Need a date?

OK, I haven't posted in awhile...I've been busy.....you know holidays and everything...stress at work, sitting in the dark pouting over things I cannot change....(What, you don't do that?)

Anyway, I have noticed lately that I have been getting these spam (I can only hope it's spam) emails trying to get me out on the dating scene.....You read that right, email that wants to match me up with someone local, "See pictures of local singles!"  But that's not what upsets me.  What upsets me is the fact that all of these email solicitations are for local SENIORS.....Well, I guess what SHOULD upset me is the fact that I am not single, so I shouldn't be looking for anyone, but REALLY now, do I have that much personal information out there that they know if I AM looking, I should be looking out for a hotty with a walker??

The one I got today declares " A Local Senior Single Wants to Join You This Holiday!!"  For What?? A bed bath?? Will I be clipping toenails??  Cleaning dentures?? Helping them feed themselves??  Do they know I am a nurse? 

OK OK I may be a little more touchy than I should be, but for crying out loud, I certainly don't consider myself a "Senior".  I don't get a senior discount yet.....that should count for something.  And where the heck WAS I online to become the target of these lovely invitations?  And why do they assume I am in need of a date?  I am a woman over 50, I guess I should be divorced or widowed at this point.....I can find my own dates thank you very much..... if I was single.... if I wanted to.....I think.....but I don't have to so I'm gonna stop thinking about it......I'll probably forget anyway, my memory isn't what it used to be.....

Yeah, you are right!

My daughters said "Mom!!" An 'ageless wild horse'??? What the hell does that mean???

 Hmmmmm.... when I said it out loud, I actually snort laughed again.  That does sound pretty stupid.  I was waxing poetic, I guess, and it didn't quite work. Especially since I am not anything close to a poet.  If you look at the post again, you will see that I did a strikethrough.  My point was, I don't feel old on the inside, I only look old on the outside.

Thanks girls for helping me keep it real, your mother can be pretty simple at times...but I guess I don't have to tell you that.

You Gotta Biga Facea

So, I am OK with getting older…..really I am. My essence, or spirit as I would believe, has no age. Inside this body that is no longer firm, elastic, or attractive to the common passerby, is an ageless wild horse…..(No, not an old gray mare, I SAID a wild horse.....) Thankfully no one is going to shoot me if I go lame. (At least no one under our current healthcare structure…)

But did I really have to buy that magnifying mirror at Costco?? It’s freaking big and magnifies 8 times the normal size. Did I really want to see every flaw in this face? My pores look like soup bowls, my skin has 23 different colors, my eyelids look like plastic bags that have carried around one too many apples, my nose is in the way of everything, and my crow’s feet look more like ostrich claws.

Well, of course the answer to that question is no, in fact, I got it for another gross reason. I got it cause I have to tweeze these stupid hairs off my chin….and neck….and jawline….I am thinking laser removal, but I have heard it doesn’t work on my type of non-pigmented hair….that’s gray hair for all of you that need a better description.

I don’t know, I spent a lot of years being overweight….. I couldn't get rid of the baby fat…..I mean my youngest is ONLY 23 years old. But now that I am down to an almost normal weight, I don’t have anything to go with it, except an old face…..8 times bigger than I imagined.

Is it too late to have everything lifted, trimmed, sucked, nipped, lowered, raised, plumped, botoxed, contoured, and bronzed to a healthy glow, or will I get more mileage out of the cool granny look? Maybe I should go for the mature and wise woman image, but I snort when I think of that. Snort laughing is not conducive to the mature and wise woman image. I am more the “Let’s go karaoke sober and see how many drunks we can convince that I am REALLY Dolly Parton’s cousin!” Snort….Snort… (No, it doesn’t take much to amuse me)

But if I did get everything “reconditioned”, what good would that do? Who’s gonna see it but me? Better yet, who’s gonna be INTERESTED in seeing it but me? Yes, I am married, but let’s just say that I could come home in a clown suit with my head shaved and the only reaction I would get would be “Anything interesting happen today?”

So, I’ll keep the mirror, soup bowl pores and all….at least I won’t have whiskers…..

Cool or Clod?

Since I have been writing this blog, I have become more and more unsettling to myself.  There was a time when I would have described me as: professional, unaffected by  pressure, determined, focused, and might I even add, a little cool.

I am now beginning to think, however, that it might be difficult for me to go through an entire day without drooling all over myself.  Professional has gone to lack of control, pressure keeps me in bed too late cause I don't want to face the day, determined has gone to I don't give a crap, what used to be focus is now the attention span of a 2 year old, and my cool factor has gone to clod factor.....

Two weeks ago, out on a call, I went to my car to get supplies to dress a wound.  It was 4 in the morning and I tossed my keys in the trunk as I was rummaging around, thinking that I needed to move a few things out when I had time....as I slammed my trunk, I immediately knew that my keys were still on the inside.   It wouldn't have been so bad if my car had been unlocked, I could of just popped the trunk from the inside, but I had locked my car on the way in to see my patient.  I almost NEVER lock my car....of COURSE I am going to do it when I leave the keys in the trunk.  This was the 3rd time since May that I have had to call my husband out of bed to come rescue me from my own stupid self.  He is such a patient man.....I can take credit for that.......I have tried him over and over again, and he just keeps coming back for more. I am not sure what the attraction is, but I am glad it works for him.  I don't even cook, for cryin out loud....All he said was "You know, you shouldn't put your keys in the trunk like that, it's very easy to lock them in there if you do."  Am I that oblivious to the obvious that he needs to tell me that???  Geez....One of the times he came to rescue me I thought I had locked my keys in the car.  I couldn't find them anywhere, it was dark, I couldn't see into the car, I had emptied out my bag and had come up with nothing.  When he came and unlocked the car, (hmmmm maybe I DO lock it more than I thought)...the keys were not on the inside either.  Another dumping of the bag found the keys buried in a crevice under my blood pressure cuff.  Sorry about that....but it was only a little after 11:00 that time.

As I look over my blogs, I see that I am grouchy, over-extended, rude, self-centered, vain, critical, insensitive......anyone want to stop me here?  Oh well..... and I'm not too bright either...as you will see in the following example.

I started bowling again recently after several years away and my right hand and ring finger have been stiff and sore.  I thought that it would work itself out, but last night, I decided that I would use some "herbal muscle massage" that contains capsaicin and menthol; kind of a potent Ben Gay, if you will. Capsaicin, as you will remember, is what makes chili peppers hot.  It burns, people.  However, I can eat very hot things, and believe me, if my insides can take it, why not my tough old hands?  So after the first application, I decided that the heat from the capsaicin and the cool from the menthol was not quite enough, so I applied a second coating.  I used it like a hand cream rather than a targeted topical medication to the areas that were painful.....Yeah, I know that wasn't too smart now.  Here's the weird thing though, it really didn't bother me until this morning when I was slathering body lotion on my legs and arms (I really need to drink more water to keep my skin in better condition, but I hate water)....I don't know if this act triggered an exothermic event, but my hands started to feel like they were on fire.  Now remember, this was the morning AFTER.... I took a shower, I had washed my hands a couple of times already...and then I rubbed my face....I was immediately blinded by pain and I couldn't open my right eye.....What the heck was going on here?  Well the eye got better after flushing, but my hands felt like they were being cooked from the inside out! For 2 hours, I had to keep running to the sink to wash my hands and run them under cold water for relief, and my right hand and finger are still stiff and sore!  Upon further investigation, (oh yeah, I don't follow directions very well either) you must, apparently, apply the capsaicin up to 4 times a day over a period of 1-3 weeks to get relief of stiff joints.....I think I'll pass for now....

I have decided that the only cool thing about me these days is my rosemary mint shampoo.....

I have no control whatsoever.....

"Why do you do these things to yourself?"  That is the plaintive cry from the man who has loved me for almost 4 decades.....The only thing I can say is .....I really don't know.  I have this thing that I do; I can't seem to sit calmly and let life happen.  I  have to pick at things until they bleed,  I have to look under the rock, try the odd food, sniff the disgusting bottle of strange stuff that has been left in the fridge at work, ask the question no one else wants to ask.....I just CANNOT let well enough alone.  I don't read directions (or follow them), I would rather figure it out myself.  I gotta touch it, mess with it, pull it apart, and then make myself crazy when I can't figure it out or put it back together.  I have to be the one to volunteer cause no one else is saying anything, even if I don't know the first thing about what I am taking on.  This can be particularly dangerous in the work setting.

This week I have to start a master's program in project management (which I should have started 2 weeks ago), organize a trip, memorize a speech for a toastmasters contest, work on a clinical report that is trying my very soul, and soothe frazzled nerves on my team while at the same time trying to figure out what exactly I need to know to soothe them.  For fun, I got back into a ladies league (bowling) on Tuesday nights.

You would think that with this type of personality, I would be some kind of  genius that has discovered something.....anything......new, but I haven't.....however, I do have a few good stories, and a lot of good friends. 

Being this way makes it extremely hard for me to quell my passions.  I think this comes under the heading of self-mastery....I struggle with that.

