Catastrophe!

My wedding is scheduled for January 10th. Yesterday the hostess of my reception told me, she was too anxious to throw the party. She didn't think she could handle it. She fucking flaked! She flaked because she's too fucking delicate to handle the anxiety. So here I am with 11 days left to schedule a wedding reception.

She is fairly introverted.  She talks to people but she doesn't have a lot of friends. I didn't understand why because I really enjoyed being her friend. I liked talking to her because she was funny and supportive and friendly. I tried to offer her the same. She really suffers from anxiety. I referred her to an excellent psychiatrist a few months ago.  

I am an unapologetic extrovert. I suffer from anxiety too. I was super nervous.  I thrive around people though. I get my energy from being around people. 

Let me back it up a bit. I told her in August I was getting married. I wanted a small ceremony and a larger reception. She offered to have the reception at her house. She knew that this was outside her comfort zone but she wanted to do it because we were friends. I told her I would be with her every step of the way. 

Six weeks ago I confirmed with her, "Before I purchase invitations and mail them out, you're sure this is OK?" She assured me everything would go as planned. I mailed out the invitations to our friends.

Last week I was supposed to deliver some chairs and tables to her house. She cancelled. Then on Friday I received an email. It was from another friend she talked to about it.  She was freaking out about the whole thing.

I responded positively. I would help move her stuff, bring things on specific schedule, didn't want her to spend a dime and would do anything else she asked me to help her through this. I would even come back to her house the day after my wedding when I'm supposed to be celebrating with my sweetheart and help her clean up.  I texted her, "Let me help you. I can do everything if you will simply let people in the door."

I talked to her on Friday and offered to come by on the weekend and she was too busy. She was concerned that it would take me two trips to deliver the stuff.  It wasn't because I would drive that far twice.  She was concerned I would be in her house twice.  Her exact wording was, "You can't bring it in two cars to make it one trip? Oh and I do everything early. It'll have to be around 5 o'clock."  So Charles and I would both have to take off work early to get there on her schedule.  I put up a little resistance.  

On Sunday we agreed on Monday I would bring things she could load into her car. Then I would bring more things the next day, go to her house and unload both our cars to save a trip. She has back problems. I don't. I can do some heavy lifting.

Then on Monday she emailed me at 4:56 AM and said she wouldn't be at work because she was sick.  I decided to confront her and very specifically stated, "Every time I try to do these tasks you insist on completing you cancel. If you're trying to get out of this let me know now." 

Her response was, "I don't want to let you down but I think I'm going to have to back out." 

I said that was fine and hung up the phone.  I had nothing else to say.  I wasn't going to beg or argue or accuse her of being a chicken shit.  I wasn't going to say, "You should put on your big girl panties and follow through with your fucking commitment."  It's her house. It's her anxiety. It's her refusal to commit. She's the one willing to sacrifice a relationship. 

At least it wasn't the day before or the day of the wedding. At least I wouldn't have to spend my wedding day calling my friends to cancel and be left with a cake that could serve 36 people. At least I had 12 days to come up with an alternative.

I talked to Charles and he said, "A friend is someone who's willing to help you move. You were willing to help her move. She isn't. We'll be fine." 

I reminded myself the most important thing that will happen on January 10th is at 3:45 PM I will marry Charles. That's why we're in the middle of this commotion in the first place. Sure, we're in a pickle, but really, all I care about is that his sweet face will be there waiting to announce his intention to love me forever in front of our families, close friends and a judge with the power to make it so.  That was the one thing I had inside my control and for the love of kittens that is going to happen come hell or high water.  I love him. He loves me. We're going to make it a forever deal.

So, back to the story.  I have this friend who jumped into action. I was floundering with a "WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?!" attitude about the situation. Out of the blue she was ready to fix the situation. She totally rescued me.

She recommended this great little wine bar in East Austin.  You buy a bottle of wine.  They uncork it and you sit on a patio with a food trailer in the back and have yourself a nice bottle of wine and eat at the food trailer. The one issue was that you have to sit outside and it's January and the weather that night suggested we'd all be freezing.  We went to check it out anyway.  They have an attic where we could invite 15 people, buy wine, bring snacks, eat at the food trailer and have some good quality human connection. It will be perfect.

So it's fixed, sort of... This will work out better because I won't have to hold someone's hand.  If we made it to the party she would have fizzed out. Last night I had a series of thoughts about worst case scenarios. She would throw everyone out half an hour after they got there or she wouldn't open the door in the first place.  At least she gave me a bit of notice so I don't have my own fizz-out.

If she comes to me or calls me and begs for forgiveness I will say, "You are selfish and rude and I refuse to comfort you with my forgiveness. And furthermore I have no interest in pursuing our relationship." She'll cry and make excuses and I don't give a single shit. She's the one who has to cope with it.

On a lighter note, I had the following conversation with Charles last night: 

Me: So I handled this whole situation OK?

Him: Oh yeah. It reminded of me this kid when I lived in Marlin. We called him Mo-ped boy because he would ride this Mo-ped around town. He was mentally challenged though and never quite figured out how to turn on the brakes to stop it. He would just crash into the curb, get thrown off the bike, lay there for a minute, then pick himself up, brush himself off and go on about his business.

Me: I handled it like a retarded kid who was too retarded to operate the brakes on his Mo-ped?

Him: Well yeah, but he was a very determined individual. He was so determined to go about his business that he was willing to get thrown off the moped to do it.  You got thrown off your bike, laid there for a minute and then picked yourself up and brushed yourself off. There's no way to get out of this is there?

Me: Nope... 

And then I erupted in laughter.

And we're back

Mom's finally back home. She isn't completely mobile but she's got a walker and has taught herself to navigate through the house.  Her calves are in pathetic shape. She's got physical therapy though and they'll get her fixed up.

I watched a show on Netflix yesterday called "Exile". It has John Simm in it and I adore him so I enjoyed it because he was in it.  It also has Jim Broadbent who plays his father who has Alzheimer's. Oh for the love of kittens did it freak me out. I simply don't know what I would do if I had to watch that happen to my mother.

Not that Mom will get that. I just see her getting older and I see my responsibilities increasing.  I see Charles' mother getting older and further potential responsibility. I don't mind so much.  It doesn't even feel like an obligation but it is certainly intimidating.  I won't just dump mom off at the nearest nursing home and wish her luck. Charles won't do that to his mother either.

My mom told me things about the Nursing/Rehab facility where she stayed that really made me sad. She was so unhappy there but she put on a good face for me so I wouldn't feel guilty.  She added, "If you hadn't been there everyday like you were, I would be telling you a completely different story." 

