he would have fainted altogether. 

So... I am basically raccoon free now, ridding myself from a crazy attack and possible death. Thank the Lord. Which btw... is something my neighbors verbalize aLOT. Afterall... God IS their major guidance for all things in life. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.  


1. First sign of trouble



2. Sizing up the problem 


3. OMG. Ready. Aim. Fire!



Getting rid of the evidence




         

Friday, August 9, 2019

KEEP ON TRUCKIN'


I don’t get it. Everywhere I look outside my computer room’s front window, I see nothing but black pick up trucks. It’s been this way for years, beginning with my next door neighbor who first started parking his orange van in the driveway.

His Volkswagon van from the 60s. And, not just painted orange and white, but a major tribute to the Clemson football team which the guy idolizes. He’s 50, btw. Way past his college day years. You knew right off the bat the van was a tribute to Clemson because the whole damn thing was covered in Clemson logos… tigers, big paws, curtains, championship stickers… don’t ask. The fucking van looks like a monstrosity. Thank GOD he, after 5 years, finally either sold it or moved it somewhere else. I was thrilled to say the least.

Next thing I know, the same year the monstrosity was moved, boom. In it’s place comes a big black truck that belonged to his son while the kid was in college. I hate the truck as much as I did the van. Apparently the kid graduated college so now the neighbor decided to keep the truck for himself for another 5 years. Granted… the truck was shiny and all but seriously. Since when do I live in a used truck lot?? Better the guy should have parked his white Lexus outside.

On the other hand… the family has decided to move! Yay me. I’ll never have to see these ugly vehicles ever again. Except… I do. So get this…

I’ve been having a raging war inside my head, now with the guy ACROSS the street from me instead of next to me! About a year ago, HE decided to… sitting down??… park HIS black truck right smack on the street! Is this a joke?? Now I’m staring at yet another black truck everytime I look out the window?? It’s driving me nuts to say the least. We do NOT allow onstreet parking in my neighborhood! Well, except for this guy, apparently.

Turns out we all have two car garages plus ample parking in our nice sized driveways. The guy accross the street can’t use any of this however, given 1.) his garage is filled to the gills with what looks like a baby catamarand and all kinds of gargage junk 2.) his adult daughter moved back home with her now 3 year old baby and car and 3.) the wife has a car, so that means the two of them need to park in the driveway. Which means the neighbor now needs the street for his ugly black truck. It’s totally ridiculous.

So… since I’m on the Board of Directors for my Homeowner’s Association I finally decided to air my grievances to the President. I explained not only does a truck on the street totally ruin the look of our otherwise stunning neighborhood but more importantly, it poses a possible danger, given one now needs to drive AROUND the truck to continue on the street. Which at night means: it makes it tricky for not smashing head on to an oncoming vehicle. 

I also explained that I do not want to create any bad blood with this rule breaking neighbor, and would appreciate it if he, as President, would please address the issue FOR me. Mr. Prez said SURE. I’LL TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT. Yay resolution.

Except not so fast. I first mentioned the problem to the dopey looking President in February, let’s say and I’ve mentioned it to him several times since. And, I mean several. Plus, I’ve asked him to please let me know how the conversation went down, what the result was, etc. Uh… no such luck. I’ve heard nothing. No wonder. The guy hasn’t yet HAD a conversation with the neighbor. This is so hard?? It takes 6 months to accomplish this?? Fuck them both.

At this point, I’m ready to shoot the truck owner AND the President. I am totally getting no where… and fast. You can’t iMAGine how frustrated I am. Thus… I guess I’ll never get help nor rid the problem. So basically… I took matters into my own hands.

I quit the Board of Directors. That’ll teach ‘em!

I decided why the hell should I continue to work on this Board if I can’t even get deserved help in ridding myself of this stupid truck. Let them find some other sucker to take my place. Besides… when I accepted this position, I was told it was for a 2 year stint. Naturally, true to form, I then immediately began the monthly countdown to the end of my tenure, so looking forward to the completion of my Board service. THEN all of a sudden, a couple of months ago, when service was supposedly over, boom. I’m told: No. Not 2 years. THREE! Which now makes the President not only a schmuck, but a liar, too. (uh… sound familiar, btw??) Regardless…

Two days ago I emailed the President and made up some floosey excuse of why I needed to resign, hoping he’d understand and thanking the Board for all the effort they put into keeping our neighborhood as wonderful as it is. Two can play at this lying game, right? I have to admit I loved every second of this resignation. And oh yeah... after months of getting no info whatsoever about this truck bullshit, how long you think it took for me to hear from the Prez??

