Thursday, April 29, 2010

I've Been Tagged . . . or Nagged!

I suspect my friend AmiMental tags me simply because she knows it will make me post. Sneaky, but effective, m'dear. Good job. So, here I am with the answers to your questions. I can't tag much of anyone else because I don't know six blogs to tag . . . sad, but true.

(1) I see a small kid riding a bike in the street. No helmet. Does that bother you?
It bothers me to see a small kid on a bike in the street UNLESS he/she has a helmet and better yet, a helmet AND a parent or adult. Which so often doesn't happen . . . and then I worry.

(2) Someone else read your newspaper before you did and mixed it all up and didn't fold it properly. How do you feel?
Not remotely surprised as most of the newspapers I go through are out of order. I only read one section typically anyway, so it doesn't matter much.

(3) You're almost done with the laundry. You're on the last load, which happens to be a load of dark clothes. One of your kids brings in a bunch of white socks. Toss them in with the jeans or put them in the hamper to wash later?
In the hamper and then apologize to my husband who is the person who does all of the laundry anyway.

(4) You're out shopping with a relative or a friend. You brought a bottle of water, he did not. When you open it and drink some, he wants to have some too. Do you hand him the bottle and not drink any more out of it yourself? Share it and drink after each other without a second thought? Or?
EASY one for me. I would share the bottle and not think another thing of it, assuming this friend or relative is not currently suffering from something contagious. Germs are NOT a thing for me and I would happily share my bottle with anyone I cared about.

(5) You're out to dinner with a girlfriend and there's a very famous male celebrity seated just two tables over. What do you do, if anything?
Try to take pictures without being obvious? Slug back a margarita and then go over and say hi? Try as hard as I can to remember they are JUST people too and strike up a conversation if he seems open to it?

(6) Your just found out your 48 yr old best friend is pregnant. (Oops). Do you tell her you're really, really sorry or do you start celebrating immediately and try to make it seem like it's a good thing while inside you're saying, 'I am so glad it's not me!'?
I would go by her reaction, I think. Is she happy or devastated? Support whichever. Be glad it isn't me and also very sad it isn't me. I would have had more babies if my age, income and energy would have allowed for it. I still want babies. Where the heck are my damn grandchildren when I need them?

(7) If you could plant your whole back yard with flowers, what kinds would you choose?
Something that grew profusely, took little care and didn't bloom for a matter of weeks and then turn into boring, tall, falling over greenery that just looks sloppy. What that would be, I have no idea whatsoever.

(8) Do you like chocolate milk?
Haven't had a glass of it in 30 years but yes, I do and I bet I'd love it just as much now as I did last time.

(9) Are you afraid to shop or pay bills online?
Not really. I choose websites carefully, of course, and tend to only use well known, established ones but I've never been burned except for ONCE when the company advertised a product, said it was headquartered in Canada and it was China . . . and then sent a totally defective product.

(10) Are you a cat person? Why or why not?
I grew up as a "dog" person but married a "cat" person. Now I really enjoy some cats . . . ours is cuddly and sweet and not aloof and pretentious. So I like this cat. Others, not so much.

Should you come by and read these and want to answer these questions, or the new ones below, please feel free. Leave a comment in the process.

1. Do eye drops make you want to run screaming into the night when the eye doctor comes at you? why or why not?
2. Do you think people should be free to express their religious--or lack thereof-attitudes without repurcussions?
3. In our society, who is more persecuted for their philosophy: Christians or atheists?
4. If you found out the world was ending in 24 hours, what would you spend it doing?
5. If you could only recommend one book and/or one movie to someone, what would it be?
6. If you could tell one person one thing and have it completely accepted by them, without comment or argument, what would it be?
7. When you are feeling especially emotional, what song plays in your head (or if it doesn't, what does play in your head?)?
8. What do you do when your back itches and there's no one around to scratch it for you?
9. If you could give your children one skill, what would it be?
10. Are you an e-mail person, a snail mail person or a phone person? Why?

Can't wait to find out your answers. Thanks for stopping by!

Saturday, April 10, 2010

A Parrot on my Shoulder

Remember my earlier post about dreaming? Well, here is another one, only this one at least does not involve people I love and miss.

This morning, after going to bed too late and waking too early, I came downstairs and cuddled on the couch with my hubby and fell asleep in the process. While sleeping, I had a strange and convoluted dream about social workers, adoption and a HUGE parrot that they made me carry around on my shoulder. It had falcon talons on it and they were digging into my left shoulder and neck and since I'm not a bird fan in the first place, I was upset in the dream. Kept begging someone to PLEASE take it off my shoulder. Everytime I reached for it, it just dug in deeper.

Now, after waking up and mulling over the dream, I am still stymied on why I was adopting a child and why, in the dream, Joseph had added a brick wall to the garage and it was in the wrong place . . . but I know why the parrot was there. When I went to the doctor last week, she told me that I most likely had thoracic outlet syndrome (which is exactly what I had figured out earlier from researching on the web!). It is a pinching of the nerves between your clavicle and first rib. It is due to (1) car accidents throughout life [check!] and (2) repetitive motions like typing on a keyboard for hours every day [big check!]. It causes arm, shoulder and neck pain, your arms fall asleep all the time, they get major weak especially if you try to use them overhead, you can't carry stuff on the shoulder very long without pain--heck, it has gotten to the point I can't carry my purse and even writing for a long period of time wears out my arm. Yea, it sucks. I have an appointment next week for a physical therapy evaluation. [Now we can compare notes, Susan!]

