Saying yes...

FYI... (non-blogging w/bonus photo)

No, I've got no time, but here's a photo... of my office window... looking out at the new bird feeder that is attracting all sorts of leetle birds... which are then attracting my neighbor's cat. Pffft. As bimler said on FB... it looks like I've got a cat feeder.

The animal feeder (rabbits are loving the stuff that falls on the ground) is filled with a "gourmet blend" for teeny-tiny birds... On Wednesday, I had my first real life encounter with an Indigo Bunting. I took a photo... through the screen... with my cell phone. It looked like crap and will not be posted. If you have not seen an Indigo Bunting... I hope at some point you do. It's like seeing a Blue Raspberry Slurpy flying around! It's like nothing should be that blue in nature and be REAL! But it was. It was glorious.

OK... back to no time...

 

Busy week... nonexistent blogging...

Parts is Parts...

Stop reading if female parts scare you...

Laura's and fish's posts, as well as political discourse, has brought back memories... memories of being a young, single woman in the city... with a very dismal and unreliable paycheck. I believe I was working freelance jobs along with two part-time jobs... but still, paying for medical care was an issue, so I went to one of the Planned Parenthood-inspired places. It was not officially PP, but was basically the same deal. You paid for what you could, and most prices were reasonable.

Even though we were well into the latter half of the 80's, this place was right out of the 70's. Lots of ferns, lots of paneling, lots of Free to Be... You and Me stuff on the walls. I was fine with FTB...YAM, but did not necessarily want it every time I went for a check-up. It got even worse once I had to go a little more often. You see, you could not get your beloved birth control pills if your blood pressure was too high. I am notorious for having low blood pressure, but when in this place, with all of the questions, all of the doubtful looks, mine would shoot sky-high.

"We'll give you a month's worth of birth control pills, but you  must come back and prove you're BP is ok!"

Before these visits I would chant... think of dolphins, think of dolphins, think of dolphins...

But when they'd come in to check me out and would ask something that merited a smart-ass answer, with me giving it, and them taking me seriously, my BP would shoot sky high. I knew the drill... take the woman, who may or may not be abused, to a dark room... and let her think of dolphins for 10 minutes. Test again.

Most of the time I could chill, and the Rx was mine.

There was one time though that 3 women came into the room and suggested it was time to get to know my body.

Huh?? I was in my 20's! I knew my body?? What do you mean?? Know my body??

They produced a plastic speculum and a mirror... I kid you not. I scanned the ferns for hidden cameras...

They told me no women truly owns herself until she can examine herself... see the beauty of her cervix. I told them I was fine with a hidden cervix. My cervix was doing what it needed to do and I also trusted the professionals who checked it out...

They took this 'no' as an issue. I was like, "No, you don't get it... I was raised by a very down to earth mother who was nurse and called a spade a spade. Sure, my father might have been a little squeamish about the workings of daughterly parts, but Mom was fully on board with open discussion. I don't have issues... in fact, I'd like to use my parts with the man I love, the man who doesn't beat me, the man who accepts me as I am... while I myself am accepting me as I am... OK?? Take the Pap test and let me be on my way!"

But they insisted... which I felt was incredibly wrong, but hey... I was at peace with my parts, and as I mentioned, wanted to freely use my parts, so I did it. Woo-hoo! Look at my cervix! Woo-hoo! Yay! It looks like... a cervix... Can I go now???

They tried to give me a speculum to take home, but I think I shocked them when I said I preferred the flesh variety. Fortunately, soon after, I got insurance and was able to go to a Dr, who never once suggested I get in touch with my cervix... a Dr who seemed to understand that I was hip to my stuff... but relied on a professional to look up under my chassis.

(Heh... when I go to add a link to type up above, TypePad says, "Insert Link"... See?? These are the kind of thoughts that got me into trouble at the Women's place!)

When feelings and music mix... but shouldn't...