I have been like this my whole life.  If I hadn't made decisions early on about drinking, smoking, and other vices not good for the body or soul, I would have put myself in an early grave.  I would have overindulged in them all.  My mother used to say to me that I was "in love with being in love" when I was a teenager.  She was so very right....I was very much in love when I was a teenager!  Let me just say that I always took my daughters' "love interests" very seriously because I remember so vividly my own experiences as a young girl.  What I felt seared through me like a hot fire and burned into my heart to stay forever.......that's not an exaggeration....really.....and it wasn't all physical reaction, (OK, a lot of it was physical reaction...) but it was tangled up with adoration and all of those wonderful feelings we call love...... I'm STILL in love with being in love.  The men (plural, yes, I was, after all, in love with being in love!) I fell in love with were pretty fabulous, even though I was left with a badly broken heart on at least one occasion.....(To my children....you can now uncover your eyes and read on.)

I oftentimes am very aware of another part of me, the logical, common sense, moral, and ethical part of me, standing outside looking on in amazement and horror to the other part of me, the little child/bad girl part of me, the one that wants to run away, to indulge in things that are not allowed, to throw caution to the wind and envelope myself in every delightsome and pleasurable desire of which I can think. The logical, common sense, moral, and ethical self stands there being shocked and appalled at the thoughts that my child/bad girl self has devilishly conjured up in corporeal delight.  I almost cannot reconcile these two people, but they are both so very much me. 

For many years, I have had control, buried that rotten child and let the adult rule, but as of late, the child/bad girl has been trying to knock down the doors and escape, putting everything I have built over the years in disarray.  (Note to my children: just let it go, everything is fine, really...this is a blog...I can write what I want to, I'm just ruminating, it comes with age....R&R..... rheumatism and ruminating......).  I think this malady of introspection and extrovert is what keeps me intrigued in life, almost everything and everyone is interesting to me, I want to know about you and what you are.....and I will spill my guts about myself if you want to hear.

All I know is, I need the constant flow of energy that comes from everything around me.  I know it's a love song, but, I'm just like the Aerosmith title, "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing".

Walk softly or I'll hit you with my stick

I am in a really foul mood. I am not sure why.

While discussing something with my spouse today, I said:

Me: "I just don't want to be annoyed."

Him: "I don't think that is possible.....you have really been grouchy lately. Everything annoys you, including me."

Me:(Giving him the Death Stare) "I know."

Unfortunately, he is right........I admit it, I get on a tear, and I take it out on the people that don't deserve it because I can't take it out on the ones that do.

I don't even know why I am angry, I just am. (Well...not exactly true, I have some ideas...) I don't like it. It is hard to be pleasant when you feel like sluggin' everyone you talk to.

"Good morning! How are you?"

POW! Right in the kisser..... "Does THAT answer your stupid question?" How bad am I??

OK, I need to do some introspection and get this out of my system, but that is just annoying too. I don't care about touchy feely things when I am angry...Anger drives away the spirit, it drives away all good feelings; and I seem to wallow in it when it happens. Not a good thing, really....

Lots of times, I am not really angry, I am sad or upset or hurt, and these emotions manifest themselves as anger.......blah, blah, blah......who cares? I'm still mad and now I am annoying myself.

See what I mean? How does one extract themselves from a bad attitude? Don't bother giving me any advice, I don't want it. Don't say anything nice to me, I don't want to feel better. Leave me alone, I'll get over it eventually....... Remember Lon Chaney Jr. playing the werewolf? You know how he wanted to be locked up so he wouldn't hurt anyone? Yeah, that's how I need to be treated when I feel like this. The difference between him and me, however, is that I am not horrified at my transformation into a miserable creature; I would probably get pleasure out of biting your head off, BUT I have been conditioned in socially acceptable behavior. I will look at you and answer your questions civilly. I will not snarl or tell you that you are ignorant, nor will I engage in sarcastic response. (Sarcastic THOUGHT maybe, but not sarcastic response.) No need to make everyone around me feel as miserable as I do.....might want to but don't need to.

OK, positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts........Not working, not working, not working.....I'm just gonna let the werewolf out tonight.....I'll lock myself in.

It feels good on my tongue...

Lugubrious.........that is my word for today. It is one of my favorite words.......It feels good when I speak it....I like the way it sounds...it seems lazy and rolling as it comes off my tongue......

It's an adjective.......What does it mean? It means mournful...not JUST mournful, but mournful in an exaggerated way....forlorn, dismal, an affected loss.......

"Her inner pain showed through in the lugubrious expression on her face; it was pronounced by the slump of her shoulders, the agony in her eyes, and the tremor in her voice. There was no getting past the bittersweet memory of her lost love."

OOOOOO....maybe I should write a book around those sentences...Nah......love stories are boring.....too dramatic.....I would probably write the book in 2 sentences, the one above and this one:

"Her lifelong friend came to her side gently placing her hand upon her shoulder. Swiftly reaching up, she slapped her on the back of her head and said: 'Get OVER yourself would you! Geez...'"

THAT'S reality......

Do you know where my _____is/are?

Fill in the blank...........

• keys
• badge
• laptop
• stethoscope
• shoes
• GPS
• purse
• camera
• phone
• pager
• glasses (not usually; I really need them to see, so they are usually close by)

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, do not lecture me on how I should put things in the same place so that I know where they are when I need them. I know all about that, and I have done it. In fact, I put my badge by the door when I come home so I know where it is when I leave for work again.......at least when I REMEMBER to do that. I just have a lot of things roaming around in my head and when I put something down, it just doesn't register......I have to register it to remember......

The worst part is that I get soooo angry when I can't find something that it makes my head hurt. I have been known to throw things and yell......My husband used to say to the kids "Run!! Mom is on the warpath, she can't find something!" They said I did it when I cleaned the house too....I don't remember that....I choose not to remember that.......It's enough that I doubted my motherly instincts as it was, and that I have often felt that I fell short when raising my children....I don't want to add screaming for no good reason to my list of things about which to feel guilty....

I have gotten better, about the anger, not about losing things. Whenever I would get so mad that pets quivered in the corner and children hid under their beds and then I found the offending object, I would immediately feel terrible about being so angry. Then I would have to repent for being out of control, apologize to everybody, and take back the accusations that everyone was trying to make me go crazy by moving my stuff.......Now I realize that it was my dear sweet husband who has been trying to drive me crazy all of these years......It HAS to be him, he's the only one left in the house......I can say that because he never reads this blog. He doesn't read the blog because he is:

• not interested


• doesn't know what a blog is


• doesn't know where a blog might be


• not sure why we have a computer in the first place except to play Free Cell

So I can pretty much blame him and be safe.....unless one of the kids tells him, which I am sure they probably will, but I will deny it, and he will just shrug his shoulders and he STILL won't read the blog....Not that I really want him to read it......Here is the probable conversation if he did:

Me: "Well, what did you think?"

Him: "About what?

Me: "What do you mean about what? The blog, that's what!"

Him: "It was OK."

Me: "Just OK?"

Him: "Yeah, OK"

Me: "That's all you have to say?"

Him: "What do you want me to say?"

Me: "Well, I expected a little more than just OK."

Him: "OK, it was great."

Me: "Don't patronize me."

Him: "I don't know what to say, it was OK, it was great."

Me: "Thank you for your detailed review."

I have more of a critique for him when he gets his hair cut.

But back to losing things....I won't say that things actually get LOST, although I AM on my third GPS.....I have the holder for the last one, but the GPS itself is just gone. I really think it got lifted from my car when I was on call one night, but I probably should have locked the car before I ran off, and it's my own fault. Anytime something gets stolen, I think maybe the person that stole it may need it more than me...helps with the acceptance.

My car keys are the worst. I have to remember where they are EVERY SINGLE MORNING when I am getting ready to leave for work, but I aways find them, so lost wouldn't be the operative word, just mislaid, I guess.

I know that if I spent any time sitting in the car after I got home that they are probably in the ignition the next morning. That's almost 100% right; if I made a call, sent a text, tried to get myself together before going in, or just wanted to sit alone, I can almost guarantee that I will leave the keys in the ignition. One of these mornings my car will be gone (Please, Please, I need a new one!)

No one will look on my desk, or my dresser, or in my room in general.....for anything....I have to do that myself. No one wants to touch any of these sacred places or move paperwork because I will inevitably accuse someone of taking something.

I then start spouting the words of my mother (dreadful!)

Me: "Well, they just can't sprout legs and walk away!!!!"

OR, when I used to enlist help from children.

Them: "Mom! we can't find it!!"

Me: "Look with your eyes and not with your mouth!"

Of course, I always get the same question "Where did you have it last?" I just want to give them my laser of death look, because if I remembered what I did 30 seconds ago, I would be way ahead of myself on a daily basis.

I have lost interest in my iPhone, so now I will probably not know where it is most of the time and it will probably be dead more than charged. The worst part is that there was a time when I knew where EVERYTHING was in my house. I was able to keep it clean and orderly.

"Where's the black ladle?" "In the third drawer down on the right hand side beside the long wooden spoon." "Where is the furniture spray?" "In the cupboard above the washer on the second shelf next to the scrubbing bubbles." I haven't done a thorough house cleaning in so long that now I get asked "Where exactly is the living room?" "I don't know, It used to be on the right when you walked in the front door." It's DISTURBING...Everywhere around me I see evidence of my failure in something.

Now when I can't find something, I just sigh and go without it. (For the most part...I DO on occasion still yell and throw things...I am a passionate woman, what can I say?) If I lose my keys, I use the spare one, if I lose the GPS, I use my iPhone, If I lose the iPhone, I pull out the map, If I lose my badge, I get a new one, without FAIL, anything I replace turns up somewhere, eventually. (Except the GPS...the most expensive thing, of course).