One night she called me at 2:00AM because she wasn't able to get help to go to the bathroom and she'd wet the bed and no one would help her. I got in my car bleary-eyed, half dressed and pissed off. I charged into that building on a mission. The nurse was asked me, "Why didn't you call?" I simply said I didn't have the number. 

I knew my presence was a lot more formidable in person. I could intimidate them for the next six weeksby showing up on her second night at 2:00AM. I gave them a pass that night and didn't report them to the administration. They responded appropriately once I got there. 

The next time I called the administration. After that everyone loved my mom.  It may have been by force, but I do not care.  They had the choice to love my mom or lose their job. It was up to them.

Once she gained enough mobility to go to the bathroom herself she said she was fine, but the first 2 weeks were terrible.  It makes me sad to think she was up there faking it for me while she was suffering. I know they have limited staff.  I would have participated more. I just have to trust I did the best I could with the information I had.

She survived it with most of her dignity intact. She didn't complain while she was there and her complaints since she's been home were actually pretty mild. She respects that going up there every day was a chore for me and is thankful I did so they could see I gave a shit. 

Some of the patients had families who came to visit on a regular basis.  One woman's husband put a recliner in her room and stayed there with her. The woman across the hall from my mother who was suffering from dementia and horrible to her family had them coming with her laundry.  She was always dressed in matching outfits with matching shoes and socks. She was well cared for. There were others who sat in the middle of the room and begged to be talked to. 

I know I will need to do research on what happens next as she gets older. I know I will need to develop a plan to keep me and my relationships healthy. I will have to incorporate structure into her life that she would not create for herself. I will need to make sure she takes her medicine, eats enough, bathes and gets exercise. 

I will do with her like I do with my cats. I know she's far more complicated than my cats, but everyday I have morning and evening tasks for them. I will do the same for her.  I also have to fit in time to take care of myself in the mix. Thank goodness I participated in the training and volunteering with SafePlace. They taught me what to do and how to do it.

None of this is easy and some days it may be especially difficult but I hope I have the wisdom to know when I need to ask for help. I hope I have the ability to recognize when I need to change my routines. Mostly I hope I have the ability to take care of myself in the process.  

I have a crazy aunt who wasn't alright to begin with but chose to care for my grandmother.  She got that caretaker syndrome and it was really scary. The story in the end was really sad and weird and no one ended up okay. 

I love my mom too much for that to happen. I know next I will love Charles' mom too. I know we are a team in the fight against old age with our mothers but our love for them and each other is strong enough to do this as a team.

Here we go again

My mother in all her grace managed to break not one, but both of her ankles. She was walking down a small little tiny set of stairs and on the last step she fell off, landed funny and down she went.  Her right ankle was broken in 3 places and her left one had a hairline fracture on one of the bones.

The orders read, "No weight bearing on the left foot for 4 weeks or the right foot for 6 weeks."

Well... shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit...

She has been placed back in the nursing home where she was when she was recovering from her colon surgery.  I had visions of her wasting away in bed for 6 weeks but they have her in physical and occupational therapy for two hours a day.  They are building her strength for everything above her knees so she will be able to support herself on a walker and rebuild the strength she loses in her calves.

I'm really proud of her especially because she is completely focused on her recovery.  She said, "I want to walk out of here."  One, she wants to get the hell out of there.  Two, she wants to walk again.

I visit her at least once daily.  I try to bring her popsicles. We may watch the news. We may just sit and talk.  Sometimes Charles is with me and he will sit and visit with her too.  It makes me happy that he is supportive of her recovery too.

The sad bit about all this is that we had to give up the dogs.  We both love the dogs but the potential for them to cause her to fall again is too high. I gave them to Westie Rescue.  They know what they're doing and will find them a good home.

My heart  breaks when I walk in the door and they aren't there to maul me. It's weird because they drove me crazy.  They ate my couch.  They destroyed every carpet they ever encountered. They cost us thousands of dollars in destroyed apartments, vet bills and grooming expenses but they were worth it. In time I will forget the couch. I will forgive the messes and the bills.

The lessons I've learned include:

• Be satisfied with loving other people's dogs.
• Use the accessibility entrance to the apartment building.
• Self-care is by far the most important skill anyone can ever learn. If you don't take care of yourself you can't care for anyone else.
• Be thankful every day for the support network you've spent your life developing.

I am most thankful that this is not a life or death scenario.  While it is still very painful and inconvenient she'll survive and carry on to raise hell another day.  (Yay Mom!)

Moved!

I'm still living with my Mom. I moved her with me.  We're just in a newer and better apartment.  

The complex isn't as nice but I was never going to use the bocce ball court or the 9 pools or the state of the art gym with all the meat heads.  I did get drunk and get into the hot tub with Charles one night.  But that was once and luckily no one noticed us.  

Besides that? I had bed bugs, my car was vandalized and the management treated us like shit.  When I turned in the keys, because they were holding our deposit hostage, I said nothing though she deserved the full force of my personality. I didn't call her a bitch and I didn't punch her in the face.  Be proud.

The new apartment is SO much nicer.  It's smaller and we'll have to squeeze ourselves in there.  The amenities include, stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops and wood laminate flooring.  I think the laminate flooring was the main selling point.  I do not want carpet ever again. 

This is why:

Bad & Badder

 Besides the laminate flooring looks a lot nicer.  

I think we'll be happy here. Mom is still sort of reluctant about Charles moving in and Charles is still a little edgy about moving in but it's just because they're intimidated by each other.  He should be a little intimidated of her but he's really laid back and she has nothing to worry about.  

She lived with Ian and he was bossy and aggressive.  He intimated both of us on more than one occasion with his opinions and his temper though he will deny it.  When you're 6'4" and you bellow, no matter how hard you try not to be, you will intimidate your audience.  

Charles is more like a hobbit.  He's shorter with giant, yet surprisingly elegant, feet and a very kind and sweet disposition.  

He says he likes my feisty personality.  He doesn't mind that I'm bossy because he won't mind anyway.

We are opposites in many ways but we balance each other out.  He gets passion, spirit and enthusiasm while I get sweet, gentle and stable.  We are equally intelligent and capable of communicating on the same level.  

My mom is an older version of me.  She is calmer because with age comes wisdom and dismantled give-a-shit.  It is obvious though that I was raised at her knee to learn how to be just like her.  Fortunately Charles is laid back enough to handle both of us with grace and charm and kindness.

This will work out well.

And now for a little bit of cute

This is the cutest picture I've seen in a long time. It makes me happy in spite of what the stupid legislative body is or rather isn't doing. So have a happy on me.

