One Walk, One Day

Since I am assuming that you are reading this while sitting at your computer or sitting with your laptop I don’t feel the need to forewarn you to sit down.  What I am about to say will SHOCK my family and friends.  I took a 30 minute walk today! I kid you not!  I actually got up off the couch and walked around the Rocky Butte Trail a couple of times.  Of course, before I went for a walk I ate a Cookie Dough Twisted Frosty and afterwards I took a 2 hour nap.  But, hey it is a start and I hope to do it again sometime soon.  Today was our first really, beautiful spring day.  The sun was shining, the wind speed was below 20 mph and the temperature was a balmy 63 degrees.  With these weather conditions I felt obligated to take a walk.  (Especially since it may snow on Saturday.)  I enjoyed the walk as much as I am able to enjoy any activity that is considered exercise.  There are though a couple of things I need to make note of if I ever decide to do this again.

Note to self:  Wear a sports Bra

My wonderful sister gave me Skechers.  I absolutely love walking in those shoes.  I personally can feel the extra pull in my butt-flab with each step I take.  Thinking I am successfully tightening some of the saggiest muscles in my body, I tend to stomp down a little harder than normal.  This puts an extra bounce in my already Skecher-bouncy steps.  The double bounce in my steps causes a “couple of things” to double jiggle.  Unfortunatley, double jiggling causes more sagging which is definitely something I don’t need at this time.  As it is, I don’t understand why at this point in my life my boobs have this desperate need to grow to the ground.

Go figure! (pun intended)

Note to self:  Walk the loop right to left

I personally like to walk left to right around the park to avoid walking up the steep hill on the north side.  Evidently, I am the only one with this perception.  Everyone else was walking right to left.  It was awkward passing the same people 12 times.  The first time you can say hi, the next 11 times you just look at each other with a dopey grin on your faces and look critically at each other for signs of slowing down.  Anyway, I think they are looking at me.  I am not really sure because everyone else was wearing sunglasses and earbuds.  These people were serious, experienced walkers.  One person even had some measuring device strapped around her arm.  I suppose it was measuring heart rate.  I definitely don’t need one of those since I could hear my heart pounding in my chest in rapid response to months of being sedimentary. I wouldn’t mind wearing device that tallied up the calories that I was walking off.   That way I could justify eating a couple jelly beans when I was done walking.

Note to self:  Wear socks and a T-Shirt you don’t mind sweating in

When I decided to take a walk, I just walked out the door.  I didn’t take a cell phone, no sunglasses, no listening device of any kind and no heart monitor.  It was just me and my legs.

I happened to be wearing my favorite Tinkerbell T-shirt.  The first time around the loop I was doing alright.  However, the second time around the 63 degree sun was beating down on my black T-shirt and I was really starting to sweat.  By the time I got home, Tinkerbell had to be thrown into the wash machine with the sweaty socks I peeled off my feet.  Frequent washing will cause my laundry room  drain to clog up again and with each washing Tinkerbell fades away into oblivion.  From now on a plain, light colored t-shirt with a matching sports bra is the way to go.  Also, I think I can buy some sweat absorbing socks.  I am not really sure, because usually I have cold feet, both literally and figuratively.  I will have to look into this possibility because if the temperature raises one degree I will be pouring sweat out of my awesome Skechers.

Note to self: Take my cell phone with me on my walk

I don’t need my cell phone with me because I am afraid I am going to miss the call that tells me I won a million dollars.  No, I need my cell phone with because my son said so.  Here is the lecture I got today.

Nik:  Where were you?  I tried calling and you didn’t answer at home or on your cell phone

Me:  I went for a walk

Nik:  You went for a walk without taking your cell phone!!!!!!

Me:  I don’t need my cell phone while I am walking for 30 minutes.

Nik: Yes, Mom, you do.  Your cell phone has GPS tracking

Me:  I am walking around Rocky Butte Park.  I won’t get lost.

Nik:  You are totally missing the point.  What if you have a heart attack, roll down the hill and die?   How will we ever find your body?

Me:  Cadaver Dogs?  Seriously, won’t another walker see me?

Nik: No, they are all wearing sunglasses and earbuds.

Me:  Ya, you are right about that.

Nik:  Mom, you are probably the only person in the world who doesn’t exercise with an MP3 Player.

Me:   What’s an MP3 Player?

Nik:  Can you just listen to me for once and please take your cell phone with when you go walking from now on.

Me:  I guess it would be handy in case I would need to call 911 for some reason.