Boom. Next day.

Now, all of a sudden he finally tells me how he’s TRIED calling Mr. Black Truck, but his calls haven’t been returned. THEN GUESS WHAT?? WALK ON OVER TO HIS HOUSE AND KINDLY EXPLAIN THE SITUATION! OR EMAIL THE GUY. OR SOMEthing! What an asshole. Actually… now that I think about it… I am TOTALLY going to miss the goodies the wife puts out for us to munch on during our meetings. Of course, I’m pretty much the only one out of four, who downs most of the treats, but who’s counting. Two weeks ago she served homemade chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting and they were mighty tasty, if I say so myself. I'm going to miss the delicious cheese and crackers, too. Anyway…

Mr. Head of the Board emails me that he’s sorry to see me go but he understands, which basically means he fell for my completely crazy ass fake reason. And as I said… it was in his last paragraph that he threw in the bit of trying to reach Mr. Black Truck. Which is probably a lie, too, but at this point who cares.

Via my resignation, I’ve definitely claimed a personal victory in my war between these two folks. A victory that probably is going to come back to bite me in the ass sometime but still… a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Or… a woman.

3 HOURS DOWN THE DRAIN


Man… talk about 3 hours of my life I’ll totally never get back.  Plus… I’m so mentally whipped from it all, that it’s nuts. That’s the bad news. The good news is: my new cordless phone system is now in place. Holy ba holy is all I can say.

It all started about 6 months ago - maybe longer. The hand sets to my main cordless phone base all began to sort of have a life of it’s own. As in: in the middle of a conversation, boom. A crazy ass LOUD buzzing noise would occur, rendering the inability to continue conversing with whomever was on the line with me. For the other person, there was a dead silence yet for me I head this loud noise. At first it was just momentarily but then, as time went by, it became longer and longer. Like maybe for 45 seconds, which in phone language is pretty long.

I lived with this bullshit for a long time but FINALLY I broke down the other night and logged onto Amazon to order a new Panasonic Cordless Phone System with five satellite hand sets. I may have even written about this maybe 6 or 7 years ago, when I had to replace the system the first time around. In any case…

I am NOT that person who, like so many, have ditched their land lines in favor of carrying their cell phones around the house 24/7. I find that a totally ridiculous option given I can almost promise you that 1.) the cell phone will be in another room completely and 2.) I’ll never know what hell room it would be in, anyway. Thus… racing all over the house is so not my cup of tea.

Enter: the 5 cordless phones and bases. For ME, this is definitely the trick set up. Hence, I have a landline in my kitchen, computer room, family room, bedroom and sewing room. Best of all, I never misplace a phone nor ever have to chase one down. Complete bliss for a lazy ass like myself. Anyway…

The new phones arrived today and like I’ve done twice before in the past, I happily opened the package to begin the charge and then program the phones for all the options I love. I began with the main hand set and things basically went along pretty well. Until I got to the option of naming each of the handsets to show up on the display panel. Which is kinda important, so that I know which handset goes in which room. Case in point: the phone for my bedroom reads: MASTER BDR. It’s a totally easy procedure. Well, supposedly, anyway.

Par for the course, NO where on the setup options did I find how to actually name the individual handsets, which is an option of MAJOR importance to me. At one point, I even began to panic a bit, imagining there might not even BE that option on these new phones. So okay. I finally caved and tried calling Panasonic support. Don’t even ask. Like so many other big company support services, speaking to customer support, it and of itself, was an insane circus. Oh yeah. And btw… of COURSE I had no interest in thumbing through the manual to find the answer, since as I’ve mentioned before… I am too damn lazy. I’d much rather have some guy in India take 2 hours to tell me what to do. But whatever. 

Thus… given the support insanity, I just hung up and decided to live with things as is for the time being. I was just too spent to proceed for the moment and went to sit down in the family room and began to gather up all the packing garbage to put it in the phone box and make my floor look half way decent again. Lo and behold I came across the owner’s manual and casually flipped through it only to land right smack on the page I needed for naming handsets!! Talk about miracle of miracles. I was delighted way beyond belief!! Best of all… after  reading the very easy directions, bingo. MY PHONES WERE NAMED AND ALL OPTIONS WERE THEN COMPLETED. After a mere 3 hours, mind you but by then, who cared. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Seriously. The relief I felt was indescribable.   

