Goober says "Hey"

It's happened. Nashville has lost it's collective mind. The council has voted to allow patrons to go into a restaurant and carry a GUN with them. What the hell? Mayor Bredeson has vetoed it once, but the law was overturned by the council.

Okay, I'll bite...why would anyone in their right mind want someone to come into a restaurant with a gun? Please don't patronize me by saying it's an American's right under the constitution to bear arms. Do you really feel threatened in a McDonalds? I mean really...why would you carry a gun into a restaurant? Hello? I am bamboozled about this. Me thinks there is money changing hands...

I remember watching an old Jim Carrey standup special as he was talking about people carrying guns in their cars or trucks. He likened it to the old cowboy days...Picture being on a major freeway and someone is trying to pass you: Carrey with his best elastic facial antics pulls out an imaginary gun and taunts in true Clint Eastwood fashion: "Don't cut me off, boy...you feel lucky, punk? Well do ya? Go ahead,...make my day!" He finishes the sketch by quipping "If ya don't shoot'em, they won't learn nothin'."

So, the city that often gets compared to Mayberry will be packin next time one of their citizens decides to go to the Applebees or Shoneys. People won't "learn nothin' until somebody gets killed."

Goober says "Hey!"

More Musings Later (if I don't get shot at the Burger King)

Have I Mentioned that Healthcare Sucks?

You know it stinks when you get older (as I seem to be doing against my own will), you just go to the doctor more. Now, if you have a fantastic doctor, that's not a biggie. Let me explain why I hate going to the doctor:

First and foremost, my doctor's waiting room is huge and makes me feel like I am in the middle of a very overpopulated country. (Most seats are taken)

There are a "team" of receptionists to check in patients, collect co-pays and direct traffic.

The doctors are ALWAYS late. So, hopefully you haven't scheduled anything after your appointment or you will be late (or miss it altogether).

Once your name is called, you feel like a steer that is being corralled into a pen by a very cranky nurse with a clipboard.

Terrorists could attack at this moment or Armeggedon could be in process, it doesn't matter. You have to get weighed. (which they loudly announce the results to themselves as they scribble on their clipboard).

A nurse will usher you into an examination room and throw a gown with a million ties, snaps and other shit that you can't figure out and just wrap it around you the best you can.

The nurse sits at the computer and types in your complaints, asks what meds you are on and tells you that the doctor will be in to see you in a second.

You wait

You wait

You wait

Finally, doctor comes in, asks you the same things the nurse did and keys them into the computer. They poke, prod, respond to "uh-huh" to your comments and conversation and begin scribbling prescriptions. They say they will be right back....and

You wait

You wait

You wait

You get dressed and ask the nurse running from room to room, "The doctor said she was coming back...where is she?"

"She is seeing another patient. What do you want?" she asks impatiently.

"Uh, to ask some questions..." the nurse looks extremely aggitated and responds, "You will have to wait 4 hours to speak with her personally, that is her last appointment for the day."

I look at her and think to myself, Yeah, right...I'm going to wait 4 more hours to ask a question that she should have addressed during my appointment. NOT

I decide to forego the marathon doctor's appointment and offer my usual catch phrase after a doctor's appointment, screw it.

I make my way to the entrance of the hospital and look for the valet (i told you it was like being in an overpopulated country) to give my receipt to get my car. They left for the day and I have to walk to the other side of the hospital (world) to get my keys and fetch my car myself.

I get home and think...next time I'll wait until I feel good before I go to the doctor.

More Musings Later-

Jessica Osmond

Don't know if you heard, read etc, about Jessica Osmond, but Marie's eldest daughter is gay.

All I can say is God love her. Most of us in this world are not famous. When we have family issues, personal issues, lovelife issues etc., we don't have The Enquirer or some other gossip rag camping out in our front yard just waiting for the moment to snap your picture to capture your vulnerability, pain and oh yeah, the big bucks they will make off the photo.

As I read through a couple of articles online, I saw the headline, "Jessica Osmond looks like a truck driving, paunchy Betty Suarez! (Ugly Betty). Yowza....that has got to sting. I can't imagine when I was going through my metamorphisis to have all of my angst and pain splattered all over the press for people to devour.