Nik:  And you do know that your new cell phone will be activated tomorrow.  Are you ready for the transition? Did you charge the battery, transfer your contacts and set up your speed dialing?

Me: Um…..I know I put that box with the new phone that came in the mail 2 months ago someplace safe.  Right now I really can’t seem to remember where that safe place is. Can I somehow use its GPS capability to find the phone itself?

Nik:  No and you best get busy and find that phone ASAP.

Me:  What happens if I don’t find my phone and I miss my activation day?

Nik:  I think they round everyone up that misses their activation day and put them and their non-activated phones in a Dead Zone.   Bye Mom.

Here Comes……..

Here comes Obama’s budget tale

Hoppin’ down the deficit trail

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes Society Security time

Too bad the account doesn’t have a dime

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes your entitlement to Medicaid

Too bad not that many bills actually get paid

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes your tax deferred Retirement IRA

It has devalued but you have double the taxes to pay

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes a new Terror System Alert

If it is Imminent someone will get hurt

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes the new airport security

Patting you down ‘til you feel dirty

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes the Easter Egg Bomber taking to the air

I surely hope that the TSA has checked his underwear

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes a plane and the air traffic controller is asleep

Would it help if airplanes had horns they could beep

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes higher gasoline prices every day

It looks like we will all be walking by May

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes higher prices for all foods

Forced diets means a lot more bad moods

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes our iphones as a tracking device

Now everyone will know if we are naughty or nice

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes more earthquakes and earth tremors to Tokoyo

If nuclear plants are going to blow, we should know

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes flaming fires over acres of hills and dell

I wonder who told Texas that they should “go to hell”

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes hundreds of tornados becoming the states’ foe

You can just here Al Gore saying, “I told you so.”

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

Here comes more snow to the Northern Plains

It will keep on snowing until it rains

Hippity, hoppity

Disaster’s on its way

                                                                    SERIOUSLY:

                                                           Here comes Peter Cottontail

Hoppin’ down the bunny trail

Hippity hoppity

Have a HAPPY EASTER DAY!

Laws Overload

In my Google quest for my pal Murphy I, of course, ran into information overload.  There is speculation that the real Murphy was Captain Edward A Murphy.  He was an engineer at the Edwards Air Force Base working on a special project.  He discovered that something had been wired incorrectly.  Murphy actually blamed the technician by saying. “”If there is any way to do it wrong, he’ll find it.”  [Maybe this was also the beginning of our ability to always find someone else to blame]  Eventually, the statement evolved into the law we know today.   Regardless who this Murphy guy really is (or was) he must be a fellow pessimist.   He certainly seems to be the “cup half empty” sort of guy.  Furthermore, if anyone tried to persuade him to see the “cup as half full” he would have snapped back, “Ya right.  I see that cup falling over, and then what do you have….nothing”   Anyway, true to its name the World Wide Web took me on a tangled journey to all kinds of laws. I found laws for technology, cops, teachers, nurses, war, commerce, computers, love and any other topic you can imagine.    My favorite love law is: “Never sleep with anyone crazier than yourself.”  I am thinking I should take this one to heart.  As I was surfing around, the pessimistic laws were spinning out of control, even for me.  One law I came across said: “The light at the end of the tunnel is a train.”  OUCH!  Even I am not that pessimistic.  I was just going to untangle myself from the endless list of laws when I came across this one:  “The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all worlds, the pessimist fears this is so true.” In my opinion this is a law with some substance.  I know that I am afraid of some of the things going on in the world today.  I am afraid that Israel is going to get really pissed off and nuke a country.  I am afraid that the Middle East is going to cut off our oil supply.  I am afraid that my chocolate milk is contaminated with radiation.  I am afraid it is going to rain on the royal wedding.   But closer to home, need I say more than “The National Debt Ceiling?” 14 trillion is a lot of scary zeros if you ask me.  One the “cup half full” side, I guess the Physical Science teachers have a valid answer now when students ask why we need to learn scientific notation.

T(eacher) S(tudents)

T:  Today we are going to learn scientific notation

S: What is that?

T: It is a short-cut way to write large numbers.

S: Can’t we just use our calculator?

T: Most calculators don’t have place values for that many zeros.

S: Whatever

T: For example we write 14 trillion as 1.4 x 10^12 instead of writing out 12 zeros.

S: When will we ever have to know this?

T: Every year on April 15^th when you will need to calculate your tax liability to help the Federal Government payoff its debt.

S: What if we don’t make very much money?

T: If you make any money at all some of it will have to go to the government because it has trillions of dollars of debt.

S: That doesn’t seem fair.