I don't think the condition is serious but it is exhausting. I sit up every morning moaning and wincing and feeling like I have parrots with talons on each shoulder. Yes, I take meds for it, but you know, those aren't good for you either . . . I'm counting my blessings though that it isn't my heart as I was worried it was when it began hurting so much.

So whine, whine, whine. I'm worried because this week I am going to Seattle twice (3-4 hours round trip). On Monday we are driving there to get a Versa trailer that Joseph has been yearning for more than a year. Whenever he found one (they aren't made any more, so it isn't easy), it was either $600 and up and/or on the other side of the country. He finally found one for less and just in Seattle so we're driving up to get it. Then, on Thursday, we are taking Amtrak with the homeschoolers to Seattle for the day. It's a fun ride--Amtrak is a great way to travel. We will leave at 8 a.m. and return at 10 p.m. and I have to admit, I am so worried that I will completely wear out about 3 hours in between the pain and fatigue and the anemia . . . I've told Nicole that she and Jon, who has taken the day off to go with us, should forge ahead on their own so I don't hold them up. But you know, it's hard on the ego to know that I'm forcing everyone to slow down or limit what they would do. SIGH. I am also aware that the last time we made this trip was in April 2007 when my mom came out. She had a great time going to Seattle and I will miss her at every turn.

Gee! Aren't you glad you stopped by to read my post now? Cheerful, aren't I?

Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to bed and hopefully, instead of some mean parrot, I will dream about calorie/carb free chocolate . . . . . served by muscular shirtless men. Yea, right.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Romance at Half a Century Plus

Last night I was reminded that it doesn't matter how old you are or how long you have been together when it comes to romance. After almost 28 years together, Joseph and I have seen it all. We've been through the tough stuff, the funny stuff, the embarassing stuff, the heartbreaking stuff, the silly stuff, and the humdrum, daily routine stuff. Through it all, we have gotten along well and truly are each other's best friend.

Last night, however, we were at a brew pub. He was sitting in one section of the place, hanging with his VW buddies, drinking beer and talking engines. I was sitting in another section with Nicole, laughing, writing letters and munching on guacamole and chips. Throughout the course of the evening, Joseph and I checked in with each other. He had to pass by me on the way to the bathroom and since he was drinking beer . . . .let's just say it made for several visits. I also went over to him a couple of times over the two hours and touched base, gave a quick kiss, said hi to his friends, etc.

On some Monday nights, a bluegrass band plays in the pub. Last night, it was just the radio, tuned to an oldies channel that I must admit once again proves that MY generation's music was the best. :) Anyway, a new song started and the first note told me it was "Unchained Melody", which is our song. I looked over at him to see if he had noticed. I planned to smile at him and then let him go on talking to his buddies. When I glanced over, he was already standing up. He walked over to me and we slow danced to the song, right there in the pub. He wasn't embarassed to do so in front of his friends. He didn't worry about what "the guys" thought. It was very much just OUR moment.

That was romance.

I am one lucky woman to be loved like this.

Monday, April 5, 2010

I Dream about Dead People. . . .

Dreams are really amazing things, aren't they? Authors of all kinds have written about them. Journals are devoted to them. Psychologists make money analyzing them. I have one child who dreams vividly almost every nite and keeps record of all of them. My husband never recalls a single dream that he has. I dream 3 to 4 times a week that I am aware of. In the last year or so, they have had a recurring theme and I don't like it.

I dream about the people in my life that I love and cannot see in reality. I dream about my mom and dad who died. I dream about my oldest daughter who I miss because I have not seen her in so long. I dream about friends I have lost along the years to illness, suicide and car accidents. One friend of mine insists that I dream about people who have died because that is their spirits way of visiting me. Okay. Well, I don't believe that but it sounds nice.

I believe I dream about these people for a simple reason: I love and miss them so they are on my mind. When I dream of them, things are okay again. If I am dreaming of my mother, for example, she is always so apologetic for the fact that I thought she had died. It was all a big misunderstanding and she is fine. We laugh over it and then have lunch, go shopping or any of a dozen other things we used to do together. I dream of my dad and asking his advice on important matters. He always has the right answer for me too. I dream of Jasmine and we are laughing together and having fun. There is no tension, no underlying anger, no worries about saying or doing something that will spark disagreement. We are just mother and daughter who love each other. I hope that, unlike with my parents who are gone, that may one day turn into reality. In the meantime, I wait and wonder and worry. Ah, parenthood.

Of course, I also have ridiculous dreams . . . . like surviving a tsunami because we are in the VW bus and it floats . . . or going shopping at a store that has nothing in my size or price range . . . . or last night's hosting a party where I didn't know and didn't like anyone who came. Sheesh.

So, I go to bed, perchance to dream but I don't always enjoy the process.