Oh yeah… a good 30 minutes at least, were spent on merely creating my answer machine greeting. You’d have thought I was the CEO of the Panasonic Corporation itself and needed THE perfect greeting or something. Naturally, I finally just settled on the most boring of all greetings: HI. I CAN’T GET TO THE PHONE. PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE. THANKS.  I know. I know. Entirely mundane but who cares.

So for now, despite the 3 lost hours, I think I’m back on the grid. Hopefully… without the piercing buzz on the phone line. Thank you Alexander Graham Bell! And... thanks too, for all the ingenious telephone technology thereafter.  

Saturday, July 27, 2019

INTERVENTION??


I am totally beginning to think that I must need some sort of intervention, given my most recent addiction. Or, at the very least, maybe a recovery program. HELLO. MY NAME IS LINDA AND I AM AN ADDICT. HI LINDA. WELCOME.

To what am I addicted, you may ask? Easy. To a movie. My latest alltime favorite movie ever. About the life of my alltime favorite rock star.

Freddie Mercury.

OMG. Bohemian Rhapsody is a film for which I had been waiting an entire year before it’s release. I just could not believe this movie was actually being made, paying tribute the THE most fantastic rock performer ever. In my mind, Freddie’s talent is unparalleled. Plain and simple. And trust me… I’ve heard and seen plenty of rock stars in my day.

Naturally I saw the film on opening day and then… this is where the addiction begins… three more times afterward! In the theater that is. Then, several months later… moving on in to the Academy Awards time frame…  I could rent the film on Directv, which you can be sure I did.

Oh, the glory of it all. The music! The acting! The story! The entire experience thrilled me beyond belief. This is about the time I was beginning to worry myself. I never understood the Star Trek groupies, for instance. I mean seriously. Just how many times can a person SEE Star Trek let alone relish in it?? Have these people no life whatsoever?? Well guess what…

While the question still mystifies me, I am beginning to understand, but in a minuscule way. For after all… Trekkies are kinda nuts and obviously, I’m not. Yet, my addiction still stands and I own it proudly. 

It was the first weekend in July that I had to admit to a Higher Power I had a problem. For during that weekend and the following days in July too, Bohemian Rhapsody was on HBO. In fact, it was showing throughout the entire month, but the weekend showtimes worked best for me. All day long on Saturdays, for example, the movie was playing on all different HBO channels. So basically… it’s kinda not my fault. How can you NOT watch it, over and over and over? So… watch I did, as I was puttering all through the house, doing my different chores. Sometimes I literally sat in my recliner just to watch. I simply couldn’t turn on another channel and instead… listened to the fabulous music, happy as a little lark, time and time again. Ergo: my addiction problem.

Now I do have to say that I ALmost think maybe I’ve gotten my fill by now. Although last night I got in bed and just happened to check to see if it was playing. I hit pay dirt! Yippee. Sure enough, one of the channels was playing the film yet again, so although I came in during the middle of the movie, I still stayed up til past midnight to watch ONCE AGAIN. I swear… I think I’m this far from having to call a sponsor to help see me through all this. 

I have also watched several DVDs about Freddie so I know alot about his life, way beyond BR. I’ve also read some biographies. Needless to say I’ve watched plenty of videos on YouTube to see Queen perform live. My favorite is the one which shows Freddie and Montserrat CaballĂ©, singing the operatic BARCELONA. It was tottttally the highlight of his life to be able to sing with his alltime favorite soprano. This STILL gives me chills everytime I watch it: Yay Freddie!. Anyway…

I also naturally adore Queen’s Live Aid performance which btw… I watched live in 1985. My other fav is The Great Pretender: Yay 1950s!. All these videos merely play into my addiction to watching Freddie perform but… as I said…

I think I may finally be getting myself under control, here. Thank God. As for any NEW rock groups in this day and age… I have no clue who they may be nor what they may sing. I couldn’t even name one if you paid me. But… I could almost promise you… they can’t possibly hold a candle to my revered Freddie.

Sunday, July 14, 2019

PRIME

It could be argued that I’m sorta still in the prime of my life. I particularly love prime steaks and I love lots of prime time TV shows, too. But MOST OF ALL… I love Amazon Prime!

It is by far one of THE best inventions ever. Seriously. Ever.

To me… anyone who isn’t a prime member by now, totally has to maybe be… well, let’s see. How can I say this kindly? Uh… maybe be a loser of sorts?? I mean, really. It’s like they are still living in the past century or something… although I will admit the whole Prime deal was launched in 2005 so okay. Perhaps just a partial loser. And btw… for those of you doing a school report, Amazon itself came into being in 1994 so you’re welcome for the info. And btw… I myself have been an Amazon customer since 1998.