T: Well, it is either pay your fair share of the debt or we all learn how to speak Chinese.

My heart goes out to these students.  They will be so bogged down with debt that they will not be able to buy luxury items like fast cars, Harleys, jet skies, tattoos, boob jobs, or elf ears.

Yes, you read correctly…..elf ears.  I heard on the news the other day that this is the newest fad.  Young people pay money to have cosmetic surgery to have their ears altered to look like elf ears. In this surgery they cut to top cartilage of the ear and then push it back together to make the ear pointed.   They said the surgery is painful and infection is  a huge risk.  First of all I am very curious as to how much such a surgery would cost.  I have a hard time with accepting the fact that parents give their daughters a boob job as a graduation present.   I am hanging on to the hope that when kids ask for elf ears for graduation that the parents say. “We gave you two perfectly good ears.  If you want  elf ears, you will have to pay for them yourself.” The big question is why do young people want elf ears.  One answer is that weird colored hair, weird piercings, and weird tattoos have lost their shock value.   I imagine when a kid comes up to their parents and say, “Mom, Dad, I want my ears elfed” that there is some shock.  However there could be a entirely different reason.  Maybe these young people already understand that the national debt has taken away their American dream.  Their logic is that if they get elf ears, they will become elves.  We all know elves don’t have to get real jobs.   Elves magically make cookies all day, they don’t pay taxes and they live happily ever after.

I Love/Hate Murphy

Murphy’s Law: If anything can go wrong, it will. Boy is that ever true!  I personally have this strange love/hate relationship with Murphy.  I LOVE him because he so simply states his perception which seems to be a universal truth.  I don’t know about you, but my life is governed a lot by Murphy’s Law.  I HATE him because he so simply states his perception which seems to be a universal truth.  Whoever this Murphy guy is (or was) he put this thought of things going wrong out there in the universe.   Since “thoughts are things” we are now dealing with a whole world of things going wrong.   But before I take on the whole world, let me expound on a more personal level.  Murphy’s Law really kicks in when I attempt to clean house.   I hate dusting because it is such a mindless chore.  Plus, I am thoroughly convinced that as I am dusting off surfaces, the dust is just flying through the air and landing someplace else.  Even if I use a dusting spray I see flurries of dust dancing off all sides of the dusting mitt on their journey to another already dusted surface.  I guess it would help if I dusted more often instead of waiting until it looks like a small volcano erupted in my house and covering every available surface white ash.  The TV screen is the worst.   A person can wipe it off every single day.  There must be some Law of Physics that says every dust particle in the room will gravitate towards the television screen.  If the TV screen is already covered and dust particles are still in motion they will land on DVD’s, DVD players, cable boxes, speakers and entertainment units.  All these things are black of course.   BTW, I don’t think it is a very good idea to wipe off the TV screen with a wet rag while you are watching it.  This has something to do with Murphy’s Law,  the laws of electricity and water.   For all the dust that doesn’t land on surfaces it lands on the carpet.  This means the need to vacuum.  This is really where Murphy’s Law kicks in for me.  I will vacuum an entire room only to discover that I had it set on “cleaning tools.”  When I vacuum the hallway, I cannot reach the last 2 inches of carpet because the cord just does not reach.   When there is enough cord it is constantly in the way.  It seems I am continuously flipping the cord out of the way so I don’t vacuum over it.  Vacuuming over the cord constitutes having to replace a belt on the vacuum cleaner and wrapping the damaged cord with electrical tape.  [This would provide Murphy with endless opportunities of mayhem.]  Today when I was flipping the cord out of the way I managed to flip the cord around my glass of ice water and spilled it onto the carpet.  Oh well, I guess I was done vacuuming that room anyway.  Murphy’s Law does not let up when I am trying to clean those floors that aren’t carpeted.  If I use the WetJet to scrub I will run out of solution half way through the job.   If I feel like I really need to get down on my hands and knees to scrub the floor I will knock the scrubbing bucket over when I am backing my way down the hallway.  Actually, this would be a borderline case of Murphy’s Law.   Dumping the water bucket is considered “going wrong.”  However, on the “cup half full” side of things, the scrubbing job speeds up as I try to catch the water before it flows under the stove and refrigerator.  Giant wet dust bunnies have a distinct odor.   Let’s look at Murphy’s Law in the bathroom.  Erma Bombeck is credited with this sub-clause to Murphy’s Law:  “Anything that falls in the bathroom will land in the toilet.” Agreed!  Then there is cleaning mirrors.   I have yet to find a glass cleaner that is truly “streak-free.”  Of course it does make it harder to attain streak- free when Murphy makes me spray the whole mirror with Pledge furniture polish first.  I HATE Murphy because nobody in their wildest imagination can come up with the stuff he does.  Today I took a load of bath towels out of the dryer and put it into a laundry basket.  Then I piled the clothes that I had hung up to dry on top of the basket.  These clothes were all still on hangers.  This means that when I picked up the laundry basket a pants hanger caught on my shoelace unbeknownst to me.  I took one step and then proceeded to get tripped up in a pants hanger hooked to my shoelace.  I and the laundry basket fell over.  I fell on top of the basket that was now  rolling on its side.  I rolled off the basket onto my butt and elbows.  Luckily, this all happened in the privacy of my laundry room.  Since it is snowing here in North Dakota once again I am still wearing long sleeves and won’t have to explain black and blue marks on my elbows.  I LOVE Murphy because so many stupid things can be blamed on his Law.  Ahhhh, the joy of not having to take responsibility for one’s own stupidity.