Even now, so many years after the fact, I am still consumed with guilt and other personal feelings that remain prisoner in my psyche. I deal with it and do the best I can; all without a blinding spotlight following my every thought and or move.


Jessica has a famous mother. Her family are the most famous Mormons on the planet. Her family is extremely religious. Her family is extremely famous...have I mentioned that?



God bless.

I've Held My Tongue as Long as I Can!

Not to be literal, but you get the idea. Now, I never watch pagents or beauty queen shows but of course, Miss California's comments regarding Gay Marriage made their way via CNN and ABC news.

I watched as Perez Hilton asked if she was "for" or "against" gay marriage. Her response? She believes marriage is between a man and a woman. Sorry if I offended anyone here, you guys!

Offended? OFFENDED? I was speechless (which is rare). The fact that she is stating that roughly half the people in this world shouldn't have the same rights as others floored me. And, she wants to know if she has offended me. That's not even the tip of the iceberg, baby.

I feel that gay couples everywhere have been done an injustice and I can't believe in this day and age that we are STILL fighting for human rights. You will see all kinds of people going abroad to help other countries with human rights. Guess what? WE NEED HELP HERE IN AMERICA.

We have come so far since I've been alive. And, when I become an old woman, I will remember watching Barack Obama winning the presidential election and seeing the world witnessing it along with me via the internet and television feeds. I will remember that innocent people were sprayed with hoses and had the police dogs attack them for no other reason except their skin was a different color.

There are good, decent people that happen to be gay. Why should some people have the right to marry and not others? So many have made a downright mockery of marriage and yet, people applaud the on-going marriages as "the right thing to do in life." What about us?

"No government has the right to tell its citizens when or whom to love. The only queer people are those who don't love anybody. "

~Rita Mae Brown, speech, 28 August 1982

How Come?

I have wondered about certain "rules" if you will, that we all "should" abide by. But, I've never understood why. So, I thought I would share my list of "How Come's?"

HOW COME-

• A handtowel in a bathroom is for looks only and shouldn't be used after washing your hands?


• You shouldn't wear white shoes after Labor Day?



• You shouldn't put a small fridge in the living room if you want to?



• Women still have to wear bras?



• We shouldn't wear pj's during the day?



• Women eyeball what and how much other women are eating when they are out in public?


• Women won't wear bathing suits cause they're "too fat", does that stop you from wearing clothes too?


• Alot of lesbians are masculine looking?



• Some people are against gay marriage?
  
  
  
• People jump to conclusions?



• Tele-evangelists are rich?



• Most people don't want to think for themselves?





• Toilet paper rolls should be put on the holder thingy?






• When you go house hunting and see a home with lots of windows, you cringe at the thought of the time it will take to clean them?


• Women wear low cut blouses and get mad when men stare at their chest?



• If women wear low cut blouses, men don't wear low cut pants?



• Women wear high heels when they are so uncomfortable?



• God perfected life when he made animals? Do we deserve them?




• The true concept of God is too enormous for humans to wrap their minds around


• All the dishes in a dishwasher should be washed before they go through a cycle? Isn't that the point of having a dishwasher?


• The Conservatives believe in the death penalty but are against abortion?

Just asking, that's all.

More Musings Later-

What is the appeal with this show???

I don't get it. Although I am guilty of watching this show from time to time, I often wonder what is the huge appeal of American Idol?

I've ragged on this program before, but I watched last night and really tried to watch it without judging it, (that means I didn't focus on Paula Abdul). Bear with me as I analyze this:

The melodramatic antics of Ryan Seacrest makes me want to pimp-slap him. Ooohhhhh the spooky lighting and Ryan all alone on stage announcing THIS is YOUR American Idol! I immediately give an eyeroll of exasperation and tell myself to endure his crap so I can see the contestants sing.



Okay, no doubt that the contestants are talented. They each can really sing and this year, they are particularly good. (Lord knows they have had some crappy seasons in the past) Anyway, part of the show's requirements is that these contestants must do a commercial for a product (complete with "Fame-esque" singing and dancing). Now the vocals are not arranged, that is, they are all singing the melody so that it sounds (and looks) like a bad high school choir production. Surely they can afford for someone to write a vocal chart now, can't they?