Frankly, I am not even sure I can live without Amazon. My first Kindle was purchased in 2007 and I paid major bucks for it, but it was soooo worth it. In fact, again for those doing school reports, the first Kindles were sold out in 5 and 1/2 hours and took another five months to restock it. Now THAT’S what I call a retail winner.

Nor can I live without Amazon Prime. I click a button and it arrives at my doorstep in 48 hours?? What the hell can possibly be BETER? Nothing! That’s what. I use Prime for everything from toilet tissue to vitamins. I love never having to go to a store for non perishables. Like dog food, lets say. Or personal hygiene products. Or my favorite lip stick. Or gift wrap items. Or linens. Or ANYthing. Not to mention, techie toys.

Additionally... I ADORE my Echo Dot. I have two of them, actually, and use it almost everyday. Goodbye alarm clock. Goodbye cooking timers. Goodbye radios. Goodbye home weather stations. Goodbye LOTS of things. The best part? Listening to Sirrius satellite TV stations! Plus… Alexa is a pretty kind lady. She’ll tell you to have a nice day if you say Good Morning to her. Or Sweet Dreams if you say Good Night. Okay… those last two make me laugh right out loud but still… she’s a really kind person. What?? Alexa isn’t real?? Talk about living in the Age of the Jetsons. Oh yeah… I love when she gives me phone numbers although using a phone book is something I stopped using years and years ago. Oh and get this…

Amazon's Prime Day sales begin tomorrow!  All KINDS  of Amazon Deals for Prime Members are being provided. As if 2 day shipping isn’t enough, right? Already I purchased  four items for my dog from their Early Day offers and guess what. Boom. The  items are sitting here in the house, before Prime Day even begins. Man. What a set up, is all I can say. 

And yes, I get it that Amazon has driven plenty of stores and companies out of  business. And yes, Jeff Bezos probably breaks every privacy law known to man but… would I give up my Amazon account or Prime Membership??? Absolutely not. I’m not only hooked. I’m grateful, too.

For a lazy ass lady like myself, this concept of online shopping is sooo up my alley. I’m just totally sorry I won’t be around to see what OTHER fantastic technical ideas are coming down the pike. Unfortunately I’ll be on the other side of grass in what? About 10 more years? Which means: I’ll miss seeing some even GREATER inventions. Damnit.

Of course, I’ll also miss seeing Prince William become King which trust me… breaks my heart but PLENTY.


   

Saturday, July 13, 2019

OCD

I think I may have written something about this before but I then figured, if I can’t remember, then I suspect you can’t either. So with that in mind…

It wasn’t until I was about 60… 11 years ago now… that I began to develop crazy ass behaviors that I’d not had before. Case in point… when I turned 60, boom. All of a sudden I became spooked by other people’s germs. Seriously. I would NEVER take a grocery cart today without first wiping it down with those fantastic little sterile wipes they offer us at the cart stands. Actually, it could possibly be THE most perfect invention ever. Before I was 60, no problem. I’d touch every cart in the store if I wanted… all without sterilizing the handles. TODAY however?? No way.

At 60, I also began my first entry into the world of OCD. Like… after my housekeeper leaves my house when she is finished cleaning, if there is even one item not placed exactly as I had it on a table for instance, it takes me no time at all to put it back, facing it in it’s original position. Like my Mother’s photograph, let’s say. I need her frame to be facing at a very specific angle and if when cleaning, my housekeeper puts it in a DIFferent direction, then I have to correct it the moment I see it.

Oh man. This type of deal can go and on in my house for all kinds of things. My eye has to have THE  exact spatial relationship and direction in which I originally placed an item. And, if you think this is an easy behavior to maintain, trust me. It’s not. On the other hand…

I’m not really too too crazy with my OCD. I mean… there are people who are WAYYY into all kinds of bullshit compulsions but luckily I’m not one of those. I don’t go check locked doors over and over again before I leave the house or anything like that. Granted… I won’t put up with men who come to my home and leave the toilet seat up but actually, I suspect that that disorder is covered by my germ phobia, so I’m kinda good to go.  Regardless…

My latest OCD problem??? You will never believe this! It began about 2 months ago and frankly, it’s become a major pain in the ass! Yet now, it’s officially and permanently ingrained in my OCD list of crazy ass everyday funtioning. Want to know what it is?? Sitting down???