Memorizing

We already talked about my memory issues.  Anyway, I think we did.  I can’t quite remember.  Today I would like to address my memorization issues.  [There is very little in my life that I don’t have issues with, but you probably already figured that out.].  There are certain things in my life that I just cannot memorize.  Telephone numbers, of course, are one of them.  It is like I have this unwritten rule in my head that the memory capacity for telephone numbers is strictly one-per-person.  Since I have the telephone number from my teen yeas memorized that leaves me struggling with my own phone numbers.  Actually, I was doing alright when everyone’s prefix number was the same.  I could memorize a few telephone numbers.  But then the government stepped in and broke up the telephone monopoly and all sort of new prefixed came with phone numbers.  [I always like when I can somehow blame the government.]  My own phone number changed years ago, and I still always have to pause to think when someone asked for my phone number.   Here is the real crux of the problem.  I hate this huge mental block that I am going to be asked something as simple as my phone number and I will embarrass myself by stumbling over the number or worse yet, not even know it.   I am sure there is some deep, complex psychological issue that can explain this mental defect. [Either that or I am just plain stupid.   I’ll report, you decide]  Since I personally put the fear out there it then indeed happens to me.  It is so embarrassing.  There was this really cute guy that asked for my phone number.  I wrote it down on a piece of paper and slipped it to him.   I was really feeling good about the whole thing.  I was excitedly thing about if he would call, what we would talk about, would he ask me out, where we would go, and how far we would go.  As it turned out, I realized when I got home that I wrote down the wrong prefix for my cell phone number.  God only know who he ended up calling.  All I know is that it wasn’t me.   After my last dating escapade I realize now that the guy probably thought that if this woman can’t remember her cell phone number there is a good chance she isn’t remembering to take birth control either.   My brain is notorious for doing this to me.  When It is super important to remember something I should have committed to memory, my brain goes into lock down mode and I am left looking like an idiot.   It is not just with phone numbers.  It is anything that a normal person with normal brain capacity has no trouble memorizing.  For me the one-per-person unwritten rule also applies to addresses.  I know my own home address so that is my one and not another one can be committed to my memory.  After working a couple of year at the library I still cannot remember the address.  The really sad part is that I see the address many times throughout the day.  Yet, I cannot remember it since that brain slot is already taken with my own home address.  Just the other day I got the dreaded phone call at work when someone calls and asks, “Where are you located?”  I so badly want to answer with the question, “Where did you get this phone number?”  That way when they say they looked it up in the phone book I can say, “Didn’t you see the address listed there too?”   No, instead I have to ask another worker at the library what our address is.  Unfortunately for me, the last time this happened, the only other person around to ask was my boss. So now I have doubly embarrassed myself.  The person on the phone is wondering how a person with my limited brain capacity even got a job at the library.  Meanwhile, my boss is thinking that she should have asked in my interview if I could memorize the address of my place of employment in a timely matter.  I managed to get past all that but then the caller asks the worst possible question, “How do you get to the library?”  This is disastrous for me.   As you can imagine, I am horrible at giving directions.  With the ability to memorize just one address, there is no ability to give directions from any one place to another.  As the caller is faced with complete silence on my side of the conversation it ends up being a game of Twenty Questions.