Before I bought my iPhone, I had a Blackberry...I could not find the in-house charger ANYWHERE....I looked and looked and looked......I also could not find my car charger for the last lost GPS so I bought new ones.........TWO months after buying the iPhone, and having given up on the charger for the Blackberry, I found, plugged into a wall in my family room, IN PLAIN SIGHT, was my in-house charger for the Blackberry. You cannot convince me that someone was NOT messing with my head......and I have about 6 car and in-house chargers laying around for things I now cannot find.....I'm not even sure if I owned anything that could take a charge from them. (That is the subject of another blog....WHY does everything use a different type of charger?)

That whole list at the top?? I have lost them and found them at least 50 times a piece, but I still think someone is trying to gaslight me.....

Did I REALLY Do That?

Have you ever just made an interaction so uncomfortable that you wish the earth would fall away beneath your feet? You know, made it look like you were an idiot, a stalker, a Jerry Springer guest?

Me: "Hello! Quasimodo is the name? Oh! I see something on your back; can I straighten that out for you? Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was a hump...I mean, it looks fine, I hardly noticed...I had an aunt with a hump once....I LOVE that aunt....I LOVE your hump....I love YOU! Will you marry me?"

I mean, how do you get from hello to total meltdown in 30 seconds? How do you get from relatively intelligent to bumbling idiot in microseconds? The worst part is the person to which you have shown your ignorance walks away with a GREAT first impression.

Quasimodo: "Victor, I know we are friends, but could you please make sure I don't EVER see that person again, she is scary....and I KNOW scary!"

Now, add that to the fact that every time you see or talk to this person again, you become that same idiot over and over again so that now you are growing.....ad infinitum.......that first impression to a body of knowledge that makes you look like a total ass.....

And how do you fix it???? What I really want to say is, "You know, that isn't me....... really, I don't usually say things like that.....honestly,......I just got caught up in the moment.....ANYTHING to erase what happened and start all over again at hello.....hoping that I don't blow it all over again.....Maybe if I just say "Can we start all over again at hello?" that will work?

Life is interesting. These moments keep you humble....or humiliated.....take your pick.

What A Way To End The Day

Last night....

Kevin: "Mom-Mom?"

Me: "Yes, my baby?"

Kevin: "Can I lay with you?"

Me: "Of course! Come here."

Kevin: "Mom-Mom?"

Me: "Yes?"

Kevin: "You're beautiful."

May have to reconisder giving him that second Milky Way bar............

Bonding Moments.....

Alright......I am watching two of my grandsons for the next 3 days. No problem, right? Mom-mom and Pop-pop's house is a great place to stay! I do have toys and stuff, and a Wii...they love the Wii.... I raised 4 kids, I can do this....

Nathan is 5 and Kevin will be 4 on August 30th ....my little tow-headed babes, they are my joy.....let's hope it stays that way.

Not that I anticipate any difficult times, it's just that when my youngest child was a little girl, at the first sign of screaming over something, I would open my mouth and the older 3 would say "I know, give her what she wants." It was just easier, ya know? She turned out alright.....

So Mommy and Daddy are pulling out of the driveway and Kevin is crying.......Awww..... is he missing them already??

"What's the matter, buddy?'

"I want to watch the movie from the beginning." Nathan was watching Spiderman 3....

"I think we can do that." Give him what he wants..........So far so good.....

Failure to Fitness

OK, OK, OK, I really want to do this. I want to get healthy, I want to be fit....and I have come a long way, but NOW I have to put forth effort that is, quite frankly, making me wonder WHY I want those things.......I mean, I feel great, I get sick very seldom, I'm eating better (well, I have good days and bad)...and I can still walk around without assistance. I have good genes! Grandparents living into their mid to late 80's and parents in their 80s now! I can cover up most of the body flaws with the right types of clothes, and I will never be asked to grace the front of a fashion magazine.......So WHY do the words "Toning, Strengthening, and Cardio" fall off my tongue to the fitness trainer like butter off a hot knife?

I went for my fitness evaluation. Cardio, flexibility, strength, weight, BMI, the whole thing. He (that would be the trainer, we'll call him EB for privacy sake, E standing for 'evil') didn't give me a score, but, he said there was no pass or fail........How can NOT being able to do ONE push up NOT be failure??? I was, however, able to do quite a few crunches....(that was the sound of my body, not the actual sit-up thing.) They told me to come back a week later for my program......Why so long? Do they sit around a conference table and decide how they will inflict pain in the most efficient way? So I came back this past Friday. Really, don't you think I would have known better than to go for something like that on a day OTHER than Friday the 13th.......?

So I walk into the fitness center, which, let me just digress here a bit, is subsidized by my employer...we are encouraged to utilize it and make our lives healthier...the food they serve in the cafeteria has all gone "light" and for a while there was no chocolate in the vending machines......that had to have been a man's idea.....I think that practice ended when women looking for chocolate began roaming in packs.......

To EB I say: "You're not going to hurt me are you?" Now, I meant that as a joke, you know, just kidding around, icebreaker thing.............but, he HESITATED...oh, it was only a fraction of a second, but it was there. Then he said, "Well, you may be a little sore tomorrow." I should have bolted for the door that moment. Instead, I fought back tears as I changed into my new workout clothes. New clothes that just may have been a little more spandexy than I anticipated; however it does kind of hold everything in place. All I can say is, if you can't handle the spandex, get out of the fitness center....

So with a smile (did I detect a hint of cruel pleasure in his eyes?) EB asked me what my goals were. I wanted to say, "I would like to wake up tomorrow morning looking like Beyonce." but I thought that may sound a little crazy coming from a 56 year old white woman..... AND I wasn't sure if he would get it.....I mean after all, he HESITATED on that last attempt at humor. So, I kept it straight and told him that I would like to tone, strengthen, and improve my cardio function.

Next question: "Would you like an ENTIRE body workout? (Now I know there was some kind of devil's gleam in his eye!) Me: "Yes, I would like that!" Positive AND enthusiastic, I don't know, I think there was some kind of mojo going on here that comes on when there is the smell of spandex in the air, or maybe mine was so tight, the circulation to my brain had slowed.

So you know what, you have to warm up, and you warm up on your choice of cardio equipment. I made the mistake of letting EB choose my equipment. Would it be a treadmill or a bike? Oooooohhhhhh nnnnnoooo HE thinks I should do some time on an elliptical machine; was he concerned for low impact, or just plain evil? Did I not go through these same motions in the spinning class? The difference here is that I can monitor my heart rate on the equipment. EB tells me that if my heart rate gets over 165, to slow it down, and to come get him after I am warmed up. Well, 4 minutes in, my heart rate is 170 and my legs feel like jelly....... 4 minutes, folks, 4 minutes.....and I was going for 5. Isn't that just pitiful?? My regular warm up should be 20 minutes before doing the strength training.....Nothing like feeling defeated before I even begin.

The worst part, though, is I see EB sitting behind the desk 50 feet away. How am I going to walk over there?? How am I going to do anything else?? Do I fake a heart attack?? Would that be less embarrassing than crawling from the elliptical to the desk?? Seriously, my legs were buckling...it took everything I had to not fall when I was stepping off the stupid thing....... So, sucking it up, I put one foot in front of the other and begin the walk......with every other step I faltered, reaching down to grab the nearest piece of equipment hoping people wouldn't notice the old lady....in spandex....walking like a drunk......

Oh, but the best was yet to come. EB now would attach me to one piece of equipment after another starting with the press.......did he NOT know that my legs and thighs were pleading for mercy? The press.......at 60 pounds. Just to get ON the thing I had to bend my legs to my chest until I could rest my chin on my knees; how is that ever a graceful move?? "You should do 20 reps." After about 12, he reached over and pushed down on the weights with all his might as I pressed forward with my legs. "Why are you doing that?" I ask. "Well, you are stronger than I thought you were, we need to up the weight." I wondered very quickly if he would buy the fact that it was an accident if my foot came flying off that press and straight into his teeth.

And so it was, lower body, upper body, lower body, upper body, each piece of equipment born and conceived (in the minds of evil people) for working a different set of muscles. Muscles that have done nothing over the years but support and be cushioned by the various growing areas of fat that surround them.

Every new piece of equipment tormented me until I said, "I can't do any more!" This seemed to bring much pleasure to EB, for without fail, he would always come back with "You can do one more." after I would do one more he would say, "You can do one more." Never satisfied until I really could not do one more.

That is the secret, you see...I see all of you out there that know what I mean, nodding your head and getting that grin on your face. Muscle failure.....The conventional wisdom on strength training. You must work that muscle group to failure to attain success. Irony at its best, I would say. In other words, repeat that movement on that equipment until your body says, "UNCLE!" and will no longer respond to the will of the mind. How fun is that? So, I need to go from piece to piece working each muscle group until it is flaccid so that when I get up it looks like I need a wheelchair? My legs were still giving me intermittent moments of not knowing if they would support me or not.

By the way, where did that expression come from? "Uncle" Why do we cry "Uncle"? Sounds kind of creepy....I can think of a couple of creepy uncles I had.....

So, as I leave the Chamber of Horrors, EB says to me "Don't curse me out tomorrow." I am still trying to walk upright as I leave and am wondering when all those endorphins everyone always rhapsodizes over might be kicking in, and I think to myself, "Tomorrow? I want to call you every name in the book right now!" I fear tomorrow.....

I am convinced that Rodin was not inspired by Dante's "The Inferno" to create "The Gates of Hell", but, rather, saw a vision of the future and those subjected to personal trainers......