As of about 8 weeks ago… I now HAVE to set the volume of my TV on even numbers ONLY! Seriously! IT’S NUTS! Watching a progam set on a volume number of 35?? Absolutely not! It now has to be set at either 34 or 36. Can you even IMAGINE?? Where the fuck did this new behavior even COME from?? For my entire life, I was able to set the volume, happily I might add, at 29 with no problem. Two months ago however?? Jesus. It has to be set at 30. Or 28.

I HAVE by the way, TRIED to do odd numbers, but something in me just won’t allow it. I know. I’M READY FOR THE FUNNY FARM and I’m not particularly pleased about it, either. If someone else had told me they just HAD to do this crazy volume control deal, I’d tell them to check into an institution immediately, But since it’s me, I just tell myself: Hey… do what you have to do and deal with it. End of funny farm worries. Oh yeah. And btw... what's with this every channel having a different volume level altogether?? No wonder I'm going nuts.

Which reminds me. Is the whole country having to go without Directv's CBS at the moment?? It's blacked out all over?? I can't believe I'll have to forego CBS Sunday Morning yet anOTHER week! It's maybe the finest show on the airwaves and bingo. It's gone! 

For which maybe I should be happy. At least there is one show for which I don't have to worry about volume numbers. The only problem is: I'm not happy. BRING BACK CBS, please! My addiction to Sunday Morning needs feeding.  



Thursday, June 27, 2019

URGENT CARE

Not in a lonnnng time have I been as shocked as I was earlier today. It was just so crazy that even now… hours later… I simply can’t get over the conversation I had with my son. I was floored, to say the least.

I’m always thrilled to hear his voice, so naturally, when he calls me, I am tickled pink to hear from him. Especially since he recently moved to a new job opportunity in another city, for a nice pay hike and in a position he is loving.

My son became a Certified Physician Assistant several years ago and for the past few years, he had been working at an orthopedic surgical office; seeing patients, being on call, making rounds each morning and assisting in surgery for legs, hips, etc. He needed to also submit very detailed reports for each of his patients, and during football season, he then had the additional responsibility of being at the local highschool games each Friday night in case there were injuries on the field. Bottom line: a LOT of work and very few hours for down time. Plus… he was on a salary thus, he could never earn overtime for lots of what he did. Anyway….

A couple of months ago, he was eager to move on. His first choice was to work in the Emergency Room but there were no openings at the moment so instead he began looking into Urgent Care possibilities. Bingo. He found a position that offered considerably more money, far less paperwork and MUCH better hours. That’s the good news. The bad news is… it was 4 hours away from me. Regardless… 

My son has been there about a month now, and everytime I hear his voice, he sounds happier than I’ve heard him in a long time. Basically… he is thrilled. I am pretty sad. Then again… when your kid is feeling so damn good, who can complain, right? Okay. So….

When we were talking today, he was telling me all about work, how he’s currently the main medical guy in the place, how the patients are, etc. etc. I then happened to ask him a question and it was at that moment I became stunned beyond belief! Off the cuff, I just happened to have asked what sort of ailments do the patients have, anyway.

OMG. He answers me by saying that for instance: in past couple of weeks, he had to do 3 internal exams on women who had discomfort, infections, problems, whatever.

WHAT?? MY KID IS NOW A  F’KING GYNECOLOGIST??? SINCE WHEN DID THAT EVEN HAPPEN??? HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW HOW TO DO INTERNAL EXAMS?? I could hardly beLIEVE what I was hearing.

You should have HEARD me after that announcement! SERIOUSLY. I piled on question after question, alright! My first question was: WAIT. ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU INSERT A  SPECULUM INTO WOMEN FOR AN EXAM?? To which he answers OF COURSE. To which I immediatlely said: HOW DO EVEN KNOW HOW TO DO THIS?? To which he said: I learned in P.A. School. By now, my head is spinning. I asked a hundred other questions about this, and he willingly answered them all, one by one. Throat exams. Okay. Body rashes. Okay. Nail fungus. Okay. Sinus infections. Okay. Prescribe drugs. Okay. Even vertigo. Okay. BUT INTERNAL EXAMS??? What the hell??  