1.      Are you located downtown.

A: Yes

2.      Can I get there on Highway 22?

A: Yes

3.      Do I go south on Highway 22?

A:  Yes

4.      Do I turn right on 3^rd Avenue?

A: No

5.      Do I turn left on 3^rd avenue”

A: Yes

You get the idea.  I do try to through in some helpful suggestions by mentioning landmarks in the area.  However, more than likely since they don’t know where the library is they also don’t know any of the landmarks that are in the same area.  So that approach isn’t any help to them.  This fatal phone call ended with the question:

20.  Does the building say Public Library on it?

A: Yes  [But unfortunately on only one side of the building which means that whoever I gave directions probably had to circle several large brick buildings in the area until they found the library.]

 

Eventually everyone will have and –phone and they will be able to download the “How-to-get-t the-Public-Library” app.  I have this feeling that the downloadable app will conclude with this statement… “You have successfully reached your destination.  Now go inside and tell that loser where she can go.”

 

 

Hit Snooze

SUNDAY NIGHT POST!!  I purposely didn’t post until tonight because I still feel so strongly that it ever a person needs a day brightener it is on a Monday morning.   Maybe I am wrong about this or maybe weekend postings work better for most people.  I really don’t know.  What I do know is that  I struggle with Monday mornings.  Starting another work week doesn’t fill my mind with pleasant thoughts of sunshine and rainbows.  Nope, Monday mornings when the alarm goes off my mind is cloaked in “grouchitude”   The first thing I do when I hear the alarm is groan and then hit the snooze button.   Wait, “hit” is too soft of a word.  I pound the snooze button.  Then the battle in my Monday morning mind begins.

Me

MC – My conscience

 

MC: Get up.

Me: Shut up.

MC:  You have to get up and get ready for work

Me: I hit snooze.  I have 10 more minutes to sleep.  I need those 10 minutes if I am going to be able to function at all today.

 

9 minutes of silence as I fall back into a deep solid sleep since I wasn’t fully awake in the first place.  Then the alarm goes off for the second time and I pound snooze again for the second time.

 

MC: Get up.

Me: Shut up.

MC: You have to get up for work.

Me: No I don’t.  I hit snooze and I now have 10 more minutes to sleep

MC:  May I remind you that when you set the alarm last night you only figured in the one-snooze-option and not the two-snooze-option.

Me: Just give me 9 more minutes.  After that I will get up totally refreshed and ready to begin the new work week.

MC: You are so full of shit.

 

7 minutes of silence as I fall back into a sound sleep dreaming of sunshine and rainbows until the alarm blares at me for the 3^rd time.

 

MC: Don’t even think about hitting the snooze or you will be running 20 minutes late.  You know if you have to rush around Monday morning playing “Beat the Clock” that only makes you grouchier and gets the entire work week off to a bad start.

Me: Way to curse my whole week with bad karma.

MC:  Just giving you the facts.

Me:  Ok, Ok, I will get up.  But if I die of exhaustion it is on you.

MC:  I am you.

Me: Don’t try to confuse me.  I am so tired I can hardly thing straight.

MC:  Quit the pity party.  Get out of bed and get to work like a responsible adult.

Me:  I am moving to Never Never Land.  I am going to be like Peter Pan and never have to grow up and go to work.

MC: If I remember correctly Peter Pan had a full-time job fighting of pirates.

Me:  Ya, but he had fun doing it and the pirates were idiots.

MC:  What part of “Fairy Tale” do you not understand?  In REAL life, world governments can’t outsmart the pirates unless they are drugged up 17 year old kids that panic.

Me: Ok, point taken.

MC:  May I remind you that you are now running 15 minutes late, the pair of panty hose you just put on are the only ones you have and they have a run in them, you need to pluck those two long hairs hanging off your chinny chin chin (speaking of fairy tales), and you didn’t fill the car with gas yesterday so you will have to pray that you don’t run out of gas on the way to work.

Me:  To make up time I won’t eat breakfast.

MC:  May I remind you of a couple of things.   First of all, when you don’t eat breakfast your “grouchitude” increased exponentially.  Second you already drank a Diet Coke.

Me:  What does drinking a Diet Coke have to do with anything?

MC:  Well, the caffeine increases your appetite and the carbonation causes your stomach to growl so loudly it is considered an unacceptable noise level in the library.

Me:  You are right.  Last week this guy came up to the desk complaining about the noise level in the library and he actually was using a computer with headphones.

MC: So what is your plan for not starting off the new work week by being late for work?

Me:  My usual plan.  I will blow dry my hair for 2 ½ minutes and call it good.

MC:  You are so pathetic.  You ALWAYS go to work with messy hair.

Me:  Screw you!

MC: Hold it.  You are not going to start out the week with such a bad attitude.  I suggest that you work on some attitude adjustments before you get to work.

Me:   Any suggestions?