Then there are the solo performances. Some are really good. I mean really good. But, after the performance comes the part I can't stand. The critique of the judges.

Randy "What up Dawg" Jackson: The hip-hop slang is getting old, although he does know his stuff. I usually pay more attention to Randy's advice or critique than all of them.

The new girl: I can't remember her name, but yes; she knows her stuff as well as she is a very successful songwriter and singer herself. In fact, she wrote one of my all time favorite songs (Vision of Love) for a then unknown singer extraordinaire, Mariah Carey. BUT: she reminds me of one of those irritating overbearing cheerleaders from high school. I believe if Simon would give her a xanax before each show, she would be okay.

Paula Abdul: I can't stand her. She is a joke. The very idea that SHE is offering suggestions to the talented singers on how to phrase or sing simply GALLS me.

Simon Cowell: He is one rich dude. At least he is brutally honest about his opinions. He's not a singer, musician or anything else...he simply knows what he likes and industry people value his opinion for whatever reason. So, there you go. He doesn't tell the contestants how to sing, or how to phrase...he either likes it or he doesn't. I can live with that.

Now, if we can get rid of the audience who boos incessantly if the judges don't gush over every singer. Get real, people.


More Musings Later-

Have YOU Twittered?

Yes, hooked on another techie item. Why? you ask?

It seems that the entire world is mesmerized with conversing with each other in 140 characters or less. And, what makes it even more interesting, is that there are ALOT of celebrities online "tweeting". Let's face it, it's an excellent marketing tool to plug a book, tv show, live show, etc. And, you get an immediate reading on your target audience. It's downright genius.

I caught a few minutes of Larry King Live where Ashton Kutcher was explaining what "Twitter" was to King. I was impressed with his explanation which was lavished with technological speak...I'm sure he's not a computer person as he is young and has been an actor/personality for some time now. But everyone is doing it!!!

I tell you, there is nothing better than being able to say good morning to Oprah, Gayle King, George Stephanopolous, Anderson Cooper, Suze Orman and they actually read your tweets and respond back!

If you'll notice, I put a button on the side of my blogs saying to follow me: Please do so! I would be curious to see how many people that read this blog tune into Twitter. Check out who I'm following...everyone from Suze Orman and Oprah to Eddie Izzard to Sir Anthony Hopkins.

Heck, I even twittered Lisa Williams (the medium) during her intermission at a show. AND, she responded! I'm weird that way....I love this crap!

More Musings Later-

The New York Housewives vs. Office Politics

I'm hooked. I watched a marathon of "The New York Housewives" on Bravo a couple of Sundays ago and thought to myself...WOW, this is the ultimate in office politics. Can I get an Amen?

We've all worked with these personalities before, haven't we? Sure, you know...the Countess, the elitest that holds her nose in the air and then there are the others that gossip and spread rumors (true or untrue is beside the point) about their "friends". Jeez, it's enough to turn your stomach, but, like watching a train wreck, people can't stop watching. Me included.

The New York Housewives Bitchfest

With all the bitchiness and cat fights going on, my mind drifted to when I worked in an office and experienced the same fights, the mwah, mwah kisses on either side of the face while your co worker is pulling the dagger from your back. I hated it. No, I despised it. The co-worker that behaved in this manner toward me hurt me so badly that when this person left the company, it caused me to be rude and mistrusting of the next 2 co-workers taking their place.

I'll be the first to tell you that I don't take hints very well. No amount of hinting, name dropping or other vague forms of communication will work with me. You have to shoot straight from the hip as they say. Well, this lack of "picking up on things" was a real Achillies heel for me. I thought I had a good friend, and she knew I didn't. So, after the damage was done, the rumors were spread and my working environment was hell for years after, I decided to put Facebook to good use.

I looked up this person and sent a message.

"Dear Co-Worker" (I used the person's real name)

I happen to come across your profile in Facebook and it caused me to pause. I have always wanted to know why you spread rumors, caused irrepairable damage to key working relationships etc. I had thought you were my friend, but I soon found out that wasn't the case.

I don't expect to hear from you, I just wanted to ask. Because I don't "hint", "hide", or "stab friends in the back" while pretending to like them. I am a fairly blunt person. So, I would like to know why. Straight from the horse's mouth, if you will.

