Saturday 9: Money Grabber
1. Has anyone ever intentionally ripped you off? Or perhaps unintentionally? I have had my purse stolen twice. It sucks.
2. When was the last time that you made a quip that fell completely flat and embarrassed you? In my office a couple weeks ago. I was chatting with my boss and got distracted by an email that came in. It included a photo of Jon Hamm/Don Draper looking sooo fine. One doesn't expect to see such a thing in a business email! The pun I made after that was very lame. My mind was no longer on topic.
3. When you go to sleep, does it you need to be absolutely quiet or do you need a little noise (radio, TV, music or white)? Depends. If I need to get to sleep but I'm not tired, I need the TV.
4. Do you have a memorable "ripped clothing" moment in your life? No? How about in someone else's? (Come on, you know you have something to contribute!) I loved my John Lennon Rock 'n Roll shirt. So much so that I objected when my boyfriend really wanted to pull the scoop neck way down. He thought it would be make me hot, and under other circumstances it might have. But I really loved that shirt.
5. What's changed on your blog since its inception? ...a redo? ...a change of pace? ...or is it still business as usual? The template has changed a couple times.
6. Can you remember where you were in life ten years ago? If you could travel back in time and whisper something to yourself ten years ago, what would it be? "Don't take him too seriously."
7. Okay, let's have it! What's the craziest, most impulsive thing you've ever done? A few years back, while ringing in the New Year in Key West, I hiked up my slacks and went running into the ocean at midnight. It seemed rather natural and was nice and warm and refreshing. I wonder why no one joined me ...
8. If you were having a bad day what or who would you turn to for comfort? My best friend
9. According to the song White Rabbit, "one pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small". If you were offered these pills today, which pill would you take and where would it take you? The one that makes me small. I'm big enough, thank you.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Friday, September 02, 2011
I can't do this right now
I can't worry about my oldest friend, her kids and the tumult that is her life. When I last heard from her -- on Wednesday -- her son was having "a tantrum like a 2 year old" because neither of his parents can foot the bill for his $25,000+ college education. He was banging the walls again, which left her with a broken light switch in the bathroom. Her fault, he maintains, because she didn't heed his warning when he told her to "not fucking talk to him."
I called yesterday.
I called twice today. And I'm back to hearing nothing but crickets.
I know she picks up the phone, sees it's me, and puts it down. I hate that. She knows I hate it. I've told her. Since it isn't her goal to punish me, I know it's that she's overwhelmed by the mess that is her life since she moved to the Hills of Beverly. And I know it must be especially heart breaking because this move was supposed to solve all her problems.
I love her and I'm genuinely sorry this is all happening to her.
But my feelings matter, too. She knows how terrified I am. That's why she gave way to that generous impulse to drop everything and fly out here to be with me. And I can't spend any more time or effort reaching out to her. It's exhausting me when I can least afford to be exhausted.
Now that's what friends are for
Last night my friend John and I met for burgers and drinks at the same bar we've been going to for ... um ... 30 years. Gulp. If those walls could talk! Anyway, he was swell, listening patiently to my obsessive worries and giving me wise tips on how to get by through my hospitalization and at-home convalescence. And who better? He's been in and out of hospitals a great deal over the last few years and spent weeks and weeks at home recovery.
His advice:
• Push myself. If, post-op, I can walk at all, I should.
• Stand up for myself. Don't let the insurance company "rush" me out of the hospital early. Play the "I live alone" card if need be.
• Don't rely on the pain meds too much.
• Tell Kathy. She's our mutual friend and I have been avoiding that conversation. I love Kathy but she can be sooooo difficult, especially when it comes to medical matters. I don't want to hear how, by having a hysterectomy, I'm a puppet of the male medical establishment, or that things like this don't happen to her because she is positive and won't allow them to. I just can't bear it right now. On the other hand, she does care about me and he's right, those feelings should be honored. She'd be so hurt if this all happened and I didn't tell her. And, besides, not telling her would put John in the middle. He doesn't deserve that. So I'll shoot Kathy an email next week.
John is a good friend. A faithful friend. I am lucky to have him.
His advice:
• Push myself. If, post-op, I can walk at all, I should.
• Stand up for myself. Don't let the insurance company "rush" me out of the hospital early. Play the "I live alone" card if need be.
• Don't rely on the pain meds too much.
• Tell Kathy. She's our mutual friend and I have been avoiding that conversation. I love Kathy but she can be sooooo difficult, especially when it comes to medical matters. I don't want to hear how, by having a hysterectomy, I'm a puppet of the male medical establishment, or that things like this don't happen to her because she is positive and won't allow them to. I just can't bear it right now. On the other hand, she does care about me and he's right, those feelings should be honored. She'd be so hurt if this all happened and I didn't tell her. And, besides, not telling her would put John in the middle. He doesn't deserve that. So I'll shoot Kathy an email next week.
John is a good friend. A faithful friend. I am lucky to have him.
Looking HARD for the pony!
One of the lights on my bathroom medicine chest just blew. I changed the bulb but it turns out the problem is in the fixture. AARGH! It's Labor Day weekend, it's not like I can find someone to come over and fix it for me. And, since I only have a grueling two-day workweek left before I go off on my medical adventure, it's not like I can take time off and wait for the handyman.
So I choose to look at it this way: I'll make do with one light in the bathroom until I'm feeling better, and then, during my convalescence when I can't go anywhere anyway, I'll schedule the handyman to come over.
He can replace the flapper thing in my toilet, too! I'll put together a list of handyman chores that can be accomplished when I'm laid up!
Do I sound positive? It's a victory of will over spirit, because finding ANOTHER thing leaves me feeling just plain shitty. (Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm trying to kill the drain flies in the kitchen, too.)
So I choose to look at it this way: I'll make do with one light in the bathroom until I'm feeling better, and then, during my convalescence when I can't go anywhere anyway, I'll schedule the handyman to come over.
He can replace the flapper thing in my toilet, too! I'll put together a list of handyman chores that can be accomplished when I'm laid up!
Do I sound positive? It's a victory of will over spirit, because finding ANOTHER thing leaves me feeling just plain shitty. (Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm trying to kill the drain flies in the kitchen, too.)
Me and Miche -- A love story
This one is for Kwizgiver.
I love my new purse. It's a Miche bag. A black base, or lining, that can be dropped into various "shells."
The size is perfect. The color of my first shell (right) is perfect. And when I switch to the second shell (which hasn't arrived yet), I won't ever wonder which bag I left my phone in.
One thing I plan to do during my convalescence is go through my handbag collection and decide what to part with. Miche will make that easier.
I love my new purse. It's a Miche bag. A black base, or lining, that can be dropped into various "shells."
The size is perfect. The color of my first shell (right) is perfect. And when I switch to the second shell (which hasn't arrived yet), I won't ever wonder which bag I left my phone in.
One thing I plan to do during my convalescence is go through my handbag collection and decide what to part with. Miche will make that easier.
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