MC:  Well, on your way to work you could look for patches of green grass among the melting snow drifts.  That may give you some nice warm thoughts of spring and lift your spirits.

Me: A whole freaking Japanese Tea Garden in full bloom wouldn’t lift my spirits right now.

MC: Ok, so what is your plan?

Me:  I don’t know.   But maybe if I am lucky someone will post a funny blog that will make me laugh.

MC:  Good luck with that.

 

 

Neti Pot Update

I did the netty pot and I have to say I am pleasantly surprised.   It took me a couple of days to actually work up the nerve to try it.  Since then I have “irrigated” my sinuses a couple of times.

The natural gravity flow really does work.  I am not an expert, but I think the key is to bend far enough forward.  Then you lean your head to the same side as the nasal passage that the solution will be draining from.   The “up” nostril is the one you put the netty pot spout up to and just pour.  There is a slight tingling sensation in the nasal cavities but nothing like what I expected.  The key is to use distilled water.  I found out that my brother Jayme is a netty pot expert.  His advice was to warm the water up for 20 seconds in the microwave so that you pout a slightly warm solution through your sinus passages instead of cold water.   I really thought that the water solution filling my nasal passages was going to make me feel like I was drowning and I would panic.   I even envisioned the water coming out of my eyes.   The water solution flowed gently through my sinuses and I was left, standing, alive and with a great cleansing feeling.   I had imagined that the EMTS would find me sprawled out in a puddle of water on the bathroom floor clutching a little plastic teapot in my hand.  As they  checked for any signs of life they would shake their heads and comment on the fact that I wouldn’t be having trouble with my sinuses anymore.

Seriously, I now want to correct my spelling.  When my doctor said netty pot, I thought “netty” as in rhyming with Betty.  Thanks to Google I now know it is Neti.  This technique of pouring a salt water solution into one nostril and letting it run out through the other using gravity as an aid is an old yogic technique known as jala neti. [yogic which refers to yoga and not Yogi Bear]  Neti is Sanskrit for “nasal cleansing”. Sanskrit is the liturgical language of Hinduism and Buddhism.   I also found out there is another method called sutra neti that uses a piece of string instead of water.  I stopped my research right there.  TMI!  I don’t even want to think about threading a string through my nasal passages.

Pseudoephedrine

Reluctantly I went to the doctor yesterday.  I have been battling sinus problems and all my life.  I even had to miss a half day of work this week because my sinus headache was so bad I could barely lift my head off the pillow.   Thanks to all the meth addicts in North Dakota I never think to make a special trip to the drug store to ask for pseudoephedrine which can’t be sold on the shelf.  If I could just pick up some Sudafed at Walmart I would be fine.  This sinus issue of mine is also causing a lot of pressure in my right ear.  I already have a hearing loss due to the numerous ear infections I had as a kid.  Half a century ago there wasn’t the option of having tubes put in your ears.  I had to suffer through ear infection after ear infection.   [Do you feel sorry for me yet?   I am going for pity here!]   Because of these ear infections I have a hearing loss at a weird level.  It isn’t the lowest tones, but a step or two about that.  It is in fact the level that most people speak at when they are in the library.  So, of course I work in a library.  The other day this 20-something guy came up to the desk and asked me something.  He was talking exactly at my no-can-hear level.  I had to ask him twice to repeat himself.  When I finally understood the question I felt really bad.  He wanted to know if there was another restroom available.  The average person wants to quietly ask for the location of the restroom, not shout out their desperate need to find another bathroom.  I can only imagine what names he called me in his head.  In fact, he probably was so irritated with me that he peed in the sink just to get even.   The hearing loss is definitely a handicap.  If I try to do the glass half full attitude, I could look at it that I get to constantly play Mad Gab.  However, glass half empty is the reality that I suck at that game.   Now that I think about it the last guy that asked me out, asked me at the library.   He did say something that I didn’t get.  In the conversation he said, “Eye mull of Mush Sheen.”

I guess I thought he was just talking about “Charlie” since the whole world was talking about him at the time.  I realize now that he actually was saying, “I am a love machine.”   Wished I would have figured that one out before I went out on the date.   But let’s get back to my doctor visit.  She told me to get some pseudoephedrine and a “netty pot.”  I was trying to decipher “netty pot” in my mind when she went on to explain, “It is this little teapot that you use to clean out your sinuses.  You put the solution in this pot, pour it in one side of your nose.  The solution will go through your sinuses cleaning them out and the water comes out the opposite navel passage.”  I must have looked at her with a dumfounded expression on my face because she went on to say, “ You will need to block off your through so that the solution doesn’t run down.”