I just can’t get over it. Sometimes I laugh at this newfound information. Sometimes I calmly process this info. But mostly… I FLIP OUT. It’s soooo not what I was expecting his having to do at urgent care. Man. Talk about being naive. I mean really. I would NEVER in a million years have figured he'd have to be THIS invasive with women but then again, I guess if she is in major discomfort and she can't get in right away to see a GYN then boom. My kid needs to help her out. And btw... I didn't even want to get into what he may need to do to help MEN in a critical situation. Don't ask. Oh... plus, he was telling me about how he has to deal with STDs the patients may have! Lordy, lordy, lordy. I can't even. In the meantime though…

My son is just so happy with his new job. He was telling me that this new position is exactly why he went to P.A. school. To be a part of medicine. Versus what orthopedics is about: which is more about bones and physiology. Hence, he is just sooo glad he made this move. And, I must admit… while I miss him alot, I’m am pretty damn proud of him.

Oh yeah. Not only does he love his hours, and salary hike, but he also loves his just built, brand new 2 bedroom loft! Now, that’s a bonus alright.







  



Monday, June 24, 2019

LONG TIME, NO BLOG

Dedicated to Laura: who has waited ever so patiently for me get my ass in gear. Finally.

Geez… talk about time flying when having fun. I mean, seriously… it’s been over a year since I’ve last posted and why it’s taken so long, I have no clue. Other than I just didn’t feel like doing it. Or… maybe I was just too busy watching my bustline getting way too close to my waistline. A great gift from the aging process, btw. Or maybe as I age, I'm just getting way too boring, even for myself. In any case…

A year goes by and then I think: Okay. Here I am, having turned 71 just a month ago, so what the hell. I might as well add an entry. I mean really. Just how lazy can one woman be?? Which means… those like Laura, and a whole bunch of my faithful readers, can rest easy. HERE I AM. Hallef'ingluyah.

Which is kinda good news for you, given many folks have written saying: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, ANYWAY?? Actually… Laura called, but it’s nice to be missed, regardless.

Well… wait no more. Yippee, yippee. Am happy to report all is great despite my being another year older. The first thing that comes to mind to tell you about, is the fact my main doctor… my internist… decided to fire me as her patient after about 6 years together. WTF???

F. HER is all I can say.

Who the hell fires a patient, especially one as cooperative as me?? I mean it… I’ve been with that practice for over 18 years and then all of a sudden I get fired?? Jesus. This doctor can rot in hell for all I care.

I should have gotten the gist of things when my original doctor at this practice, and then 3 more doctors after her, eventually left the practice altogether. Jesus. I so hate this last lady, now.

Turns out, unbeknownst to me, last month I had a bad urinary infection. Plus, I could hardly breathe, to boot. I was even admitted to the hospital and naturally, after I was all spiffy again, I was told to then follow up with my primary doctor. My internist. Which I did, about a week later.

That’s when the Witch Doctor basically got really annoyed with me because I had asked that we do a follow up urine test to be sure the infection was indeed gone. Reasonable enough request, right?? Apparently not.

The doctor got all hot and bothered over my suggesting such a test to which I told her… uh, how ELSE will we know I’m completely okay? I didn’t even have symptoms in the first place, alerting me to said infection, so how the hell will we know it is in fact gone if we don’t retest? What an asshole.

It finally got to the point where the doctor literally started walking out of the examining room and I was forced to say: HEY. TIME OUT. I’M STILL SPEAKING TO YOU. To which the medical bitch says:

I’ve DO have OTHER patients to see, you know.

I was pretty shocked, to say the least and all I could think of to say was: OKAY. YOU WIN. And bingo. She walked out, leaving me to find my way out to the check out desk.

GO TO HELL YOU F’ING DOCTOR. I HATE YOUR GUTS AND HOPE YOU DROP DEAD AND GO TO HELL. Come  to find out btw… about 35 other people have also left this office in the past 18 months, let's say. What a surprise, right?

So anyway… the very next day after this bullshit encounter with the damn doctor, I get a call from her office manager. UH… I’M CALLING YOU TO SAY THAT DR. SO AND SO DECIDED YOU’RE NOT A GOOD FIT AND YOU SHOULD PROBABLY FIND ANOTHER DOCTOR. Huh??? After years and years?? Is she nuts?? Besides, WHAT other doctor?? The manager suggested I try someone else in the practice and I simply told her: THANKS, BUT NO THANKS. Code for: F you too, office manager. 

I was done. Of course I was also now without an internist and a way to have my scripts written.

Man… I never heard of such a thing!! Seriously… they can all go to hell as far as I am concerned. That’s the good news. The bad news is: you have any idea how hard it is to find a really good internist in this city?? Can’t possibly happen without pulling all sorts of strings. Which luckily, I was able to do. (I love knowing people in high places) So basically it all boils down to: on June 10th I consulted with a new physician, one whom everyone I’ve spoken to, absolutely adores. Granted, she’s about 25 mins. from me, but I can totally see she’s worth the trip.