Giving up... ?

I made some sort of comment on a political thing that I read and was told by a lady I used to work with that I was filled with hate.  That burns.  I like to think I'm rather loving and gentle and accepting of humans in general.  I thought my response deserved a bit more attention than just those who bother to read comments on Facebook.  Here was my response:

I don’t hate Republicans. I align myself with Liberals because I believe everyone deserves healthcare, no child should ever be hungry, regardless of the source of the hunger, all children deserve a competitive, free education and there’s nothing wrong with homosexuality.  I also think the abortion argument is flawed for exactly ONE reason. If the government doesn't want women to have abortions, they why isn't birth control free?  I’ll be pro-life when I see all forms of birth control cheap and easy to access.  I see little logic in their arguments, mostly because it’s either based on a book written 2000 years ago or the predatory language of the Koch brothers.  Moderates have lost their voices and either been swallowed into the Tea Party fray, removed from office for the likes of Ted Cruz or become unheard independents.

I hate what the Republican Party has become.  It pains me to see a relatively small minority have such a loud voice and powerful position in our legislative body.

Everyone I know is angry and scared about this.  We don't all agree on the politics but we all know the consequences of a government shut down. I read on Bill Moyer's website an article where if we want to win we have to sacrifice everything.  It's a good article, TLDR: They win, we lose.

I fear at some point we, the liberals, will be seated with our heads in our hands, just having acquiesced because we can no longer match their zealous insanity with logic.  You can't tell someone who won't listen why their logic has no basis in reality.  It's simply easier to wave it off, say "fuck it" and move to Colorado where it's legal to smoke pot and have your give-a-shit dismantled.  At least in Colorado they were smart enough to legalize pot, where they can regulate and tax it and build public infrastructure and educate kids... 

oh wait... just fuck it, remember?

I'm just tired of being angry all the time. I acknowledge moving to Colorado and becoming a pothead isn't the answer. As a state employee though, this stuff really does matter and we are left here to watch this grinding train wreck of a legislative body terrorize us with their insanity.  

I suppose I should acknowledge the things I cannot change.  It's that whole wisdom to know the difference that I'm lacking.  

Not again... More table manners

I went to Threadgill's with my Mom last night.  We hadn't been there in a few weeks and I do generally like their food.  Actually she wanted to go to dinner at Brio or PF Changs or NXNW and I wasn't in the mood for the crowd, the wait or the pretense.  At Threadgill's I didn't have to do anything to look nicer.

We were seated in a section away from the main dining room that has the makings for a nicer intimate setting.  We sat down and immediately three men behind us finished eating and started talking.  They were older men.  None of them could hear the others so they were shouting at each other.  I could hear their entire conversation and had to speak over them to place my order.

Now I perceive this as an irritation.  They couldn't help they had hearing issues.  My only complaint was their series of comments about waitresses in general.  They also were bashing the University of Texas football team.  I could give a shit, but that's dangerous territory in Austin where they are the home team and everyone loves them and everything they represent.

These guys would be classified as a rowdy distraction and there's nothing anyone, especially them, can do about it.

My dad was like that.  He was loud, mean and vulgar at every opportunity unless the waitress was really pretty and then he'd hit on her.  Yes... my 80 year old father, shriveled by age and disability would hit on any woman who might have even a little pretty in her.  That was always fun.  That's a table manner... Don't hit on the waitress.

The biggest issue was after the men left a woman behind me had a very personal conversation with a friend who was putting his mother into hospice care.  She might as well have come to our table sat down and vomited on the table.  That's how appropriate her conversation was in that setting.

So to her I say, Take that shit outside.

Inspiration To Us All

IDIOT!

Who the fuck voted for Ted Cruz?  You should be ashamed of yourself.  My dumbass, shit-eating dog wouldn't be able to fuck up this country as well as this guy does.

He is a FRESHMAN senator from Texas.  Okay that on its own says a lot.  Perhaps he is high on the fumes from the chemical plants in Houston.  I don't know what his problem is but he filibustered a bill he supports!

He does his own thing with his Tea Party agenda.  He refuses to compromise his principles. He doesn't listen to anyone. We're stuck with him for another 5 years.  If no one is paying attention to what an idiot he is we will be stuck with him as the incumbent for decades.  In less than a year he is headlining on all the major news networks as a political power-house.  

Texas, haven't you had enough of the morons?  We have Governor Perry and now we have this wing-nut.  

I read an article by Bill Moyers where he quoted John McCain as calling him a "wacko-bird."  John McCain knows crazy because he is crazy.  If John McCain says you're crazy then you're bull-moose nuts. What did we do to deserve him?

Is anyone paying attention?  If we submit to the Tea Party and their ideals we will all fail as a country.  Their ideals are based on ignorance and fear.  They are justifiably afraid but they are so misinformed they don't know they are being manipulated by the people they should be afraid of.  

The Newsroom

This is my new guilty pleasure.  The term "guilty pleasure" implies that it's stupid but it isn't.  It's brilliant.

It was created and written my Aaron Sorkin who is one of my favorite screen writers.  He is also the brains behind The West Wing, my very favorite all time show in the history of television. I think my next bender will be watching all the seasons again.  This time I will take notes.

I love the way he writes like an articulate intellectual.  His characters always say what I want to say when I'm tongue tied in a political argument.  My best friend says I become very articulate when I'm angry.  And it's true.  When I'm angry and venting about something I turn into a fierce champion for what's right.  When I am confronted with a person I fail to remember all my vocabulary and resort to emotional grunts and moans.

One of my good friends is a Republican.  He is a "Taxed Enough Already" Republican.  He doesn't really care about the Christian right issues but he doesn't want to pay for children he doesn't have to go to school.  He doesn't want to participate in TANF or Snap.  He is fine seeing starving men, women and children suffering from a whole host of diseases on the street.  He chooses not to walk down those streets so it doesn't matter anyway.  He is a social Darwinist. 

He ripped into me and my mother one night with his Fox News dogma.  We very quietly sat through his rant and we did not talk for two months.  His argument was based on financial greed.  He still believes in the trickle down theory of economics and I doubt Nobel Laureate Paul Krugman could convince him to think otherwise.

The Newsroom grabs the Tea Party by the horns and wrestles with it the way the media should.  

In January 2009 John Stewart had a monologue where he told the conservatives who were angry about President Obama's successful bid for the presidency that they had 20 months until the mid term election and they needed to pace their rage.  They did and voted, in my opinion, the most worthless group of legislators I've seen in my lifetime.  A few weeks ago, Terry Gross interviewed Jonathan Weisman of the New York Times on her show Fresh Air, that airs nightly on NPR. It was about how little this congress has done.  ( I have included a link to the show.)