Oh wait...let me rephrase my question to suit your communication style; I miss working with you so much! Let's do lunch next week, okay?

Translation: So, what's the answer?

BFF, > Translation: You suck.

Taryn

p.s. This person hasn't responded. Perhaps when the Ice Age comes to fruition.

More Musings Later-

And so another year comes to a close...

Chapter 46 is coming to a close
As I close the chapter on 46 and turn the fresh new page of Chapter 47, I am amazed yet again at all the experiences, emotions and situations that life has handed me over the last 365 days. .

I've been surprised, shocked, amused, saddened, angry and silent.


I've encountered experiences that I never expected and some that I did.

I've been pleasantly surprised and bitterly disappointed.


I've thanked God for my blessings, and I've taken for granted still so much more.


I've lost people that I've never met, and think about them tonight.


It was a wonderful, difficult, gut-wrenching, sorrowful, happy, joyous, funny, frustrating year.




and, like all things, one year comes, and another is born.


Chapter 47 promises to be just as wonderful, difficult, gut wrenching, sorrowful, happy, joyous, funny, and frustrating as Chapter 46, but in a totally different, new way.


I am busily writing my next novel, "The Long Road to Extredition" and find the words come easier when I am nocturnal. With the writing of so many books for others, it will be a joy to see my name once again on the cover. Where instead of striving for Grisham, I am now struggling along to strive for Hemingway.


Alan Solomon, my friend and older brother that I've never met, is traveling to New Zealand in June to devote time to our next co-writing venture entitled, "He Played the Game". He hopes to find that the words flow more freely in the beautiful countryside of his home rather than Beijing where he currently lives.


So, we go where we are best, observe what we can and learn the rest. It's a new year, a new beginning and a new moment.

And, my eyes are wide open to the wonder of it all.

More Musings Later-

One of the True Mysteries of the World...

Okay, maybe I'm being a tad sarcastic, but to me, it really is something to behold.

I will begin by stating my horrible, ugly secret: I'm a sweets fanatic. I LOVE chocolate, candy, cakes, muffins, and anything else that has a sweetness to it. I have always been this way, and I find that I am one of those people that is better off going cold turkey off of the sugar then trying to control my overwhelming cravings for it.

Having explained the above to you...it is beyond my comprehension how someone can eat 1, perhaps 2 bites of a candy bar or muffin and be content enough to set it aside without eating it until it's gone. Perhaps I'm revealing too much about my food weaknesses as I sit thinking about my struggles with my weight throughout my life.

It's like a bad acid trip as I recall those hideous 1970s food scales that were used by Weight Watchers so many years ago. As if we would overserve ourselves on the required canned salmon or tuna fish for the day. Everything was weighed, portioned and meticuously alotted. That's why it blows my mind to see someone do the same thing with a Hostess Cupcake.

I'm giving fair warning: April 8 - I go cold turkey again. It's hell to have a sugar laden monkey on your back.

More Musings Later-

Guiding Light Coming to an End after 72 Years

I don't know folks...when I heard the news today I thought it was a reporter's idea of a bad April Fools joke.

I have watched this soap opera ever since I was a kid. I STILL watch it and have even met a couple by overhearing conversations about GL characters at a local restaurant! Heck, we even stay in touch. I'm sure they are in mourning over the news.

I've seen them come, and I've seem them go...but as my Ode to Guiding Light, here are a few of my favorite and not so favorite plotlines and characters:

Reva Shayne: GL's aging "good ole gal" that has married every Lewis brother as well as the father on the show.

"Forever Bud and Reva" (GAG)

My Favorite Not so Favorite Line of Reva's : "Forever Bud" This is the guy that she is supposedly soul mates with, but she marries everyone else in town. I nearly tossed my cookies when I first heard her call her soul mate "Bud" when his real name is Josh. go figure.

Ross Marler, Rick Bauer, Ed Bauer

Alan Spaulding: GL's evil CEO executive that grooms all his children and slaps his last name on their birth certificate and then they are the protege of his business empire. It's almost like watching Children of the Corn trying to be corporate ladder climbers in the business world.

My Favorite Line of Alan's (while speaking to Reva): "You amuse me with your Daisy Duke, beer drinking, hillbilly ways".