Getting this new doctor was kinda tricky, btw. She doesn’t normally take on new patients and her desk is FILLED with new patient requests. Yet somehow, yippee. I was able to make the cut and set up an appointment and now, I can happily report the new internist is everything my last one wasn't. Well... unless she takes my Ativan prescription away from me, that is. I will choose to live without blood pressure pills if I have to, or even diabetic pills. But Ativan? Absolutely no way. 

I’m still sort of stunned that I’ve been kicked out of using the old doctor. I swear… I’d been nothing but an exemplary patient. My visits were short and sweet, I was always polite and patient, and once I got all my scripts, I was good to go for the next 3 months. Wow. I guess the lady has this crazy ass attitude about follow up urine tests or something. 

Oh yeah… I forgot to mention: the week before I was hospitalized, I was doing email with this idiot, and she kept telling me she had electronically sent a script to my pharmacist. She said this 3 times and 3 times I told her the pharmacy never got it. That was another argument altogether. Finally I said… I’m not questioning your not having sent the prescription, I’m merely telling you they never got it, despite your 3 attempts. Thus… CALL IT IN ALREADY, DAMNIT. Okay. That last sentence I didn't actually verbalize but doesn't matter. 

You can well imagine how long I dwelt on this latest little experience. And, how often I repeated the story, to make sure everyone I know, learns to hate this witch as much as I do. So far I have to happily admit… I’ve a done pretty damn good job in smearing her name all over the place. Yay me! Now…

On a much happier note let me just say that YIPPEE, I had a wonderful 71st birthday celebration! Friends and I gathered for a delicious brunch, which is totally one of my favorite meals. Especially since it was an upscale buffet which, despite all the germs people probably cough and sneeze all over the fancy food displays, is still my favorite way to down a meal. I totally love looking at a whole bunch of hot and cold entrees and then choosing some of all that I love to eat. I feel like King Henry VIII, feasting on hordes of specialties.

Oh… and by the way… I am pretty much officially now looking like a total old lady. Ugh. I mean it. That youthful glow I had for years and years is SO gone. Don’t believe me?? Here’s the proof:  



Make up and pretty clothing are just not doing their job like they used to, damnit. On the other hand, thanks to Publix FINALLY opening up here in town, I was able to serve a fantastic birthday sheet cake! First time in 16 years! 





Sunday, July 29, 2018

INDEED... IT HAPPENED


Dedicated to: Gail, who through a stroke of luck, happened  upon my blog and had such kind words to send my way. So happy you accidently discovered Living As Linda. And… had a chuckle or two while visiting.

So low and behold the big day has indeed now come and gone. The day I turned 70 years old.

Turns out it was a wonderful day, as was the big celebration a few days before. Am so telling you… a sure way to overcome the shock of becoming way old is to totally have a bunch of your favorite folks at a happy bash and bingo. Next thing you know, the disturbing realization of being much closer to The End is suddenly soothed by celebrating with family and friends.

For believe you me… turning 70 is a milestone, for sure. Besides, who even knows whether or not I’ll even be around for 75 so what the hell. Celebrate now. Serioulsy… know just how many people never even SEE 70?? I have too many friends who didn’t and don’t even get me started on celebrities, etc. who not only kicked the bucket before hand but more importantly… suffered from ill health. Uh… apparently my addiction to Diet Coke and a high carb diet has paid off pretty well up to this point. From here on in, who the hell cares whether or not I hold out to 75. Life has been pretty damn good to me and I’ve enjoyed the ride, plenty. Thus shed no tears if I happen to meet my Maker before 75. I’ve lived what I affectionately call a “lifetime” already, thank goodness. So what could be bad?


Besides… becoming 80??? OMG. I don’t even want to think of my physical condition by then. For I see no glory whatsoever in not knowing what the hell day it is or not being able to drive or God forbid… being in pain. Nor is there any glory in living beyond the monies one may have to support a somewhat comfy life style. No bucks, no life, is the way I see it. Anyway…


Sure enough, I had a great party. There were about 44 of us gathered for a great evening of excellent food, excellent rock and roll, bebopping on the dance floor and naturally… enjoying some outstanding birthday cake. The weather was delightful after days and days of rain and plans for having coffee and cake out on the veranda, amongst the stunning NC mountains, worked out perfectly fine. Yippee. My guests and I had fun, for sure.