In short they have done almost nothing.  They throw tantrums and try to repeal Obama-care.  They throw more tantrums and deny SNAP benefits to hungry children.  They throw tantrums and revoke funding for education.  They do what they can to shut down the unions.  They do what they can to make abortion illegal yet they also want abstinence-only education in school. And then there are the wars.

I saw a Bill Moyers quote on Facebook that all the money we've spent on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan could fund higher education for all high school graduates for at least the next 50 years.  Maybe that's a bit of a dream that would never come true, but it could feed a lot of hungry kids and supply a lot of after school programs. 

The Newsroom doesn't go into that much detail.  I've spent most of this entry spouting off about my own beliefs.  What it has done has gotten me and a lot of other liberals I know fired up against the Tea Party.  It has reminded us that we are appalled by what they represent.  It has helped us to articulate our arguments against them the next time we have one.

If you are a liberal like I am, get your hands on a copy of it, watch it and take notes.  It'll be worth your time.

Unmarked

I have always wanted to get a tattoo.  But I hesitated because I have sensitive skin.  I found out that some tattoos have metal in them and I'm allergic to a lot of metals.

Examples include:

• When I was 22 I had 3 silver fillings fall out within 5 days. 
• I was unable to wear my class ring because it caused a rash
• If I wear cheap metal jewelry it will turn my skin red in a matter of minutes.
• I tried to have my ears pierced twice and both times it failed to heal so I had what amounted to an open wound for several months each time before giving up.

Currently I have 4 noble-metal crowns and I have replaced all of my fillings with porcelain.  Part of my dental issues are that I have crappy teeth, but the other part is my silver fillings reacted badly with my chemistry and caused further tooth issues.  The teeth can be discussed further in a later post.  I can tell you horror stories that will leave you flossing after every meal.

So, no tattoo for Melissa.

As I got older I researched hypo-allergenic inks and options for designs.  I decided since I am a firm believer in science I would get the equation for the Higgs-Boson particle. It is also referred to as the "God particle" because it supposedly has the potential to be the primary component that created the universe.  I took physics in high school and watched a few documentaries on PBS and am therefore not an expert.

I would get something like this:

Or this:

But considering my knowledge is limited I fear that I have no idea what either means.  I just think it looks cool.  That's what most tattoos represent, right?  "It looked cool so I permanently affixed it to my skin."

I also like this:

In case you aren't a geek it's the T.A.R.D.I.S or what Doctor Who and his companions travel through space and time with. 

When I met Charles I told him what a geek I was and presented him with the image of an equation I wanted to get tattooed on my back.  He casually said that he wasn't into tattoos and I admitted that I didn't have any and that was the end of the discussion.

Then I saw this:

It's a white line tattoo and it makes me happy. There is no metal in white ink. To me it looks lovely and classy and beautiful.  When I brought it to Charles' attention he said, "I'm really not into tattoos.  They will take away your girl-next-door cred and I have issues with that."  We have had long discussions and he has pointed out beautiful girls with "She doesn't have any girl-next-door cred..."  And that's what attracts him to me.

So... no tattoos.  Hmph... 

Today I was in Whole Foods.  Everywhere I looked there were men and women with tattoos.  It is an accepted practice in today's society to get them.  Then I saw a guy with a tattoo on his face.  Really?... on your face?  The only place you can get a job with that is Whole Foods.  

So I realized that I was likely the only person in there over the age of 30 that didn't have a tattoo in the store.  You know what?  That makes me a rebel.  And that's a perfect excuse not to get one.  I'm satisfied.

Rule Number 5

So this story gets a little raunchy at the end.  If you're bothered by that, stop here and enjoy the rest of your day.  If not, carry on, friend, carry on.

So last night I go to visit my friend Amy who is now the proud human to my former cat Buddha.  We all used to live together.  When my ex husband, who got Buddha in the divorce, fizzed out, I called Amy.  She did me a solid and took him in.

I like to visit them because Amy is my friend and I have known and loved Bu since he was a kitten.  He was my cat and I was his biscuit.  He has spent many hours on my lap making biscuits.  My ex finally broke him of the habit until the last time I went to visit Amy and he sat right in my lap and went to kneading my belly.

I understood the parking policy in her apartments to be that I could park in any uncovered spot.  I did not see the big sign that said if I did not live there I was at risk of being towed.  Last night I walked to my car and it was missing.  I panicked thinking it had been stolen and then Amy said, "Oh, they tow here."  What a relief... Someone legally stole my car.  I can at least bribe them to give it back to me.  The bribe cost me $193.10.

I got there and it was of course a neckbeard.  He was about 5'2" and 600 pounds.   He made us wait 20 minutes while he finished his World of Warcraft game and finally said, "It'll be $193.10."  How specific... I grumbled and not a single fuck was given.  I was subjected to his whims if I wanted my car back.

Later after all of this was over I called Charles.  I was in a shitty mood.  I speculated, "He may have had someone sucking his dick back there in order to get her car back."

Of course Charles said, "It wasn't you was it?"

I indignantly said, "NO! I promised you I wouldn't suck anyone's dick. If he said that was the only way I could get it I would've called you."

Then he said, "Oh, so I'd have to suck his dick to get your car?  I'm sorry Babe, but I don't love you that much."

At that we both laughed... I laughed so hard I was in tears by the end.  We agreed never to suck anyone's dick even if it is on the other's behalf.

Engaged

So I've sort of tracked our relationship on my blog.  In reality I've ignored my blog to participate in my relationship.

Charles and I met in June 2012 and in August 2013 we agreed to get married.  There was no big proposal or diamond ring or fancy dinner with flowers.  There was a discussion that lead to suggestions and a followup conversation when I announced I was ready to get married and he agreed.

Charles is in two words a good guy.  He had a heart of gold.  He's stable and self-sustaining.  He comes from a good family.  He was raised to respect women.  He treats me like I'm special and though we were a little nervous at first I am a firm believer that he is as nuts about me as I am about him.

When I said I wanted to get married and he agreed, I ran a little victory lap in my head.  I knew when we met I found a guy worth my time, energy and eventually love.  After our first date I ran to my mom and said, "Mom, I really like this guy.  It's like we're equals."  She nodded and continued her online bridge game.