After BG's comment, I was thinking of posting a few more YouTubes of songs that reminded me of males from the past... whether males that I actually interacted with, or merely worshipped from afar... Yes, Vincent Van Patten and Willie Ames (Swiss Family Robinson Willie Aames, not Eight is Enough, thank you!)... you know I loved you both!  And then I realized, some were just horrendously embarassing! We can't always control what our brain anchors onto when Cupid zaps our heart! I'm talking about you, Barry Manilow!!! As Grizzled said when we were combining album collections...

G: Who in the hell has THREE Barry Manilow albums??

Me: HEY!!! I was once an 12 yr-old girl who grew up with Top 40 AM! He struck a chord... I couldn't help it!

G: OK, but that doesn't mean you have to keep them!

Me: But that would be like scrubbing my past, and I'm not going to do that. I will probably never listen to them again, but they do mark a point in time...

Yes, when going over my list, I was more embarrassed than not... but not too embarassed to share some... Go ahead, toss your judgmental daggers! I can take it. These were, and still are, associated with LUV!

 

 

 

 

I heard this song today...

...and was whisked back to the 3rd grade... my love for Robin S, as sure a thing as any 3rd grader can experience. I was thrilled when we were asked to stay a few minutes after school to clean the blackboards. I remember as he stepped up onto the piano bench to reach the top of the boards, I noticed he was wearing the absolutely most heinous pair of Toughskins... and like that, it was over.

The internet makes the world even smaller... and explaining... even more awkward

It's another busy week and I'm not in the mood for blogging (it seems so 1992), but this draft was burning a hole in my post cache:

The other night, in my evening painting class, I had a moment of my real life meeting up with my internet life, which in many areas, has also become my real life...

A semi-retired gentleman who is taking my class mentioned that he had attended a boring lecture the other day. I happened to know that a certain blogger was in the area giving a talk, although I doubted it was boring... still, I had to ask.

Me: "So, was it about blah, blah, blah??"

Him: "No... it was about feral cat colonies, but I did have a colleague who attended the talk you mentioned. How did you know about it??"

Me: "A friend of mine was giving one of the talks."

Him: "Really?? Does he know so and so??"

Me: "I'm not sure, I'll text him."

Me: "Yes, he does. He had dinner with him."

Him: "Wow! Now how do you know this person again?"

Me: "He's a friend."

Him: "I know... you said that, but how do you know him? Where did you meet?"

This is the point I dread in almost any conversation I have where I KNOW someone in REAL LIFE, but then have to explain that I met them online... and somehow, it takes a turn for creepy.

I told the gentleman in my class that this person and I belonged to the same creative blogging group... a group that was set up so people could share writing, art, thoughts, etc, in an area outside of work. I didn't tell him that meeting most of these people was totally random. I made it sound like there was some rhyme or reason to it...

It seemed to appease him. Or he sensed that maybe it was better not to ask anymore. Sensing he sensed this, I told him that my ENTIRE family(including dogs) had socialized with this person and some of his kids. That seemed to make it better.

I then thought of times when I've had to explain something else that's been going on in my life... a project I've been working on with someone... someone I never thought I'd have any interaction with, but am so thankful I do. The few times it has come up in conversation, and this person's name comes up, I get the inevitable question... "How did you meet this person?? What brought you together??"

I then get to decide of I tell the truth, that I met this person as a cupcake, or do I tell them, we met through friends... :) Personally, I like the first answer.

Here's to moving forward... whether on land or sea...

Bad judgment

During our recent road trip, I heard a song that will forever make me think of fun and alcohol poisoning... I know, I know, I should not say those two things together, but thank gawd for whatever it is that gets us through our stupid decisions in life...

Imagine if you will... an endless heatwave... going grocery shopping with your roommate/bestest friend... deciding at 9AM that margaritas sound REALLY GOOD... so you buy LARGE QUANTITIES of STUFF at the store, deciding not to eat when you get home, but go straight to the margaritas...