Phillip/Beth: Phillip Spaulding, Alan's son who is really Justin Marler's son is soul mates with the virginal Beth. They go through all types of trials and tribulations, even Beth becoming blind and her doing a really bad Helen Keller-ish impersonation of a sightless person.

LuJack/Beth: Another Spaulding that doesn't find out until much later as he is Alexandra Spaulding's son and he somehow didn't grow up with his family and became a gang leader. He meets Beth, falls in love and begins a music career. He leaves his old girlfriend behind, Darcy and she continues the gang.

Favorite Not so favorite line of Phillip's to LuJack about Darcy: "What do you feed it to keep it so ugly?"

Sheesh...so many characters and only one blog. There were the Reardons: Jim, Tony, Annabelle, Nola and her husband Quentin. The psychic island adventures Jim and Annabelle had...then there was Claire and Fletcher who were coupled together in the same vein as Lucy and Ricky. Then there is Josh Lewis, Billy Lewis, H.B. Lewis, Hawk Shayne, Shayne Lewis, Vanessa, Matt, Buzz, Lizzie Spaulding, Henry Chamberlain, Roger Thorpe the ultimate villain, Ross Marler, and so so so many more.

The Ultimate Villain - Roger Thorpe

May your disfunctional, "family obsessed" community forever live on in our hearts of Springfield.

More Musings Later-

Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month

Recently, I've vented about some of the difficulties I've had health-wise. And, as soon as I typed them in my blog, I felt badly about it. Namely, because I don't like to complain. My circumstances are not that bad, especially when you consider others who have it so much worse.

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you will remember that my Mom has MS. She's always been a fighter and provided my sister and I with unspoken advice of never to complain. She taught us to think of others who struggle. One moment I remember so clearly as I was growing up, is when she taught me about being a human being of value. She told me, "Empathy is so much more useful than Sympathy." It seeped through my stubborn Aries subconscience and stayed with me all these years.

So, I try not to complain. Especially since my older sister, Tanya was diagnosed with colorectal cancer last year. She turned the big 5-0 this past November and her doctor added the good ole colonoscopy exam to her annual physical. It's a good thing they did because she was at stage 4. When I found out, I felt as if the wind was completely knocked out of my soul. She has always been the healthy one.

This past year, I have seen her go through uncharacteristic bad health. And, I have seen her handle her illness with such incredible faith, grace and humility as well as humor. I sit in amazement at times. She has been in such pain and never complained. No, she instead has chronicled her journey via her blog: Every Problem Has a Gift for You in its Hands. It is truly a fascinating journey as she digs deep in herself and explains what she goes through and her feelings about it.

Oh, and by the way: She is going through her last round of chemo and radiation and had surgery to remove the cancerous tumor (but not before she had a tumor naming contest on her blog beforehand) and to insert the colostomy bag. She is cancer free! So, do yourself a favor: Read her blog. Be good to yourself and get a colonoscopy if it's time to have one or if colon cancer runs in your family. The colon test is NOT painful....honest. Believe me, I wouldn't lie to you.

Hey, it's a fast way to lose 5 lbs, right?

More Musings Later-

The Magic of a Memoir

There isn't any doubt in my mind that everyone has thought about writing or having their memoirs written. If for no other reason, but to announce to the world, "Hey, I was here. And, it mattered to someone."

A memoir to me is sort of like a written document that recants your life and puts the period at the end of the sentence of life. One of the very first memoirs I wrote for a client was meant for something more than this. Much more than this.

I remember a young fellow named Jason Walker of Thomasville, GA emailed me about writing his memoirs. When we first began chatting online, I silently wondered why he wanted to write a memoir when he was only 20 something? As he began to tell his story, I found out that he is one of the oldest if not oldest living survivor of Duchennes Muscular Dystrophy. He is a quadreplegic and relies on machines and oxygen tanks to keep him alive.

As I coached him on what he needed to do, he studiously began gathering materials and began to recount stories from his past to me. I wrote at night so I could write for paying gigs during the day. Before we knew it, the book was done. I got to know his mom, his sister and brother-in-law and his niece, Ray his caregiver and his journalist friend in Florida all through his stories. I was also schooled on the perfection of Florida State football.