Ever since, I've done everything I could to be right with him.  I have very carefully negotiated the course of having a good relationship.  I didn't get too clingy.  I was kind and rarely fizzed out.  I was honest and genuine with my affection.  Honesty is hard when you're in love with someone because you want them to see the best part of you, not the parts that smudge your credibility or make you potentially unstable.  I told him up front, that I have issues and baggage and I'm imperfect and he agreed to give it a shot.  He isn't perfect either, but in different ways that actually balance us out.

When I announced to my mom that we were getting married.  She was shocked.  She face-palmed and said, "Why would you ruin a perfectly good relationship by getting married?"  Then I announced his intention to take over the dogs and she said, "Sold."  A friend of mine gave me a bottle of champagne, the real stuff, from France.  I will give Mom a glass of it when we open it and that'll help get her on board even more.

I've planned most of the details so now we just have to wait until the actual date.  It is tempting to simply get it over with next week so we don't have to worry about all the unsolicited invitations and hurt feelings.

I see in us the ability to have the forever they say you should have when you're married.  We're crazy about each other and we have similar goals.  We enjoy being together.  We're good friends.  We respect each other's need to have a little space to breathe from time to time.  Mostly we're crazy about each other.  There are moments when I'm not sure I deserve him and then he makes a stupid joke and I figure my imperfections balance in the wash.

Table Manners

Over the last 10 days I have seen one person after another who I wanted to punch in the throat.  This entry is dedicated to all of you.

My boyfriend and I went to Threadgills a few nights ago.  It's home cookin' style restaurant.  It isn't fancy.  You go because you want heaping helpings of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and fried okra.  The food is consistantly good and most people can eat something there.  They are considerate of dietary needs.  The staff are pretty good.  It's a staple in my family.

Table Manner # 1:

If you're too country for Threadgills, you're too country. 

We were having a fine time when a server walked back to this table that was there before we were.  A discussion ensued about how they didn't know they were supposed to be seated by a host.  The server handled it well but my hackles raised when the woman took on an entitled attitude about it all.  They witnessed more than one table being seated by a hostess, mine included. They argued with the server.  They were loud and they threw something at me.

Table Manner # 2:

Don't throw things at other customers.

The first thing that came to mind is, get your ass back to the Waffle House.  

While I was in college the first time I worked at the Waffle House in Garland, TX.  It is what motivated me to run like hell from Dallas.  I was working with men and women I liked but who were in their thirties, making slightly more than minimum wage, driving beat up old cars that they drove into their gang-infested neighborhoods.  I worked the night shift because I was told I'd make more money. LIES.  

We had a full service all-you-can-eat.  I would actually serve up as many plates of greasy eggs, hash browns and waffles as the customers could shove into their drunken faces.  And if I was lucky for a table of four very hungry, very drunk, entitled assholes I would get $2. On a good night, after working 10 hours, I'd have $50 in tips. Even in 1993 that was pretty bad money.

I was molested by customers.  I developed a hellish case of plantar fasciatis. I couldn't keep up with my school work so school became expendable.  The people I worked with were strong, salt of the earth women, mostly who taught me how I was expected to work.  Their teaching methods were rather barbaric at times and they left a wound or two on my heart but every single one of them told me to grow up and get out of there.

I woke up one morning after a particularly painful break up and realized they were right. I would become one of those women if I stayed.  I moved to Austin a month later.  There was no Waffle House in Austin at the time so I was safe.  It wasn't my last food service gig and it certainly wasn't my last customer service gig, but the experience showed me a lot about how rude people can be.

A few days later my boyfriend and I went to Panera Bread.  One part delicious one part filled with yuppie scum who just stand in the middle of everything.  Panera Bread has a way of doing things.  Sometimes it's a bit confusing if you've never been there before but they will provide you with assistance.  Their staff were all lovely.

Table Manner # 3:

Do your best to follow the suggested instructions on how the restaurant manages traffic.

We were seated waiting for our food and there was this guy.  He was disgusting.  He was depositing his trash on other tables.  It didn't seem to bother him that on two separate occasions a member of their staff had to clean up after him.

Table Manner # 4:

No one should have to clean up after you.

When I was at the Waffle house I had to bus my tables and wash my dishes.  I had to wipe down the tables and do the standard clean up.  If your mess extends beyond your table, you have violated #4.  Do your best with your kids.  We understand kids can get messy, but it isn't the service's responsibility to sweep, mop and scrub a mess your child created.

Table Manner # 5:

Don't complicate things.  There are people waiting.

Yesterday was the final straw.  We went to Subway.  A family of five got in ahead of us.  I was about to climb over the counter I was so hungry.  We agreed to eat it in the store until we saw this family.  They did everything they could to slow the poor "sandwich artist" down.

Table Manner # 6:

If you can't afford to eat out, eat in.

The father announced they were to order their food in the cheapest manner possible.  All three children separately went to the bathroom so we had to wait for that.  We had to watch while they made two 12 - inch sandwiches into four 6 - inch sandwiches.  On the outside they seemed like normal, well mannered people, but on the inside they were trashy and cheap.

I told my boyfriend, "We're getting this to go."  I was not hungry enough to let any more people distract my dining experience.

My boyfriend leaned in and whispered to me, "Blog."

This is just as much about customer service as it is about being customers.  In all three restaurants the staff acted appropriately.  They acted as their employers would want them to act.  They made a good faith effort to make these people who were complicated, rude and entitled happy.  I would like to congratulate them on their good manners.

Just a few additions to the list and I will end my rant.

Table Manner # 7:

Always tip your server.  20% for good service, 15% for mediocre service and 10% for crappy service.  If they give you crappy service, speak to the manager but do not stiff your server.

Table Manner # 8:

Don't harass the wait staff over things outside their control.

Table Manner # 9:

Each table is money.  If you take up the table for longer than an hour when it's busy, tip accordingly.

And finally, Table Manner # 10:

Be patient.  There are violators of the list who are unfortunately ahead of you.

Moving on

This weekend I went and enjoyed a bit of nature.  No, really, there was actual pleasure and glee involved.

We went to this swimming hole in the middle-of-nowhere-Texas called Krause Springs.  I figured I was in a rental and it didn't matter how many miles I put on it.

I provided the swimmers with a less than graceful entrance.  I'm sure a few were amused.  My butt got torn up with some road rash where I slid over a less than smooth surface, but I still made it into the water with limited injury.

The water was 68 degrees Fahrenheit, so being flung into it abruptly was a huge shock to my system, but the job of adjusting to the water immediately was far better than the torture of inching my way in one slippery step at a time.