I continues to stare at her with a blank expression, so she broke down and also gave me a prescription for antibiotics that I could fill on Monday if the “netty pot” thing didn’t work.   In my mind I can’t imagine how this thing would work.   First of all, in what position does your head have to be to pour water in your nose?  Standing on my head comes to mind.  Since I doubt that they expect me to stand on my head I suppose I would tilt my head to one sides and start pouring.  What, may I ask, is the guarantee that this cleaning solution follows the sinus cavities’?

NONE would be my response.   I can think of several places this solution could end up at.  I imagine it going down my through, causing me to gag and then shooting out of my mouth.  I can imagine myself swallowing all of it and then getting the runs as it cleans out my intestines.  I can imagine it all flowing into my ear passages and with staying there or slowly dripping out of my ear for a couple of days.  So I ask myself, what color is this solution when it comes back out from cleaning my sinuses.  I can picture myself at work, checking books out to a patron when they say to me, “Did you know you have some green stuff dripping out of your ear?”   I have not disregarded the fact that for all intense and purposes that when I take on the “netty pot” I actually could conceivably drown myself.  If you don’t see another post on my blog, you can assume that I meet with a horrible fate……Death by “netty pot.”

 

Speed Dating

My dating dilemma sparked an interesting conversation between me and my son when he was home for Springbreak

N(ik)

Me

 

N:  Mom, maybe you should try speed dating.

Me:  Son, at my age all dating is speed dating.

N: No, I meant the organized event of speed dating.

Me:  You lost me.

N: You know, when the girls sit at the table and then every 3 minutes the guys get up and move around the tables to meet each girl. It is a way to meet a lot of people at one time and maybe you can even hook-up, I mean, connect with someone.

Me:  You said “hook-up”.  How is that different from “connect?”

N: Um……it is just a phrase young people use.  Connect is sounds too formal.

[I think he was lying about this but I can’t be sure]

Me: I think I did see speed dating on a Law & Order:SVU episode once.  Olivia was participating so she could make a date with a serial rapist she and Stabler were after.  Sounds promising. (sarcasm)

N: No, you are missing the point.  At speed dating you can meet like up to 20 people.  Anyone that impresses you is a possible candidate.

Me:  Candidate for what…..speed sex?

N:  (eye rollage) for a date.  Guys and gals write down their top 5 picks and the organizers match people up by the lists that were made.  Then they (the organizers) give you e-mail addresses of the people you matched up with.   That way you can e-mail them and set up a date.

Me: OK, just a second.  How much time do you get with each person at the table?

N: Three minutes.

Me:  WHAT!  What can you possibly tell about a person in three minutes?

N:  Actually, I think the concept is based somewhat on first impressions and gut feelings.

Me:  Great.  The only gut feeling I ever have is a gas build-up and I need to fart.

N: Don’t you believe in those “love-at-first-sight” stories?

Me:  I guess it is possible.  But in my case it would take me 30 seconds for my bifocals to adjust to the person sitting across the table from me to even see them clearly enough to get a first impression.  That leaves me 2 minutes and 30 seconds to really get to know this person.  Besides, what if everything he tells me is a lie.

N: You have to watch their body language.

Me:  You mean like when someone’s face crinkles up right before they burst into tears?

N:  No, mom, no one would actually do that at speed dating.

Me:  I could see me doing it.

N: Mom, you have to be able to read people’s microexpressions.

Me: Is a little wink like a microexpression?  You know I can’t wink.  I only can blink with both eyes at the same time.  If I try to wink I have to think really hard about which eye I am going to wink with.  Then I life up my cheeck, bring down my eyelid (cheeck and eyelid are hopefully on the same side of my face) and keep my eye closed a little too long.  By this time the person thinks I have some sort of facial spasmodic condition.

N: Mom, really, you are missing the whole point.  [yet again]

Microexpressions are facial expressions that just flash across a person’s face for a fraction of a second and they reveal the person’s true emotions.

Me:  Oh, like if a person is lying they will scowl and their eyes will look suspiciously from side to side.

N:  Mom, I think that actually only happens in cartoons.  Liars actually may deliberately make eye contact to make their lie seem more believable.

Me: So I am back to the original question.  How would I know if someone is lying about themselves?

N: Well, actually, if someone moves their eyes for a micro second to the left they are probably lying.  If they move their eyes for a micro second to the right they are trying to remember details.  This is the case, of course, if the person is right handed.  For a left-handed person the eye movements will be reversed

[I cock my head distinctly to my left should, which I find out means, I am totally confused]

 

Me: Who’s left?