I was told that it takes 24 to 48 hours for muscles to recover, so I shouldn't do strength training but every other day. Well, it's been 3 days and my armpits still hurt. Who knew your armpits could hurt? My left thigh is still so sore that I am convinced that I ripped something. And I am supposed to do it all over again so I will be sore for ANOTHER 24-48 hours? That means I will be sore 4 days out of 7. Don't even try to convince me that it will get better, I don't believe it.

Now I remember why every piece of fitness equipment I have ever enthusiastically purchased at 3 in the morning on those infomercials ends up as another place to hang my spandex......

Spinnin' wheel got to go round....

Remember that Blood, Sweat, and Tears song "Spinnin' Wheel"???

What goes up must come down

Spinnin' wheel got to go 'round

Talkin' 'bout your troubles it's a cryin' sin

Ride a painted pony let the spinnin' wheel spin...

Well, I gotta say, the name of the group is apropos if associated with a spinning class. Course, when Blood, Sweat, and Tears was around, (this song came out in 1969, I think) there wasn't anything like spinning classes. Fitness was not "in" in those days (Jack LaLanne was WAY ahead of his time).....It would have been looked at as ridiculous to sit in a room and ride a top heavy one wheeled stationary bike until you wanted to throw up, while having an instructor urge you on to feel the pain and sweat like a pig. Back then, it was more like, light up a cigarette, fix a rum and Coke, and do a little Bugaloo (twist, jerk, whatever) (Holy Cow, I'm old).

I mean doesn't "spinning" sound like FUN? Didn't we all do that when we were kids? WEEEEEEEEEE, WE'RE SPINNING!! (Then throwing up sometimes) And wasn't riding a bike FUN??? Yeah! Let's see how fast I can go....then stick my head up in the air and feel the wind blow through my hair while I glide down the hills of my neighborhood........Please do not extrapolate those images and feelings out to what a spinning class may be............

Anyway, I bravely went to the class, not knowing exactly how it would play out.

I had heard of spinning and knew that it was a stationary bike on which the resistance can be adjusted so one may get the benefit of riding up and down hills and help power the cardio system in a nice workout.

The female instructor was fit....... muscular and tan, sculpted, toned, and enthusiastic....................Oh crap..................A happy sadist that wants me to be my best and to push myself hard so that I may have the benefit of health. What the heck had I been thinking???

So there sat the bikes, and all of these people that come every week..........Seriously, I was about 20 years older than the rest of them, surely I have an excuse to turn around and walk away?? There were 3 newbies, the other two were still younger than me, but in better shape. One I knew as a colleague and she was happy to see me there, but this lovely lady weighs.......... no exaggeration........probably 90 pounds soaking wet. She is a tiny little thing and perfectly proportioned, I need a big girl in there with me.......

Now let me just say that I have lost 90 pounds, so I have been feeling pretty good about myself, but again, as I got on that bike I was feeling fat, fat, fat...And the work-out clothes I was wearing? It was stuff I had before I lost the 90 pounds, so not only do I feel fat, I looked like I had been dumpster diving at Omar the tent-maker fashion house......

So we start...hip hop music blaring, instructor with her mic on telling us we were going to work it today, listen to our bodies, and push it hard...........I am in BIG trouble.

Did I say the class is 45 minutes long..............45 minutes of non-stop spinning..........the RPMs lighting up on the display before us so that we may see how hard we are working it? I don't think I have spent 45 minutes doing ANYTHING continuous in my ENTIRE life. I just don't have that kind of focus. For Pete's sake, I can't even watch an hour on television without having to get up and do something........what is going to happen here???

So, with my feet safely stationed in the pedals of the bike I begin to spin.........or at least I THINK I begin to spin.....the pedals won't move..............this will never do........wait, wait, forgot there was a lever to adjust the resistance.......I am assuming that the "minus" sign means less resistance, so down we go...... OK, now I can pedal, or spin , or whatever it is.

Rather than give a play by play of what happens next, just think of it as keeping the RPMs of the bike wheel between 80 and 110 at various degrees of resistance. We started out on a "flat" road (close your eyes and think you are outside enjoying the weather) to going up a 45 degree hill, to gliding downhill at an amazing pace......(when I went down hill riding bikes, I let gravity do it, not the pedals...)

The instructor telling us all the way when to:

"Notch it up a bit"

when to go down hill.......

when to go up hill............

when to stand up and pedal............

when to sit down and pedal..........

notch it up.........You should be at 90!!

notch it up.... Make it 100!!

notch it up..... 110!! Now come on it's DOWNHILL

WORK IT PEOPLE!!...... Its GOOD for you!

Does it SUCK to be you right now??? GOOD....... its GOOD for you!!

...............I think I got to 80 once..............without movin that knob one bit...............

The instructor wanted us to listen to our bodies......and I did......

The problem was that after about 5 minutes, my legs were saying:

"OK, that's enough....good job today girl, now relax and have a cookie."

After 20 minutes my legs were saying:

"You really need to stop, this is not pleasant and we are going to rebel shortly!"

After 30 minutes, the brain chimed in:

"Hey, what the heck? You trying to prove something here? The legs are done for crying out loud and do you see those spots in front of your eyes? That could be broken blood vessels for all I know, you don't want me to stroke out do you??"

But I prevailed................for 45 minutes I kept that wheel spinning..............Not at 110 not at 90, but I kept it spinning....

I never stood up and pedaled.........I tried once, but I couldn't make it happen......my body just laughed and laughed.....

Can I tell you what the worst thing was of the whole ordeal??? Not the pain, not the sweat, not the face that was flushed red from exertion, not the spots before my eyes, or the fear that my legs feeling like pieces of old rubber bands would give way when I finally took myself off that piece of torture equipment......it was the stinkin' seat on the bicycle...............

Why do they have to have those seats that split the permanent vertical smile like a sword?? And why do they have to have a mirror the full length of one wall so that if you turn and look you see that you hang on that seat like Baby Huey? You think my legs were talking to me??? You should have heard what my butt was screamin in my ear........

Not Memorable, Mom

My daughters did not like my last 2 blogs......."Not memorable, Mom." was my oldest's comment. I was taking them out to dinner, and when I asked them if they had read them, they just looked at each other and made faces........Stacie, (the oldest), said "Well there was something in there where you went off on a tangent that was somewhat OK." When I asked which part, she said "I don't know." and then made the comment above.

I then proceeded to spend money on them at dinner AND after dinner when Stacie felt the need to "look" at new makeup..........If nothing else, I can count on their honesty......Their biggest complaint was that I was in error when I said that I was the only one in the family that liked cucumbers. OK, I stand corrected........No one reads this darn thing anyway.......

Have Cucumber...Will Travel Part II

The list extolling the virtues of the cucumber are continued. I often wonder where these tests are done or who has enough time in their day to experiment with these type of things; I'm sure it is a degree at some AG college somewhere. I know we have plant physiologists etc etc, but is there a "Cucumber Institute", or maybe it is a sub-study of the "Vegetable Institute". Now wait a minute; is a cucumber a vegetable or a fruit? Fruit, I think? Anyway, here are the rest of the cucumber suggestions from the list.

#7. Looking to fight off that afternoon or evening snacking binge? Cucumbers have been used for centuries and often used by European trappers, traders and explorers for quick meals to thwart off starvation.

OK, the operative words here are "snacking binge". European trappers, traders, and explorers may have eaten them to "thwart off starvation", but I doubt had they had access to chips, ice cream, or even some beef jerky they would NOT have filled up on cucumbers. And why would I want to "fight off" a snacking binge? The whole idea of a binge is to wake up in a stupor to find your chest covered with crumbs (chips, cookies, sandwich, take your pick), chocolate on your lips, soda in one hand, and a spoon of half eaten peanut butter in the other. It's the "Lost Weekend" of the food addict.

#8. Have an important meeting or job interview and you realize that you don't have enough time to polish your shoes? Rub a freshly cut cucumber over the shoe, its chemicals will provide a quick and durable shine that not only looks great but also repels water.

I don't think women polish shoes. Do men still polish shoes? And is the important meeting or job interview a big surprise? I don't think I would be inclined to hire someone who was so unprepared for an interview that they totally forgot to polish their shoes....or maybe I would, I don't think I would notice unpolished shoes. Do you notice your shoes are unpolished only in the morning before the meeting or interview, or did you know you have been wearing scuffed up shoes for about 3 months? And how long does it take to polish a shoe? Is rubbing a cucumber slice over your shoes faster? Maybe I am missing the point? Should I choose polishing shoes with a cucumber over the traditional ? Maybe I should just have shoes that don't get polished......

#9. Out of WD 40 and need to fix a squeaky hinge? Take a cucumber slice and rub it along the problematic hinge, and voila, the squeak is gone!

Again, who thinks of doing this?? Let's see, I have a squeaky hinge.....in the kitchen I have Pam, vegetable oil, butter, but no WD 40...........Think I will go with a cucumber, that has GOT to work....Me? don't care about squeaky hinges, they give a house character.....

#10. Stressed out and don't have time for massage, facial or visit to the spa? Cut up an entire cucumber and place it in a boiling pot of water, the chemicals and nutrients from the cucumber will react with the boiling water and be released in the steam, creating a soothing, relaxing aroma that has been shown to reduce stress in new mothers and college students during final exams.