Oh yeah… in case you don’t know exactly what 70 looks like in 2018… boom. There you have it in the picture up above. Thanks btw, to the photographer, Nick, whom I hired to make sure the momentous occasion was captured for posterity. Yes… I know. Jane Fonda looked about 40 at her 70th birthday party, but basically SHE is a freak of nature. Not to mention: stunning. I on the other hand am neither but who gives a shit. Which reminds me... you've checked out Christie Brinkley lately?? SO not fair. Oh well.

All in all I have about 175 pictures and I must admit, everyone in them look like they had a terrific time. The tables and centerpieces all looked pretty festive and thus I was able to capture just the vibe for which I was hoping. It was simple: fun and feast.  Bingo. Mission accomplished.

And just to assure we got off to the right start, btw, I had guests being served champagne as they entered the party. My take is: no sense being bummed when you can so easily be buzzed. Kinda like: why take chances your shindig is a flop.

I must admit… I would have loved to have had my brother and parents at my party. They would never have believed that I was so happy to celebrate this occasion. Nor that I am so happy here in my beloved little town, let alone how glad I am to have my sister and sister in law living here, as well.

So basically, the bottom line is: YAY BIRTHDAYS! For all of you who can celebrate in a big way or small… celebrate indeed! Life is to be enjoyed and while they say it’s the little things in life that count, believe you me, bigger, happy bashes totally don’t hurt in the least.

Now of course, I’m off to begin my pre-prep for a colonoscopy I am having this week. The actual prep begins tomorrow. Don’t ask. Yet another sign of being 70. Not a great sign mind you, but a sign nonetheless. Speaking of which: Dear God. Please don’t let me shrink one iota this coming year. I could almost handle the colonoscopy better than I might a short stature.








Sunday, May 13, 2018

PURGING


No. I’m not bulimic. Though at times I totally think it’s an optimal way to keep my weight in check. Instead, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m in the throes of purging a zillion household items.

It all began about two months ago, knowing my 70th birthday was just around the corner. For some reason, THIS birthday, more than any other, has affected me far more than I’d have ever imagined. I mean seriously… it hit me that when you hit 70, you have totally entered into old age. When you hit 80, you’re CERtainly looking towards the other side of the grass. Anyway…

The major reaction to my birthday this year is to completely rid myself of 50% of everything in my house. I have SO many things I no longer need nor use. From my beautiful fancy china, to jewelry, to lingerie, to crystal wine glasses, to vases, to books, to DVDs, to linens, to almost any and every thing. I’ve got so much stunning crap, you’d never believe it. But stunning or not... the time has come to purge with a vengeance.

I started with my closet. And… I'm not even close to emptying it. There are 3 pretty decent sized closets in my house, my personal walk in closet definitely being the largest. Which actually is why I fell in love with house in the first place. I’ve also got 2 smaller closets and another 2 even smaller. In the meantime, I’ve already carted off 6 huge bags of stuff I’m  finally ready to part with and as we speak… I have 4 more bags sitting on my bedroom floor ready to head on out next week. I’m way far off from completing this task, too, considering the 10 bags I’ve filled is only from ONE side of my closet. Eeks.

Plus… I haven’t even tackled my drawers, the linen closet nor the other two closets of clothes, either. I’m telling you… this is a project that could take me well into my 71st birthday! But that’s okay because I truly have to say… it’s a fanTAStic feeling to be cleansing myself of all this beautiful, adored shit. You’d almost think I’d be so sad to rid myself of so many things I’ve enjoyed for so many years but actually… its like lifting so much weight off my shoulders. Talk about conspicous consumption!

Oh yeah… and I’ve got to eventually get to the garage, too. THAT will be like 4 projects rolled into one. It’s just that the time has come for all my crap to find a new home. To I hope, a really nice home. Actually, my kid should be really happy I’m doing all this because 1.) he probably doesn’t want any of these treasures, valuable or not and 2.) whatever I don’t get rid of now… he’ll have to do when I kick the bucket! Oh… get this… I even seriously considered getting rid of my house and downsizing! Then of course, I came to my senses. Although I did check out several condos, but I’m so not ready for that YET.

It’s just too bad I’m so lazy for were I to have a garage sale, I could rake in plenty! But even that is too overwhelming for me to even think about. Just tagging the items could take me weeks. Remember: I’m old now.

I’m basically way into the less is more mode right now and as I said… I’m pretty happy about it. My goal is to make my house look much like it did a week after I moved into it. Something here. Something there. Minimal accessories. Whoever said purging isn't healthy needs to think again. For me... it's cleansing as hell.