We stayed for a few hours and had a picnic lunch.  I got over my issues with things that live in the water except for a few times when my boyfriend teased me.  When something crawled over my foot I decided I'd had enough.  We ate, drank a beer that was oddly good and refreshing.  Shiner Ruby Red grapefruit beer is surprisingly good.  And that's coming from a non-beer-drinker.

When I got home I didn't see the truck with the guy who slashed up my car and only wondered briefly where he was.  Apparently he's gone now.  I haven't seen the truck since Saturday morning so I hope he was just here to visit.  Regrettably I won't be able to slather his truck with gay rights stickers but that's probably for the best.

I got my car back today and I'm happy to be back in it.  I got to drive a Volkswagen Beetle for 10 days and it was fun and cute and drove really well, but it wasn't my car.  I love my car.  It's not cute and doesn't handle as well, but it's mine.  Life is resuming some degree of normalcy.

Current State of Affairs

My car got keyed a few nights a go.  Actually someone took a knife to it and did $2,400 worth of damage.  5 panels have to be repainted and the glass on my hatchback has to be replaced. Someone thinks I'm scum.  He hates me and everything I represent.  I wonder if it's because I'm a liberal.  I wonder if he thinks I'm a lover of black men and homosexuals who kills babies in my spare time.  (Plug in a few racial slurs to derive what I believe he really said.)

On Facebook I left the following comment: 

To the person who keyed my car. FYI. I spent many hours helping to get President Obama reelected. I spent 60 hours the last 4 days of the campaign helping him win Florida. We won. Key that.

I got a lot of feedback from my friends.  I had to clarify this person does not represent all Republicans because he, I assume this is a man, is a vandal and a creep.  He may not even vote.  He's just too stupid to form a sophisticated opinion that doesn't include retaliation for free speech.

I parked next to a huge black truck with Oklahoma plates that night.  It had camo paint and a POW/MIA sticker on the back of it.  I joked with my mom that the truck was so big because he was compensating for something.  I don't know if it was him, but I'd never seen that truck before and the next morning this was done.  Now I see that truck in the parking lot and I don't quite know what to do.

I really don't want to start a fight with someone who drives a big truck with a POW/MIA sticker on it.  It's reasonable to conclude he has a gun.  If this person has moved to my complex then when I get my car back I have to wonder if it will just happen again.

We are moving in September but how many times does my car have to get slashed?  I feel like such a coward because there is nothing I can do to protect myself.  All I can do is hope he will do something for the office to tow him.  Retaliation would only cause this to happen again.

I admit it.  I'm afraid of wingnuts with guns and this guy has proven himself to be one.  He told me to shut up and I'm still a loudmouth online but I'm really concerned about what he'll do to my car.  I've never wanted to move more in my life than I do right now.

Indie Cred

Indie Cred is what my boyfriend refers to as the stuff that makes us cool.  We like independent entertainment.  We like to watch the movies at the arthouse theater.  We don't need to pay $100 for tickets to a concert when there is someone far more talented playing on East 6th street for $5 or free at Central Market.  We are open minded and therefore we have a high level of Indie Cred.

So I have to confess... For some reason I got the wild hair to watch the Twilight Saga.  There are spoilers.  If you still respect me enough to continue reading this you should know I have written the crux of the plot in the next paragraph.

For those of you who haven't read the books, it is about a vacant, nondescript teenage girl who has two beautiful and almost perfect men fall in love with her.  She has to choose between the beautiful and perfect Edward and the hulking hot-blooded man-flesh, Jacob.  She chooses Edward.

It took Stephanie Meyer 2,000 pages to tell the story.  Sure other stuff happens, but it's all centered around an awkward girl coming into her own with a vampire.

The reasons why this series of books sucks are:

1. It is written for teenage girls who want to feel like the main character.  I mean what girl doesn't want the choice of two incredibly hot men?  She claims to be tortured by it... NO.

2. It was written with Mormon values.  No one has sex before they're married.  In real life, she'd be doing both of them and asking for forgiveness if she got caught.  We were all in high school once and sure there were a few who hadn't had sex but by our senior year, those who could were fucking whenever they could regardless of the appropriateness.

3. This woman stretched out this stupidity for 4 books and made millions and millions of dollars.  I have to admit I actually read the books and paid for them.  I only realized with her 5th book, The Host, what a truly terrible writer she is.

So, having read the books and knowing how terrible the stories are I was compelled to watch all five movies.  I sat through them face-in-palm for a good bit of the time.  There wasn't even any guilty pleasure.  It was all bad.

When I confessed to my boyfriend I started with, "And you'll probably break up with me for this..."  He got alarmed because there I was in front of him and my best friend about to make a break-up worthy confession.  "I watched all 5 Twilight Saga movies."

As he sighed in relief my best friend announced she was going to break up with me.

So last night I started watching a Swedish murder mystery series I was into a few years ago.  There is one with subtitles and one done by the BBC that has a bit more glamour.  I told my boyfriend and he said it was Indie Cred First Aid.  I had to repair it.  So I'm prepared to watch Midnight's Children.  It's based on the book by Salman Rushdie.  It won the best Booker award of all time.  I even have the book but I think I can repair it with the movie.  If I don't feel cleansed I will find something else to purify my independent spirit.

Icelandic rambling

I discovered Sigur Ros because more than one person told me they sounded like another band I'm fond of, A Northern Chorus.  They are no longer with us.  I'm not sure why they broke up other than it's hard to have a band that has limited popularity in Canada.  I discovered them on Pandora years ago and bought up everything I could get.  So here is a good example of their work:

To be honest though, most of their work resembles this: 

Most of my friends like them.  But when one friend said, "They sound like a bland version of Sigur Ros," I had to check out Sigur Ros.  (Them's fightin' words...) I got my hands on their stuff and to be honest I hear a few similarities with some of their songs but they are two completely different bands.  Here is the song I think sounds most similar and it is also my favorite song of Sigur Ros'.

I heard Sigur Ros was going to be in town and I went on line and priced the tickets and was I said to myself, regrettably, no.  Then I swear the next day I was called to attend a focus group where I would be paid $175 cash to give my opinion about furniture stores.  That was dinner and a concert.


I told my friends I was going to see Sigur Ros and most of them gave me that look you give someone when they start speaking in tongues.  "Uh, they're an Icelandic band and I don't know what they're saying but they make a lot of pretty noises," was the best I could come up with.

If you've never heard them, they're hard to define in other terms. They have these beautiful songs that are equally powerful.  The song will be very complicated yet quiet and pretty and then all of a sudden they'll blow you away with this intense wall of sound.

Don't get them confused with shoegazers who were good for the wall of noise effect.  These guys know what they're doing.  They aren't accidentally using reverb to cover up their mistakes.