Mmmmmmmmm.........massage.....facial.....trip to spa.............wouldn't that be nice?? Never had a massage, had my first facial (and last, now that I think of it) when I was 54....heavenly.....my first pedicure at about 50, ....have to do that now, I have never been successful in getting my husband or any other family member to rub my feet, even though I have tried every bribe I can think of...no, that's not true, I think one of my progeny actually took money for it at times.... so I now pay for "Ricky" to be my cabana boy and give me regular spa pedicures. Well actually, I don't go to Ricky anymore because the salon was just not, well, I was afraid I would catch something there....but when I can, I get a man to do the pedicure. Their hands are stronger and... and... and...well, their hands are stronger.....but I digress.

I'm trying to figure out how a cucumber in a pot of boiling water will make me feel as good as a facial....and AGAIN, cucumbers do not give off a soothing relaxing fragrance. Wait a minute, let me go try it and see...... OK, here is the verdict..... no,... really,.... I actually did it! I just happened to have a fresh cucumber from the garden in my kitchen (7 pints of bread and butter pickles done today!) So I took one of the two I had left over and sliced it up. Of course, my husband asked me what I was doing, and just kind of shook his head.....BUT , he did make the comment that he smelled the cucumber as I was slicing it. He even said it was a little refreshing....(I don't think I have ever heard him say THAT before) And I will agree, the FRESH cuke FRESH from the garden did have a clean fresh smell as I sliced it, but definitely not a soothing relaxing fragrance. So, trying to be fair I boiled water and dropped the slices in. Went and sat in the family room to see if the anti-stress fragrance would waft around the house.....no luck....went back into the kitchen and stuck my head over the pot to see if it would at least be a good way to suck in the spa aroma and open up the pores of my face....no.....it actually smelled better when I cut it up fresh on the counter. Now, it just smelled like boiling water with soggy cucumber slices. Now, my question....it showed reduced stress in new mothers???? Did anyone take into account that when you did this test on new mothers that they were probably AWAY from their children in a room with nothing but a boiling pot of cucumbers? If I remember my young mother days (and I do!) if someone had asked me to participate in a test to see if my stress would be relived by boiling cucumbers, I would have leaped at the chance to get into a room by myself.....with a pot of ANYTHING. AND I would have told them to let me just sit there a few more minutes because I was SO refreshed and stress free by whatever it was boiling in the pot......or did they mean it relieved the stress of new mothers taking final exams?? As for THAT.......how exactly did that go down? I know getting a good laugh will reduce my stress. Coming into a classroom with a pot of boiling cucumbers during final exams would definitely give me a reason to giggle. And if the reason for the boiling cucumbers was announced I would definitely laugh; however, every student stressed because they had been out partying instead of studying would certainly be sucking in great gulps of air to calm their frazzled nerves hoping for, at the very least, a placebo effect.

#11. Just finish a business lunch and realize you don't have gum or mints? Take a slice of cucumber and press it to the roof of your mouth with your tongue for 30 seconds to eliminate bad breath, the phytochemcials will kill the bacteria in your mouth responsible for causing bad breath.

Wow....this is a good one! I don't have breath mints or gum in my purse or pocket, BUT, I have a baggie of cucumber slices!! How lucky am I that I didn't forget that this morning!!

# 12. Looking for a 'green' way to clean your faucets, sinks or stainless steel? Take a slice of cucumber and rub it on the surface you want to clean, not only will it remove years of tarnish and bring back the shine, but is won't leave streaks and won't harm you fingers or fingernails while you clean.

It may not harm my fingernails, but they will get torn off trying to clean with a slice of cucumber. This is another one I should try, jut to see, but I kind of like my tarnish,.....AND....If you have "years of tarnish" on stuff in your house, have you just been waiting for someone to tell you to use a cucumber, or do you really not give a flip?

OK there were 13 not 12......

# 13. Using a pen and made a mistake? Take the outside of the cucumber and slowly use it to erase the pen writing, also works great on crayons and markers that the kids have used to decorate the walls!!

I am now convinced that cucumber growers have created this list.....is the outside of a cucumber the peel? If it is, why not just say use cucumber peel as a pen eraser? Can I hold the entire cucumber like a pencil and use it as an eraser, or do I have to peel the cucumber and use said peel as an eraser? And why do I have to do it slowly, will it smear? Will I be able to write over the residue left by cucumber peel? I know... I should probably try it and then answer my own questions....

And, OK, my youngest daughter was an artist extraordinaire when she was a little girl. she didn't just draw on the walls, she scribbled murals at 3 years old, across the walls, the closets, the dressers, her bed, the floor. Forget paper, her medium was drywall and wood. I honestly thought we might have had someone in our family with artistic ability, but, no, she was just destructive.....I didn't bother with cucumber slices to erase her art work. The only thing that worked for me was primer and paint.

So there you have it. The wondrous cucumber and all of its miraculous uses. We have all seen those people with mud masks and cucumber slices on their eyes so there must be something based in reality; however, for me, I would like to leave my reality in the hands of a plastic surgeon for my wrinkles, Dow chemical for cleaning, and xanax for my stress.

Have Cucumber....Will Travel Part 1

OK, if you don't get the title to this post you are not old....or you are not a 60's television buff....

But ANYWAY, I recently got an email that excitedly proclaimed the wonderful uses of the ordinary cucumber. Yes, my friends, the simple cucumber that prolifically grows in home gardens around the world! The mighty cucumber.....Really?? When I was growing up, the cucumber was the one thing I could get my dad to make a face over. He hates cucumbers...... still does to this day, so do my husband and children. I, on the other hand, love cucumbers, so I was intrigued by this email on the powers of the cuke. So I am going to go over the list (there are 12 in the list I will do the first 6; the last 6 will have to come in the next episode) and you can tell me what you think. I, of course, will tell you what I think.

#1. Cucumbers contain most of the vitamins you need every day, just one cucumber contains Vitamin B1, Vitamin B2, Vitamin B3, Vitamin B5, Vitamin B6, Folic Acid, Vitamin C, Calcium, Iron, Magnesium, Phosphorus, Potassium and Zinc.

OK, What size cucumber are you talking here? They come in every shape and size. Fat with a lot of seeds? Skinny with more flesh? Long? Short? With or without the peel? That makes a big difference! (You know it's with the peel; I am ambivalent about cucumber peels....if it's that waxy junk from the store, no thanks, if it's fresh from the garden, OK, but ya really gotta scrub it.) If you don't like the peel, you have lost most of what it purports to be! And what variety of cucumber? ....Come on, you don't expect me to believe this do you? Who exactly measures the nutrients of a cucumber? There's a lot of water in it you know. Have you ever left a cucumber in the fridge so long it just disintegrates? Really nasty...It looks OK and then you reach for it and it squishes into a mess. Ever freeze a cucumber? Not good....

#2. Feeling tired in the afternoon, put down the caffeinated soda and pick up a cucumber. Cucumbers are a good source of B Vitamins and Carbohydrates that can provide that quick pick- me -up that can last for hours.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Give me a Snickers..........I'll live with the inevitable crash!

#3. Tired of your bathroom mirror fogging up after a shower? Try rubbing a cucumber slice along the mirror, it will eliminate the fog and provide a soothing, spa-like fragrance.

My bathroom mirror is huge.....I am a macro cleaner....big paper towels, lots of spray, and wide strokes of the arm.......Can you just see me holding a little slice of cucumber rubbing it across the surface of my mirror just to keep it from fogging? I don't want to see myself after a shower anyway...And sorry, one slice of cucumber will not make my bathroom smell like a spa.........Febreeze on steroids will not make my bathroom smell like a spa.....

#4. Are grubs and slugs ruining your planting beds? Place a few slices in a small pie tin and your garden will be free of pests all season long. The chemicals in the cucumber react with the aluminum to give off a scent undetectable to humans but drive garden pests crazy and make them flee the area.

OK, salt on the slugs, and it's a visible lesson in osmosis......plus, I don't think garden pests have noses.....

#5 Looking for a fast and easy way to remove cellulite before going out or to the pool? Try rubbing a slice or two of cucumbers along your problem area for a few minutes, the phytochemicals in the cucumber cause the collagen in your skin to tighten, firming up the outer layer and reducing the visibility of cellulite. Works great on wrinkles too!!!

I got nothing here.....I mean, really, rubbing cucumber slices on my cellulite?? First of all, no one that has enough cellulite to worry about should be wearing clothing that may expose it....In the case of a bathing suit, who cares? EVERYONE knows themselves well enough on this issue...you either:

• Look great and flaunt it
• Think you look great and flaunt it
• Look fat/thin/scrawny/too tan/blazing white/freckly/short/tall/bulgy and don't care
• NEVER wear a bathing suit because you don't want to make anyone go blind.

I think most of humanity fits in under the 3rd bullet point. I have spent a lifetime looking around and let's face it, there are no naturally living people that are 10's....The only scale that should be important to you is the one you have of yourself, I am about a 3, but my kids think I am somewhere between 7-10 depending on the day. (Well, not in a bathing suit....) That's good enough for me. How long can a cucumber scrub last anyway? You go in the pool looking tight and when you come out you got dimples from head to toe?? (And do men care about cellulite? Do they get cellulite? See?? We don't even notice! Many men can put on a speedo and strut around like the cock of the hen house! That would be bullet point 2.)

#6. Want to avoid a hangover or terrible headache? Eat a few cucumber slices before going to bed and wake up refreshed and headache free. Cucumbers contain enough sugar, B vitamins and electrolytes to replenish essential nutrients the body lost, keeping everything in equilibrium, avoiding both a hangover and headache!!