Hours and hours later, after a person or two has left the party, and the margaritas became anything you and your roommate could mix with tequila, if mixing was really even necessary... and after the dancing around and on the table while wearing your roommate's red sheet; dancing to the song below, you decide you probably need a nap, but the man you've been seeing (and will eventually marry) has shown up, decides maybe you need dinner and prepares you food... and stays with you throughout the night, which is a good thing, because you wake up in the wee hours feeling sun burnt and insane... and he gets you water and helps you to the bathroom, and does all sorts of responsible things... while your crazy roommate somehow finds it within himself to actually go out on a first date!!!

That is what this song makes me think of... and when I hear it, I still smile... and thank my lucky stars...

 

“Be grateful for luck. Pay the thunder no mind - listen to the birds. And don't hate nobody.”

We had plenty of luck this past week... but none when it came to seeing thunder. I heard thunder (he sounded nicer than his political posts would have you believe)... but I did not see thunder. I guess that's right. You see lightning... but you will not see thunder... even if you're only 10 freaking miles away...  because your 21st Century technology will fail you. Thunder will be lurking... waiting for you, but you will go hurtling past.

I was also in the vicinity of BG... had I been doing this trip again, I would plan differently, remembering all of the people who might be in my path. Oh well.

A random sampling of quotes from the past week???

(this one to be said in very dry, ironic tones) "Wow... two first in 24 hours... an Applebee's and a thud toilet." -- EL

"Who wants to pull over for a ham/pickle roll-up and a Coke??" -- Grizzled

"Fuck Cabin John Parkway!!!" -- Grizzled and Jennifer... many times...

Blogging may or may not resume.

 

Bittersweet

My father is 84 today. Yes, he's still with us... although I think I've been holding my breath for a few years now, always expecting that call... sometimes hoping for that call as opposed to thinking of what might be coming.

He doesn't live at home anymore. He went into assisted living this past summer... something I fully understand, but still hate and don't understand. I keep resisting the urge to bust him out... while also fighting the urge to lose my lunch.

How can this be?? How could so much have happened so fast over the past few years?? How does a man go from exercising every day and having a stellar mind, to not being able to walk, and not being sure what day it is?? How does a man go from building a home and living in it, to no longer being able to live there, even though it's still his?? He has a home! He just can't live there... at least not without a team of people. It's very easy to move a baby, it's not so easy to move a 6'1" man.

He's still there though... or part of him is still there. Sweetness, as I have mentioned before, has taken a stronger hold in him than he has probably allowed since childhood. That is one of the few blessings, no, probably the only blessing of the stripping away of who he is. 

He still has a fondness for ribald jokes. Go figure. You can ask him what time of year it is the day after he attends a 4th of July celebration, and he'll say October, but apologize to him for possibly giving him a wedgie when trying to move him from his wheelchair to his recliner, and he'll laugh right on cue and say it's probably the most he's felt down there in a long time...

He still retains (or I think he does) a fondness for flatulence humor, so today, when out shopping, and happening upon the scratch 'n sniff farting unicorn card, I snatched it up. I guess I'll find out Sunday, when we go to visit, whether this part of him still exists, or if it has joined the long line of characteristics he has left behind.

Below is my father, in younger years... Ha! I say younger, but he would have been roughly my age now when this was taken... 1976. He loved to cook out and built an awesome barbeque pit, which allowed him and one of his best friends to throw annual hog roasts. 1976 was one of the years they didn't... instead it was the Bicentennial Beef Bash... beef was chosen so a variety of other friends who did not partake of pork could attend.

You gotta love those shirts... again, it was the 70's... His glasses, however, were pure him. He's worn round spectacles since and before I've known him. I counted once, he had around 120 pairs... all different, but all round. Some crazier than others. He referred to them as his Magoo glasses.

And then there's that smile... a smile he often tried to restrain because it was crooked. Egads. What was he thinking. Smile Dad... smile!

The lyrics of this song don't really pertain, but it's been playing in my head since I put this up.