When I finally got the book published, I asked why he wanted the book written so badly. He stated that he wanted to give other people hope that were going through difficult times. If after reading this book, you're not inspired and humbled, then I don't know what will do it for you. He had mentioned that after he's gone, his dream is for the book to continue selling so that his Mom and Dad can receive the royalties to help out with the mounting medical bills he's accrued through the years.

Well, he befriended me and my partner, Mindy Schwartz. She began working with him on marketing the book and he was thrilled. So, our aim is to make sure that Jason's book continues to sell. 100% of the royalties will go to Jason's parents for financial assistance.

It is with a heavy heart that I announce that Jason Walker, co-author of "Missing My Body" passed away March 16, 2009 at 9:30pm.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I choose to remember Jason through his own words which will live on:

Make no mistake about it, my life is consumed with worry and contemplation, but it is also consumed with love and joy for this life.

Most people that suffer from a debilitating disease are “stuck” at the first phase of their limitations. If that were the case with me, then this would be the final chapter to this book. So, it is with a very conscience effort that this detail about my life occurs at the beginning of my book. There will be recounting of physical limitations and surgeries and so on throughout the book, but I feel it is imperative that you understand that these events are intertwined with loving, caring family and friends and my beloved animals.

There is a quote that likens my situation to that of a horse race: “Each handicap is like a hurdle in steeplechase, and when you ride up to it, if you throw your heart over, the horse will go along too.”[1]

That is how I choose to live my life, as fluid and graceful, as my body is stiff and confined.

Jason Walker

http://www.emailthis.clickability.com/et/emailThis?clickMap=viewThis&etMailToID=1855070906

[1] Laura Moncur’s Motivational Quotations – by Lawrence BixbyMore Musings Later-

Another Round of "Remember When?"

Today a friend of mine and I were talking and our conversation meandered to when we were kids. When I think about it, our childhood seems so far removed from today's youth...much in the same way that the middle-aged seemed far removed from my youth.

If you're a 20 or 30-something, you won't get what I'm about to detail for you. Being born in the early 60's was a unique time. We had a youthful president in office, much like today; we had serious political issues happening behind the scenes as well as in front of our eyes just as it is happening today. Yet, we were so innocent. I'm sure another writer will ponder similar thoughts 20 years from now and his or her musings will seem just as dated and melancholy as mine.

Remember When?

You "went outside to play" after school?

You would swing in a tire swing?

You walked to school ? (not uphill or in snow, but you get the idea)

You felt priviledged to ride a bicycle to school?

You gave their friends a ride home on their handlebars?

You were taught to "duck and cover"?

You were taught to say "Sir and Maam" at all costs?

You would receive a spanking?

You prayed and recited the Pledge of Allegiance each day in school?

You watched the astronauts land on the moon?

You laid on the ground and watched the clouds change shapes?

You had to get a TB shot?

You thought that by the year 2000, the world would be at an end, either that or would be like The Jetsons.

Cartoons were of superior quality and not hastily slapped together as they are today?

Bugs as Leopold Stokowski (cartoons were just smarter back then).

More Musings Later-

Observations

My first observation: Today, March 12th is Liza Minnelli's birthday.

My thoughts: Happy Birthday. Please retire.

My Observation: I went to the doctor to have him look at how my foot is healing. He did x-rays and remarked that I now have a hairline of where the break was on my foot. "There's nothing more to do for the foot. It has to heal on it's own. Just give it time. Come back in 6 weeks and I'll look at it again."

My thought: If all it needs is time to heal, then what do I need to see you for?

My observation: If you have a group of women sit at a table and serve them lunch. You will see multiple pairs of eyes casually taking sidelong glances of the other woman's plate. Each woman is thinking to themselves, "Am I eating too much? Am I eating slow/fast enough? Will the other woman think I'm a pig?"

My thoughts: Shut up and Eat.

My observation: You can tell alot about a doctor's office by the tv programs they show for people in the waiting room.

My thoughts: If a doctor's office has Jerry Springer blaring, run. Your doctor will most definitely run tests to see, "Who yo baby's daddy?"

My observation: American Idol is popular as ever. Complete with the choreographed routines with choir-like singing, Ryan Seacrest with his over dramatic "This (dramatic pause) is American Idol!" Simon with his peculiar effiminant gesturing and cattiness and Paula well, being Paula with her musical critiques, "You look beautiful," et al.