Yeah, right......I can see it now, stumbling into the kitchen to eat a cucumber after a night out partying. Who really wants a drunk to have a knife in their hand ready to slice up veggies to prevent a hangover/headache? And....Yumm, eating cucumbers on top of buffalo wings, beer, Mohitos, Margaritas, nachos, and chili...The only thing a cucumber might add is something to the color palette when it gets barfed up. If you are sober enough to slice and eat a cucumber after being out drinking, you won't have a hangover anyway.

Knowing these things doesn't change my attitude toward the simple cucumber, I will still eat it, but I won't smear it on my mirrors or my thighs, will not try to tighten up those wrinkles around my eyes (sleep, something that I have a hard time doing, helps more), use it as a room freshener or test it out to see if I can tie one on and not suffer the consequences. But I will keep these things in mind, just in case I get as bored as the person who put this list together did.

RIP Green Car......

So, I was on call this past Thursday night (Editors note: This happened May 20th, not last Thursday) when my car decided that it had had enough. It decided that it was comfortable in its "place of park" and refused to move. I arrived to see my last patient of the night and returned to my car at about 11:15 pm. Deciding that I would finish all my charting on the computer before driving home, I plugged in and started tapping away on all my patients. About 45 minutes in, all the lights in my car gave a sudden surge and then dimmed. It was enough for me to think "What the heck just happened?" Now, usually when I work on the computer in my car, the car is running because I am doing clean up work on whatever chart is up. Tonight, I had major notes to write because I had been going from one patient to the next without taking time to chart.

Anyway, I reached for the keys and tried to turn over the ignition. That awful sound of "clicktey click" and then nothing. What the heck had I done? That sound reminded me of starters going bad, but my first thought was that I had killed the battery because I had not had the car running while I had the computer running. NOT good.....it's midnight, and I'm not done charting either...OK, so what do I notice? Well, because I have been up 19 hours, the light of intelligence was dim. There was something going on in the car that was just not congruent with what I thought was the matter. Let's see, battery dead....battery dead....battery dead..... but something else was telling me differently. Finally it dawned on me! There were still dim lights on in the car! The clock light was on, when I opened the door the interior light came on, and the headlights were automatic when I tried to start the car......sooooooo what exactly does that mean??? Focus girl, you can figures this out!! Oh yeah, the battery must not be dead, or at least must not be all the way dead. Did I mention that I had rolled down my electric windows cause it was a beautiful night and the car was stuffy? Yeah, well, they wouldn't go up now. No sweat! I will sit here and wait for the battery to recharge.....Can I do that??? Don't I remember that if you give it a chance it will beef up again, or recharge from the alternator, or have a magic wire infuse it with juice or something? I will just sit tight. I am in a lighted parking lot, it is 12:15 am, and as long as I don't get a call, I will be alright. OK.....waiting.....waiting....waiting.... Have I ever mentioned that I have the patience of an ant? Let me try this again. Turn the ignition and HEY!!! it didn't clickity click .......it actually gave a little chug......before it died again with no sound at all. OK, OK, I will give it a LOT of time to do whatever it is it does to juice up again. I'll give it an HOUR...that ought to do it. Waiting......waiting......waiting......maybe 5 minutes will do it. Smaller chug to nothingness....OK. Someone is coming out of the facility....

Me: "Do you have jumper cables?" I ask.

Them: "Is your car not starting?"

Me: In thought: "No, I just really need to know if you have jumper cables, I'm taking a survey for Auto Digest."

Me: "Yeah, I think I need a jump."

Them: "Sorry, I don't have any, you may want to check inside to see if anyone may have some."

Me: In thought: "Go to ...."

Me: "OK, thank you , I will do that, have a good night."

No need for me to go inside...........If I am patient, this car will start....... 12:30, 12:40.......AGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Somebody SHOOT me! I don't want to call my husband. I am 25 miles away and it's early in the morning, and he is usually fast asleep by 10:00.......I call him anyway.

Me: "The car is dead."

Him: " Oh boy, you want me come and get you?"

Me: "No, no, I am going to go inside and see if anyone has some jumper cables." Translation; "Please come and get me, I'm tired and I want to go home. Car stuff is your thing...I just drive."

SOOOOOOO I go back into the facility...... mind you, I left the patient an hour and half ago and the shift has changed....

Me: "Can I get in, please?"

Them: "Why do you need to get in?"

Me: " I was just in seeing a patient and my car died and now I need to ask if anyone has jumper cables." Translation: Let me in or I will tear your head off your shoulders, I am just that grouchy....

Them: " I don't think anyone has any jumper cables. We don't usually let anyone in at this time of night. I don't remember you seeing any patient."

Me: In thought: "Go to ....!!"

Me: " I know, I have been out here for awhile. Can I just go through to security and ask if they have any cables?"

Them: "SIIIGGGHHH...I guess so."

Me: In thought: "Go To .... Now"

Me: "Thank you so much, I appreciate it!"

So I walk from the nursing home side allllllll the way to the assisted living side to the one lone security guard that has a walkie talkie.

Me: "Excuse me, can you tell me if there may be any jumper cables available anywhere on the site?"

Him: "Jumper Cables??"

Me: In Thought: "Why is this so freaking hard to understand???"

Me: "Yes, my car has died and I was wondering if you had any jumper cables." Which now that I think back, makes me think even if they had had them, who would have given me a jump? Certainly none on these guys!!!

Him: "Well, let me see if anyone knows."

He then proceeds to use his walkie talkie to page ONE guy........

Him: "Hey, Joe (or whatever his name was), do we have any jumper cables?"

Joe: "Jumper cables??"

Me: WAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

Him: "Yeah"

Joe: "I don't think so."

Him: "Sorry, we don't have any jumper cables."

Did I mention that both these guys had that cool Nigerian accent?? I don't think either one of them knew what jumper cables were......

So I walk allllllll the way back to the nursing home side.

Woman Who Didn't Want To Let Me In: "Did they have any?"

Me: In thought: "Bite Me!"

Me: " No, I'm afraid not."

Woman Who Didn't Want To Let Me In: "I didn't think so."

Me: Just keep walking or they will haul you away for murder......

So now it's after 1:00 in the morning and I call back husband, who had actually stayed up and had been waiting for me to come home before the first call.

Me: "Well, no one has any jumper cables."

Him: "You want me to come and get you?"

Me:"Well...."

Him: "Or do you want to call AAA?"

Me: ???????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why did I totally forget that I had AAA???? And WHY did husband let me go on a cable chase??? For crying out loud, let me call AAA.

So, since I couldn't find my AAA card, I wrote down the number, (which you really don't need, all you gotta do is give them your name.) and made the call.

Within 30 minutes, My Hero had arrived. He wanted me to put the car in neutral so he could push it back , but my car won't come out of park because you have to step on the brake to move it out of park, and the brakes are power brakes and with no power it doesn't engage, and.....well suffice it to say it stayed where it was. Thankfully the person that came out of the facility way back a long time ago when I first asked for jumper cables, had vacated the spot next to my car and My Hero's big truck just fit into the space to reach me. It took a few minutes, but it did start.

My Hero told me that the battery needed to be replaced.........Really??? Well now, I must look into that......

So, with my engine running, My Hero took off. I sat there just wanting the electrical juice to infuse to a steady state before I left. I put the car in reverse, backed up 6 feet, and it started sputtering and coughing like an 80 year old with bronchitis. Every time I eased off the gas, it would give a violent leap and cough.....definitely a death rattle.........My Hero was now a Big Fat Jerk for leaving me there without making sure that I could drive that car.....And I gave him 10 bucks!

I attempted to pull back into the safety of the parking spot, but to no avail......My 2000 hunter green Buick Regal, gave a shudder, a spit, and went peacefully to the Other Side....

I call back husband........

Me: "The car is dead."

Him: "What happened?"

Me: "Big Fat Jerk jumped car, car started, Big Fat Jerk left, car died"

Him: "I'll come and get you."

Me:" I'll be here."

So here I sit in the middle of the drive space at about 2 in the morning, waiting for husband to come and get me. At one point a car pulls AROUND me and flips his lights, as if I am sitting there on purpose....well, I am sitting there on purpose, but you know what I mean...he didn't even stop......Course, it could have been the sight of a wild-haired crazy-eyed blond, with smudges of 22 hour-old make up smeared across her face that scared the bejeebies out of him as the lights crossed my countenance that made him continue on without stopping......

So husband comes, sees the car in the middle of the road and says we can't leave the car there. Solution??? We need to call AAA again. Now it's about 2:30 in the morning. Another call to AAA brings My Hero #2 out to the facility with a flat bed. I'm sitting in husbands truck...I don't care if I ever see the car again.......I just want to go home. Hero # 2 follows us home with the car. Another 10 bucks to Hero# 2. Now it's 3:30 in the morning, I have been up for 23 hours, (no problem, I am good for 36, I just talk funny.)

So how do I end this? Just saying "I went to bed." seems anticlimactic. Oh! I know! I will tell you what the mechanic said when husband took it in for repair....

Along with its other ailments, a tie rod that was almost shot was ready to break and could have sent me, as the mechanic put it, "out of control into a crash and a fiery death." After putting this on FaceBook, this comment was made:

"Cool! Given the choice, I'd rather have words like "out of control" and "fiery death" in my obituary than "injuries related to rolling off the couch while watching TV."

I love that perspective!!!

Walk a mile in my shoes....