 

[At this point my son glares at me and mumbled something about “probably nobody”]

 

Me: No, I mean, if I am sitting across from this person his right is my left and my right is his left.  If I am going to read the body language correctly between lying and details I need to know who’s  right and who’s  left we are talking about so I don’t get mixed message or I mean the messages mixed-up.

[My son tilts his head down towards his chest and shakes his head back and forth, which I think means this conversation is hopeless]

N:  Mom, just forget it.

Me: Well, why doesn’t everybody just blink excessively, blush and bite their nails when they lie like I do?

 

[At this point my son put his hands on his hips (a sign of impatience) and said, “Forget I ever mentioned his speed dating thing.”

M:  Wait!   [I had to say “wait” because my son turned and started to walk away which I am pretty sure meant this conversation is done.]

 

M:  Wait! I just have one more question.  What if after this speed dating thing you don’t get any e-mails matching you up with anybody?

 

[My son answered my question with a question.]

N:  How are you emotional skills for handling rejection?
Me:  They suck, just like my reading body language skills.

N:  Ya mom, don’t be signing up for speed dating any time soon.

 

The Dating Game

Wait.  Wrong title.  “Game” implies there would be rules.  Dating in the 21^st Century has no rules.  Anything and everything goes.  If I thought 21^st century gadgets were confusing, they are nothing compared to the complications of today’s dating scene.  I easily could write The Idiot’s Guide to Dating.  First of all, because I am an idiot when it comes to dating and secondly, I believe the entire book would be one word…..”Don’t.”   I know this whole dating debacle is mostly just me.  Thankfully most people don’ have issues with the anything goes attitude.  Me, I would rather have at least a few sociably acceptable guidelines. .   For example, when a woman is asked out for dinner by a man, it would be nice to know what the sociably acceptable correlation is between what is ordered versus what is then owed.  (And I am not talking financially)  Let’s assume the guy asks the gal out to dinner and is going to pick up the tab.  If you want to end the evening with a polite thank you and a quick kiss on the check before you jump out of the car, don’t order mare than a couple of carrot sticks and a glass of water.   If you order any kind of pasta, expect more kissing action involving the tongue.  [However, feel free to try pasta with a heavy garlic sauce and that might delay the open mouth kissing session for one more date]   If you order a steak you may be playing with fire.  It really depends on what your date orders.  If he orders a steak with a bake potato it could mean that he is counting on all the zinc, magnesium and proteins in beef that contribute to muscle strength.   On the other hand, if he orders a steak with onion rings on the side, it could be that he is trying to send the message that he forgot to take a Viagra before he left the house.   If you are really adventurous, go ahead and order steak and lobster, but no desert.  Because girl, you are the desert!

Now what if the guy asks the gal to a movie?   Again, there are subtle social cues that a person needs to be aware of.  If you are attending matinee, it makes a difference if your date offers to buy you a Jumbo Popcorn or Junior Mints.   If the guy buys you a pack of Junior Mints and makes a bee-line for the back row I guess it won’t matter what show you will be attending.   The evening show is a little bit trickier.  Your date may buy you popcorn and still want to sit in the very back row.   This could mean that while you are chomping on buttered popcorn and watching the movie, your date is sleeping.  He is resting up for later…..after the movie.   Obviously, I am not talking about having n intriguing conversation about the plot of the movie since your date slept through it.  No, we a talking about your date’s smooth plan to put the moves on you now that he is all rested up.  After all the evening show costs more than a matinee, plus he bought you refillable popcorn and pop.   Don’t get me wrong.  I know that there are instances when a woman has totally given up on men, then meets Mr. Perfect, falls madly in love and gets married.  On the Hallmark Channel this all happens within an hour and 15 minutes. (when you factor out the endless commercials)   In real life I guess I do believe in “love at first sight.”  The problem is that now days it isn’t the first love at first sight.   Wouldn’t it be a great idea if potential dates came with a RBI Stats?  (Reliable Batting Information)

Information like:  1) Do you walk or run to the bases?

2) have you had to sit out a season because of a STD?

(Standard Training Disease)

3) What are your Home Run statistics?

4) What is your Batting Average?  That is what the measure of a batter’s

performance; the number of base hits divided by the number of official

times at bat;

5) Do you play for more than one team?

I personally think this would be good information to have before the game begins. But it doesn’t really matter to me.  I have been traded for a nun out at the Abbey that doesn’t strike out nearly as many times as I do.