My thought: Why?

My observation: there is the time change. We fall back and spring ahead. We have more hours of sunlight when we spring ahead.

My thought: If we have more hours of sunlight, why does the day seem so short?

More Musings Later-

I would like Whine with My Cheese...

Hello all, forgive my last rant about the PDiddy, Pity Pot Blues. I normally don't go on and on like that about my health. But, I guess I needed to. So, I put it out there, and it served it's purpose. After I wrote the rant, I felt stupid complaining. I felt exactly like this baby in the pic. Why me? Why me? Waaahhhh! Well guess what? Why NOT me? Who am I to be exempt from life's little bumps in the road? So, onward and upward.


Shortly after I wrote the rant, I called Mom. If you remember, she has MS and diabetes and a host of other health issues. The conversation went something like this:


"Hello?"


"Hey!, how are you?"


"Fine, and you?"


"Fine. "


"You know you don't feel well! You lie like a rug."


"Whatever"


"What was it you said earlier?"


"Uh...hmmm I can't remember. I'll think of it. Remember when? uh...hell, I don't know."


"You said something about ... wait, it will come to me. Who am I kidding? no it won't."


"It will. What was it that you said? I'm trying to remember, hang on."


"Did you know that the police caught that guy that uh....what did he do? Something about Crystal Gayle...uh....or was it Walmart?"

"I love you, I'll think of it and call you later."

"Me too. did I say it or did you?"

"Bye Mom, I love you"

"Bye Taryn, I love you too."

She never fails to make me laugh. Thank you Mom.



More Musings Later-

I've got the P-Diddy Pity Pot Blues...

Okay, Doc Hollywood (my neuro) said that the honeymoon period of my Parkinson's would end at some point and I would start experiencing more symptoms. Blah blah blah is all I heard. I had a great attitude, I knew that I could get through it just fine, thank you very much.

Okay, I'm pissed off. Can I say that? Can I say that and still have a good attitude? Well, even if I can't, I'm pissed off! Why? Okay, I'll let you into the world of me. A middle-aged woman, with sarcastic humor with PD, scarred up legs from vasculitis and a broken left foot.

Imagine yourself sitting in your chair in the living room tippity typing on your laptop. You are working on a client's memoirs and enjoying the work. Then your beautiful aging beagle puts her head on your knee and looks at you with that "I need to go outside to do my business" look. Then, she starts whining...then yelping...and wait...let me type one more word...then she starts "yelling" by barking loudly. Okay okay! I tell her.

Baby, the aging beautiful beagle

I stand up and I can hear my bones crack. I immediately hunch over because....well, that's what I do. It's part of PD. I feel lightheaded and unsteady...I start clutching furniture on the way to the kitchen. The beagle is running in circles, tail is wagging with such force that it looks like a propeller. I'm coming! I tell her. Wait....grab on to the kitchen chair. Quick, turn it around and sit down I tell myself....wait, my knees are buckling....wait....WAIT! I sit on the edge of the chair and clutch the table trying to sit in the middle of the seat. I can't do it. I'm going down with the ship. CRAP! Ouch! CRAP! I hear a "snap" sound and my foot is engulfed in pain.

Meanwhile, the beagle comes over and looks at you and burps in your face. then she licks your nose and waits for you to get up and let her outside. Damn! I can't move for maybe 2-3 seconds...Finally, I can get up. Crap! my body hurts. You finally situate your body so that you can let the dog out and take a breather sitting on the floor holding her retractable lead.

Okay, that is one burr in my butt. Here's the next:

I'm tired. Have I said that already? I'm not just tired....I'M TIRED. Sometimes it takes all I have just to get my butt out of bed. Which brings me to the next point of contention. I take naps. Not just 1 nap a day...I've taken as many as 4 naps in one day. You're probably muttering to yourself, "No way," I'm here to tell you "Yes Way."

I'm also tired of talking and in mid-sentence my mind goes blank.

• Walking into a room and wondering what for?
• What did you say?
• When did that happen?
• Where was I?
• Huh?
• Why did you do that?
• What day is it?

Well???

More Musings Later, (If I can remember)