I came upstairs with my arms full and said to my companion "I picked up 7 pairs of shoes by the front door!". He said to me, "Yea, well did you go into the family room yet?" Hmmmm...Did I mention all 7 pairs of shoes were mine? They usually don't get far from the front door cause they are the first things that come off when I walk in at night.

You are talking to a woman who used to have 2 pairs of shoes..... 2 pairs of $5.00 shoes. Shoes to go outside in and shoes to go to work in. I had to take care of them and know where I put them casue there were no substitutes. I can remember going through the house saying "Do you know where my shoes are??" Hmmmm.....I may still do that....

I wouldn't buy shoes that were not cheap, and I must admit, my poor dogs paid the price.

Just a little side question before I go on...Is it 2 pairs of shoes or 2 pair of shoes (or 2 pairs of shoe) ??

Back in our poor days, living on military pay and my outstanding $2.00 an hour pay,

(Yes. I said $2.00 an hour...and I ran the office, took DICTATION, TYPED on a TYPEWRITER without the glorious disappearing backspace or spell check, kept the books, and everything else that needed to be done WITHOUT the help of anything digital, computerized, or instant, I even balanced the bosses checkbook! He used to say "If you get it within a $100.00, I'm happy." Do you have any idea what $100.00 was to me in 1973?? I was afraid to be out by 5 cents cause I could take it down to the penny some weeks. OK, off track....)

I would buy nothing but the bare necessities. I knew the difference between a need and a want. I needed some things, I wanted a lot of things; I didn't get my wants, and my needs were barely met, but I was happy! No one else I knew had anything either, and there was far less to covet then than there is now. So shoes were a necessity, but a lot of shoes were not a necessity. Like I said, 1 pair for outside and 1 pair for work, and barefoot the rest of the time. It was hot in Florida, I didn't need shoes unless I was going to be where the critters would bite me.

It took me 20 years to realize that I could have more shoes and they didn't have to be $5.00 shoes. When I was in my forties, I finally decided to have ingrown toenails removed on both my big toes. For years I suffered with shoes that hurt my feet and toes that were so tender, I couldn't bear to touch them. Then one day I realized I could get that fixed. Why didn't I realize it before?? Who knows, I just thought having ingrown toenails removed was a want and not a need. So for the first time, I didn't have pain in my toes when I walked, and now I could buy some shoes.

It started out innocently enough. I bought a black pair of shoes, cause black shoes are sensible and go with everything. Then a pair of beige shoes, cause in the summer beige shoes are better than black shoes..... Guess what, the world did not come to a screeching halt because I spent some money on myself. I was a little intoxicated with the fact that no one told me I was a bad mother or wife because I was wearing TWO DIFFERENT pairs (of pair) of shoes in one week. Then, like most things that feel nice and start out innocently, it became a bit obsessive. To buy or not to buy? Know what BOGO is? Oh yeah, buy one get one half price......So I will get 2 pair. I mean I'm saving money right??? Well if I buy 2, why not 4?? That's like getting a free pair of shoes! That means that 6 pair must be even better!!

Slings and heels, pumps and peek-a-boo toes, flip flops, sandals, sneakers, flats, stuff to match clothes, stuff to match purses, summer colors, winter colors. Now what I used to not even see when I went into a store seemed to jump out at me and say "Take me home, you know you love me!"

What happened, however, was that my feet still hurt. I began to believe that it didn't matter what type of shoe I wore, it hurt me. I would always buy wide shoes.....And then one day it dawned on me, I saw it, I looked at my feet........I had odd feet, REALLY odd feet. Now while I could always find what I thought was comfortable in a wide shoe, I noticed that my feet were freakishly wide, really wide, like, people I got man feet. EWWWWW how wide are these dogs for crying out loud???

Never fear! In the day of instant information, I found a place.......a heavenly place......a place for shoes that go to 4E width. I bought a pair of winter boots that, oooolala, look good on me and do not make me walk like a cripple at the end of the day. Red pumps....Oh, how I love my red shoes! I only wear them with certain things, but people notice my red shoes. Shooties that look like snake skin...yummy looking with those spike heels! And, guess what? I actually went down a half size, because now, my big fat wide feet spread across instead of lengthwise. The price? Well let's just say that when you have wide feet (or narrow feet for that matter.....my mother-in-law wore a 12 AA, she understood the meaning of special shoes) that you need to pay a special price. $5.00 dollars has turned into $50.00 minimum on up to....well, you can pay a lot for good quality shoes. I try to wait for the clearance sales. If you were to look in my closet, you would see that I really am not as bad as some women; for me, it seems excessive, to others I may be just a beginner, I won't go over that bridge to the sex-in-the-city-girl expensive shoes, I have not evolved that far, I have grandchildren you know....But I don't want anyone questioning my grandmotherly skills because I like to wear sexy shoes. (And good shoes, not sensible shoes BTW, can make you feel sexy, you know.)

So, I went into the family room....6 more pairs of shoes.... dining room, 1 more pair....living room.....Ah! Shoe-free zone!...... and as I sit here at my desk, I count 3 more pair under it. Well, at least I won't be asking where my shoes are....I may ask where my blue flip-flops that match my new shirt are...but I can always substitute.

Turkey Necks...

So, I was sitting at lunch with my friends today, all of us about the same age, and we were talking about turkey necks....You know, that neck thing you get when you get older, and the one thing they can't seem to fix with plastic surgery. You know, your neck is a little saggy, a little wrinkled, looks like a.....well, it looks like a turkey neck. The comments were around why can't we do something for it?? You know, we could make a lot of money if we could figure a way to fix it.

Then one of my friends said something like this.."I hate that no one says 'you don't look your age' anymore, or 'Gee, you CAN'T have kids that age' or 'You look good for your age'. She followed with something like this.. "I hate that I want to do so much and I feel that I don't have the time anymore. I can see my limited time left just ticking down." It stopped me right in my tracks.....

First of all, my friend looks great "for her age"!! I think she is attractive. She has a quick mind and a great sense of humor. She is a great conversationalist, and fun to be around; but as we continued the conversation, I was dismayed that she and my other mature friend thought that they were invisible to the world, that they are not noticed because they are older and perceived to be uninteresting. Well that may be true in the world's eye, but....

I couldn't disagree more.

I gotta say the most interesting people I know are in my age range. That's not to say that younger people are not interesting, they are, but in a different way. I find them to be interesting because they are finding their way, sorting through decisions of life, parenthood, relationships, and work. I like their perspectives and I like hearing their hopes and how they deal with the bumps in their life. Happily, I find that they are, in many cases, better equipped than I ever was when I was a young wife and mother.

I like to, and I do, surround myself with people of all ages. I especially love children because they see heart to heart rather than face to face. If I want an honest opinion, I ask a child. They will always tell me the truth. Case in point, my grandson Luke, told his mother the following:

Luke: "Mommy, I'm all done being patient"

Jessica: "What are you talking about, Luke."

Luke: "I'm talking about being all done being patient with all your yucky dinners."

Refreshing, isn't it? Let me just say that Jessica does not make yucky dinners, but if she did, I would remain patient. I can remember when my children were young they used to look into my face and say "Mommy, you look like a movie star." Then half hour later, "I can't see around you mommy, your bottom is too big." It's all about balance, I guess.

But for sheer breadth of life experience, I find those that are my age and older bring a perspective to conversation that I enjoy. Sometimes words are not even necessary, a look will tell a story. We don't rely on our physical prowess or our good looks to try and impress, (yeah, I know, because it doesn't work anymore) but NOW, we can say something with confidence, and people will believe us, even if it is a crock. Our sense of humor is a little more twisted, and even if our shoulders are a little more bent, they hold sorrows much better. We have been seasoned with the salt of life and infused with the flavorful juices of experience. Some of us have turned out yucky, to use my grandsons word, but more have turned out delightfully delicious.

But I still want to do something about my turkey neck.

The whole world at my fingertips!

I have a new phone. I finally got an iPhone. I have been wanting one since my youngest showed me hers. I have been playing with this phone for the last 2 days, and I can't seem to put it down.

Not so unusual you say? Well, considering I used to leave my phone sitting around until it was dead, not knowing where it was, and looking frantically for it when I was about to go on call, I would say that this is a change. Before I took the jump to the iPhone, I had begun using my Blackberry more, and getting to be lighting fast with a text message. I carried it around on my hip like a sheriff carries his .44. I am officially the geek of which I used to make fun.

I could never understand why people walked around with their eyes down into their palms, missing out on what was going on around them and laughing to themselves like they were part of some cosmic joke. Heaven help me I caught myself doing it!!!

I will say this; I am not too comfortable being this involved with my phone. When I do look up, I see that I have missed some things. I am almost always working from a list of things to do. My list has dust on it and my personal projects and work projects have been laying idle. My new ideas are sitting in my brain veiled behind new apps that I just have to have. But really, isn't this supposed to help us work smarter, not harder?? I do love some of the applications that make life easier, but do I REALLY need mobile Facebook?? (I have it) Do I REALLY need my email to my phone?? (I have it) Do I REALLY need Skype? (Oh yes, have it)

Need to get back to my garden, my interface with real people, and my never ending What Next? list. BTW, my what next includes a new foundation and nurse networking group for community health. Been trying to work on that for 3 years now, just need to put it together. So hopefully, this new iphone will support those things rather than keep me drooling into the virtual keyboard.

With every new technology comes potential for greater good or greater slavery to the tool.

Hey, I just found an app on how to hypnotize, oooo.....there's a whole category on medicine, and look at this! A productivity category........Oops, a little bit of drool goin on.....!