While only their drummer is classically trained they know how to play their instruments.  The guitarist and lead singer bows his guitar and the sound just rips through the room.  He sings in a falsetto so well that he was able to hit every single note for 2 hours.  I can't sing in a falsetto for half an hour at karaoke without cracking.  Of course I don't do it for a living either... and I maybe have more to drink before I go on stage than he does?  I don't know about that, but I know it usually takes a bit of alcohol to get me to sing in front of people.  Okay that's a lie.  I can do it sober too.

But I digress.


I saw Sigur Ros on Wednesday night with my boyfriend.  I've been to a lot of concerts and this one was easily the best.  At one point I turned to him and said, "That one song was worth the price of admission."

The price of admission was $96 for 2 people.  That does not include parking and snacks while at the Cedar Park Center.  I did not care for the venue.  The seats were terrible and they were uncomfortable at best.  In spite of that the show was phenomenal. I would even go back to that venue to see them play again.  My boyfriend's comment was that he was surprised by how much they could rock and well... yeah those guys can rock it pretty hard.

I think they're classified as post rock because they're Icelandic and there's a limited population of people who can understand what they're saying.  Literally... there are more people in Austin than there are in Iceland.

You know when you listen to classical music how it gives you a feel or imagery?  What this makes me feel is something akin to the more poetic elements of World War I which I know very little about.  But they use gas masks in more than one of their videos so perhaps that's where it comes from.  I just know if I did a little bit of research I could write a story about World War I and I'd have my sound track laid out.

I digress again.

Basically, if you have the opportunity to see these guys live they're worth it.  Their live show adds dimension and texture to their studio recordings.  I left wanting to hear more of their music.  I couldn't tell you the names of the songs they play because I don't speak Icelandic but I can tell you that I like almost all of their songs.  I love several of their songs and I walked out of that show feeling like staying out late and going to work tired would be worth it.

Team Effort

So we got my mom through a really intense surgery.  She's still recovering but after almost 4 weeks she's finally back home.  She's probably in better shape now than she was when she walked into the hospital the morning of her surgery. She's certainly excited that she's back in her unkempt home with her unkempt dogs and her television that I think she hugged.

I visited her twice a day while she was in skilled nursing.  The morning visit was just for a few minutes.  We'd discuss her activities for the day and then we'd see if we could negotiate her escape. There were a few days when we had to battle the stupidity of the staff but for the most part it was uneventful.

In the evenings I would visit with her for maybe an hour.  I realized that I needed something to do with my hands while I was there so I started to crochet.  I don't know what I'm crocheting beyond it will resemble a rectangle.  I can crochet straight lines. That can result in a scarf or a blanket or a pot holder, but that's pretty much it.

My boyfriend's mother teaches crochet. On Saturday I sat with her and we crocheted together.  It was really nice.  While he slept on her couch, she and I sat together and discussed my mom, ex-husbands and how wonderful my boyfriend really is to me.

When I saw Mom that evening I talked to her about it. She asked me if I would mind sitting with her for a few minutes each day like we did in the nursing home.  We could sit and discuss our day and life and love and new discoveries and the dogs.  I agreed to do it because I love my mom and I enjoy spending time with her.

I realized that dealing with my mom's mortality involves both of us.  It also involves my half-brother, who was very supportive of her especially. He offered to come and help and if it gets worse I may clean my carpets and take him up on it.  It also involved her best friend, her surly sister and what I like to refer to as "Team Austin."  They are a group of close friends who support both of us through this process.  You know who you are.  I appreciate everyone who has offered me words of comfort and encouragement while she has been handed this horrible illness to contend with.

She has to do the heavy lifting.  She is the one having the surgery and possibly the chemo therapy or the radiation, or not.  I am driving her to the appointments.  I visit with her daily to comfort not only her, but me too.

One day it felt like it was just me.  Then a friend showed up with fruit and flowers at the hospital.  I realized that every single bit of relief is priceless.  I will always remember the relief of seeing a caring face of a friend who took a few minutes out of her day to support me.  Those were 30 golden minutes.

I think going forward I want to offer that same relief to my friends.  I learned it's also my responsibility to be there for them when I can.  I commit to making a better effort in the future.  I promise to all my friends to actually show up or call or do whatever I can to give them a touch of the love they need to get through their tough times.

This process has involved a lot of stress.  I've lost a lot of sleep and used a lot of sick leave and through it all,  my friends have loved me.  Not all of them read my blog but to those who do, thank you for all you do.

The Wisdom to Know the Difference

If you don't know me personally I need to preface this entry with the statement that I panic a lot. It doesn't take much.  I don't cry.  I chew on things until they pass and either turn out to be less than imagined so I feel silly or more than I imagine so I feel unprepared.  Rarely do I find I have dedicated the appropriate amount of time and energy to a high-stress situation.  With age I'm getting better, but I'll eventually run out of time and I don't know if my heart can take it in 20 years.

My mom is going to have surgery on Friday to save her life.  It's the second time in six months.  Last time I said, "Let's wait until the new year before we have anymore drama okay?"  When she was complaining in November about her right side pain I assured her it was gas.  Our family doctor and I both said she should eat some yogurt.  In January she saw a specialist, had some scans and low and behold it's cancer.

I learned one very important lesson.

Freaking out solves nothing.

A few weeks ago we got one of the many scans back and it suggested Mom may have cancer in two places and my heart dropped again.  I had just recovered from the news of the initial diagnosis.  We knew she had it in her colon.  They said it was Stage 1 if this second spot wasn't cancer.  That's a pretty big 'IF'.

When she was diagnosed I went online and found everything I could about colon cancer.  They soften the edges for the casual reader.  They don't want to scare the piss out of you.  I needed the truth.  I read the medical practitioner section of the same website and had the piss scared out of me.  

I found out this is a coping mechanism.  If I know as much about something as I can, I can gain control over it.  HA!  I actually thought I could gain control over cancer.

I wanted so badly to go charging into each doctor's office and schedule my mom ahead of all the other patients.  I was so frustrated.  I just wanted to scream at everyone, "Don't you see what's happening?!"  When they have their own lives and trouble and other patients who are going through the exact same thing.

This second spot they found was the universe announcing I have exactly no control over this.  It took me sitting in my car in rush hour traffic on the way home that evening to realize there was nothing I could do.  She was going to see the doctor the following day and he would determine if the spot was worthy of further examination.  

On Thursday evening at 6:00 PM the only thing I have control over is myself and whether I listen to NPR or my iPod.  I have no control over traffic, the weather, the Republicans, North Korea or my mom's cancer.  