Choose ye this day.............

Sometimes I wish that I didn't have agency. Agency to choose for myself. I sometimes wish that my decisions could be made for me and that I could avoid the consequence of making poor or incorrect choices. I sometimes wish that. However, in my heart of hearts, I know without a doubt that that is wrong. What is life without the ability to choose for yourself? Some will try and tell you that there are those in the world that do not have the ability to choose, but I disagree. Even those that have had the most basic of life's decisions taken away from their control still have the ultimate choice. I remember reading a story of a person that had been in a concentration camp and they brought up this very tenent. He (or she, I cant remember) made the point that the only thing the camp could not take from him/her was the choice to be who they were, what they would choose to think, how they would choose to react, what they would choose to say. Very powerful lesson.

Sometimes I choose poorly. (Makes me think of Indiana Jones) Sometimes I choose more wisely. (Definitely Indiana Jones now) But the whole point of choice is progression. An egg without a little bit of heat added to it is not particularly appetizing. It is still healthy, but it hasn't met its potential.

I guess what I really wish is that choices were easy. I want the potential of the egg without the heat. I don't want to make decisions between 2 things that are equally good and desirable but are mutually exclusive in attaining. I don't want consequence. But not wanting that does not take away facing the reality that I must make the choice. Maybe the bigger the choice the bigger the growth that comes from it. I can only hope.

Decision today? Not facing the big ones yet, but I did decide to have a piece of danish over cottage cheese....I think that was a poor choice......the only growth that comes from that is in my hips.

So where do I go from here??

You ever feel like you are at the end of a road and you're are not really sure which way to go? I am antsy, I need a change, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it is I want.

I believe that staying the same is not a choice. We move either forward or backward, but you cannot stay in the same place. What is the point? Comfort? Familiarity? I hear a lot of talk in my ever changing choice of profession that we have to move out of our comfort zone and embrace new ways of working. (Translation: Get with the program or move on.) We also have to do that in our lives. Move out of the comfort zone, get out there and do something!! Pick something in your life and improve it, change it, break it open and see what new level you can reach. In order to do that, however, risk is involved, and, let's face it, taking risk when you absolutely do not have to, is pretty scary.

Life-altering change can be positive OR negative. The problem with life-altering change is that it is not something that affects just one person. Life-altering change can take in its tidal wave your family, your friends, your reputation and your future. When that is in the positive flow, it can be one of the the most rewarding events in your life. Not so much in the negative flow. When it is selfishly considered it is destructive. We live in a time when it is acceptable to think only of yourself and do what is right for ME. In reality, that has never been the right choice. You can see the litter of broken hearts, broken promises, irreparable rifts in love and affection, bewildered children, and painful regret throughout our society.

The best change comes when you take steps to improve what you have, to devote yourself entirely to going forward in change that will bolster and underscore what is good about a relationship, a job, a philosophy. I don't and never will promote staying in those places that have a destructive element whether in the home or outside the home, but we so easily give up on things when it becomes difficult, or when you think something far far better has come along. If we focus outward instead of inward we will become more willing to be unselfish, to be more responsible, more able to see what we can contribute to the betterment of individuals, families, and community. We won't leave the aforementioned litter in our lives.

I don't want to sound like a martyr, I firmly believe we should seek the things that bring us joy; however, it should be done within the proper bounds; bounds that we have set as we have moved through life's decisions. Bounds that are drawn by our beliefs and value sytems. Sacrifice of ones own selfish desires is good when put in that perspective. To quote a hymn, "sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven".

So, it looks like I have come full circle. I want a change, I need a change. Life-altering change? Only if it promotes what is good in my life. Sacrifice change? If it brings happiness to those around me. What thing shall I break open in order to have meaningful change? Still teetering on a rock about that one.

It's The Little Things That Count............

I just can't believe what this week has been. I guess the best word to describe it would be frustrating........incredibly frustrating........ just really, really frustrating.......Did I say I have been feeling frustrated??

Work has not been a happy place for me as of late, suffice it to say that I feel incompetant, lost, out of my league, old, useless, and dare I say it?.......frustrated. However, work situation aside, it's the little things that have made me so angry that it takes every ounce of control I have not to expolde into a million pieces.

Lets' start with Tuesday night, I came home and went straight upstairs, no side trip anywhere, straight upstairs and dropped off my stuff in the office, I didn't talk, I just started cleaning my bedroom because I had had another bad day. Wednesday morning trying to leave for work, I could NOT find my car keys or my badge. As my mother used to say, "Stuff just doesn't sprout legs and walk away!" Well, I think this time the impossible happened.........Somewhere there is a set of keys walking around on primordial legs.

Wednesday..............As I am driving to work with borrowed keys and no badge, I notice that it sounds like a window is down somewhere in the car, but pressing all of the close window buttons produces no change. I then think that maybe my door is ajar, so I open and close the door while I am driving...No change. I then see that my driver side window is open just a sliver. Press the close window...no change... push up with my free hand, no change..roll down a bit and try to roll up, now it's stuck open even further. OK, nothing I can do until I get to work. I pull up in front of the visitor's entry and go in to get a temporary ID and I get scolded by the security people becuse I have not as yet gotten a new badge that has been required for about a year now. When I come back to the car, I try to lift the window up into place while pushing the up button which immediately let's the window fall into the door with no hope of ever seeing it rise again. Now I am driving with the window down all of the way....sigh.....It's not even 7:00 a.m.

I have a hair appointment during my lunch break. I haven't had my hair done since before Christmas, and it is looking.......well, it's not looking so good.... When I arrive at the salon, I do not see my hairdresser, David. He is always on time and usually early when he works. As my appointment time comes and then slips by, I am approached by Erin at the shop telling me that the salon made an error and that David is not in today.........sigh........

Wednesday night.........I will be out of the office on Thursday and I need to work on a project plan that is due Friday. I work until 2am and then get up at 6:00 to catch the 7:24 train to Philadelphia. The project plan still needs last minute work...........

Thursday.............I am tired, and the last words my dear, sweet husband say to me as I leave are "It's going to be warm day today, don't forget your jacket when you come home." My leather jacket.............my really nice leather jacket...............that I got for Christmas............the leather jacket that looks really good....................As I board the train to come home, I realize that I am not wearing my leather jacket............

Friday..............I can't find the my IPod.......I had it on the train last night..........I have a box of Easter goodies for my grandsons in Indiana that have been ready for boxing and mailing for over a week. I never get anything to those boys on time. I was ready this time..........except I didn't mail them. OK, I will take them to work and have them sent overnight. I walk down to the mailing center , but I don't know the zipcode for Kokomo, and the mailing center does not take debit cards for payment. I leave the box there and go to the ATM that I always use at work around the corner and it is out of order............I now must find another ATM on this massive campus....I walk over the pedestrian bridge and down 2 floors and decide that I will not need more than $20.00 to send this package; (we get a discount on fed-ex)....... Back to the maling center, and the cost for a Saturday delivery is $26.09.......sigh.........I had a one-dollar bill in my wallet over the 20 that I got out of the ATM. So, I give her $5.09 in change............(I think the sigh came from the mail center on this one).

OK, I am not too sure what else will happen today or this weekend. My keys are still missing. my IPod is still missing, my leather jacket may still be in Philadelphia, BUT, as I am writing this sad tale, I realize that I have left out some little things................You know, those little things that count.

Here goes.........I may feel old and useless, but my family loves me.......just the way I am.....with all my faults, with all my sorted frustrations and anger. They know me, and they still love me. I would say that is worth something..............

I did find my badge! (After I finally got into the office that morning.) It was in the suitcase of a purse I carry around and I will make arrangements to get a new badge made.............. Who wants a 10 year old picture on their ID anyway?? No matter how much younger I looked, it's still out of date.......

The rain we had been having for several days was over when the window broke. The inside of my car stayed dry! Also, Wayne fixed the window in the car. Because I had to work in Philly on Thursday, I took the train, and he was able to get it fixed for me. He did it himself, which saved money!

The hair salon was so nice to me after they made the scheduling mistake; they are always nice, but they felt terrible. That's why I couldn't be mad. Erin was so sweet and offered a half-price manicure. David called me and explained things. Margie called me that evening apologizing again for the mix-up. They couldn't have been kinder. I have an appointment for next Wednesday. It's just hair, and I only drove a few minutes down the street from the office to the salon; had I come from home, it would have been an hour's drive round trip.

The office I was working from at UPenn is sending my leather jacket to me via fed-ex. At least I didn't leave it in the sandwich shop when I went to lunch, it would have ben gone forever.

I had good company on the train with my work pal.

When I was looking for a working ATM, a kind woman from the cafeteria overheard that I was going to walk to another building to find an ATM. She told me there was a closer one just across the pedestrian bridge..She didn't have to do that, she could have ignored me. Thank you....Another person actually walked me to the ATM to show me where it was when I asked. He didn't have to do that......... Thank you.....

I keep a change jug at home. For about 3 weeks, I have been meaning to put all of the loose change I have been lugging around into that jug. I thought about it last night and again this morning. Thanks goodness I didn't.....had I done that, I would have been making another trip to the ATM insead of paying the balance of the fed-ex charge in quarters, dimes, nickles, and pennies.........

My grandsons (and new granddaughter) will get their Easter goodies on time.............

Last, but certainly not least (nor a little thing)................this is Easter Weekend. The weather is going to be glorious, and the hope and promise of this celebration is eternal.

I feel my frustrations fading........I am thankful for the little things.