Once I realized that I relaxed and it was like the weight of the previous weeks had been released.  I accepted I have one job.  I am supposed to love her.  That's all I can do.  I can stand by her while she deals with this life threatening illness.  I can hold her hand while we talk to doctors about some really scary shit.  When she calls me with special requests I can get them for her.  

Most importantly I can take care of myself.  If I don't take care of myself I am of no use to either of us.  She will need me a lot more in the coming months than she does today.  

I know I'm not the first person to go through this.  I'm certainly not the last.  I know countless books, articles and seminars have been given on this topic, but if you're anything like me, you may need to get this information from more than one source.  My advice to anyone who is up against the wall with something that causes them to freak out is this:

1. Take a breath.  For real.  I snorted the last time someone told me to do it and when it worked I felt like an idiot so just do it.  (Repeat this as often as necessary.)  
2. If you have a friend who can help you through this, call them.  My mom's best friend always says "Don't borrow trouble" and "Sufficient are the troubles of today." Call that friend.
3. I never thought I'd say this but think of the Serenity Prayer.  Accept the things you can and cannot change and hopefully a relaxation exercise or two has given you the wisdom to know the difference.
4. Focus ONLY on the things you can control.  
5. Define your duties and be thorough.  All those articles you read about time management and organization matter now.  If you haven't read any of those articles and are as naturally disorganized as I am, take an hour to check out a few.
6. Let the rest of it go.  You have defined the things you can control.  Now go forth and control those things.  That should be sufficient to keep you busy.

So far the last 10 days have been MUCH easier.  I have been a better problem solver.  I have been a better employee because I am taking better care of myself.  I am actually taking care of my business, not just myself.  

An example of one thing I did was I cut off all my hair.  It was dried out and over-processed and it frustrated me. I went to a salon and told her to get rid of it all.  Now, instead of 15 minutes of begging my hair not to look awful, it takes me 12 seconds to get ready in the morning.  It was something I could control.  Now I don't have to worry about my hair.

It looks like my mom will be fine after the surgery.  My life will resume some sort of normal.  I hope.  I am hoping for a little bit of a break.  I am hoping for some time to hang out and enjoy the spring and spend time with my mom and love my boyfriend and my pets and do a good job at work with my new found skill of "self-care."  I've started volunteering at SafePlace.  I want to be able to help the women in our community who are affected by violence to live better lives.  

Now, going forward, I hope I remember I wrote this the next time I panic about something.

Pinback

Up until Friday night Pinback was one of my new favorite bands. I overcame my issues with crowds and eagerly waited for an hour and a half through what was either an ironically stupid or just plain stupid opening act.  They came on and I was really impressed because they almost sounded like their studio music.  It was pretty obvious they didn't know they needed to warm up their voices. Once they got into their set they quit missing notes and sounded like their studio albums.

About half way through the show I got tired of the people behind me dancing and hitting my back.  My boyfriend moved to shield me from them and the girl wedged herself into his space shoving us both to the side.  She was squealing and thrashing about excitedly and I decided I no longer wanted to be close to this obnoxious young woman.

I am trying to live a life dedicated to non-violence since I've become a volunteer at SafePlace, the local battered women's shelter.  I wanted to throat punch the girl for shoving us out of our spots.  She is the reason I avoid concerts because when I am at home or in my car listening to my music I rarely feel compelled to commit any act of violence.  I also get to listen to their cleaned up, studio sound without weather or stupid, ironically or otherwise, opening acts.

Because my friend texted me that she was at the show we decided to stay. The crowd wasn't so bad where we landed after being unceremoniously shoved out of our spots. I decided it was an opportunity for me and my boyfriend to hold hands and slow dance like we would've in high school.  Considering he makes me feel young again it was perfectly acceptable.

After the show we found my friend and went for coffee.  We agreed their songs sounded a lot alike but the encore was pretty good.  It was a pretty good show.  It was worth the price of admission.

I must add they no longer occupy a spot among my favorites though.  The song I've attached is one of my favorite songs. It is the best example of 75 songs that sound a lot alike.  Perhaps the lyrics are different but the tempo, sound and general feel of the songs are all the same.

Because their songs do mostly sound alike I've removed them from the upper echelons of my favorites.  They remain safely among the bands I am happy to hear though.  That's saying a lot because if Sting and the Indigo Girls knew I'd finally rejected them after many years I'm sure they would be disappointed.

Television, the gym and penises

I do not own a television.

When I got divorced I gave the television to my ex-husband in exchange for my cat.  I find her far more entertaining.

That isn't to say I don't watch television shows.  The Internet is a wonderful thing.  With Netflix and iTunes and Hulu I am able to stay up to date on all my favorite shows.  What I don't get are the ads or the bulk of senseless crap they're putting on television.  I spent hours in front of my television watching America's Next Top Model and Friends re-runs.  I also played Rockband on my Wii and that was a lot of fun.  I'd consider buying another television if it would come with a Wii and two self-sustaining teenagers to play with me.

For some reason we, as a nation, care about the Kardashians, probably more than the Obamas.  Ask a thousand people their thoughts on sequestration and ask the same group about Snooki's baby and I'm fairly certain you'll get more information about the baby.  As I've stated in at least one earlier post, my choices at the gym are MTV, Fox News or Telemundo and I don't speak Spanish.  I understand Stupid enough to know I should reconsider what machines I use.

Yesterday I was donating platelets which takes a few hours and I was subjected to what the staff wanted to watch.  It wasn't so bad.  They were watching Tron which I hadn't seen and didn't want to see bad enough to quit listening to my music.  Then came a commercial for my favorite hummus.  That's when I felt like an idiot.

Whenever discussing hummus, I've asked people if they've heard of that brand and they always say yes.  I don't think it's as bad as saying, "Have you heard of these things called 'Fritos' or 'Dr. Pepper' or 'apples'?"  I suppose it just made me feel a little daft.

I realize today all this does is make me seem a little disconnected from the rest of society which isn't so bad.  I'm neither one of those people who only watches wrestling in the neighboring trailer nor am I one of those people who only reads physics periodicals.  I listen to NPR when I feel I'm not informed enough and I read a lot.  I also use Facebook.

Saying I depend some on social networking may make me sound like fall into the trailer park category, so let me be clear, it does not mean I depend on the captioned pictures of kittens for my news.  It means I find some fairly interesting articles on random topics and I am entertained by them.

I found this gem a few days ago on Facebook: Interesting penis facts.  Now you too can be an expert on penises because you read an article about it on the internet.