Tag Archives: humor

Doing the Shuffle


I must tell you all, right off the bat, that I know I haven’t written anything for several weeks.  I really feel bad about it because I know it helps me get through a lot.  I’ve put my volunteer work on hold for this month because of the extreme anxiety I’m feeling about my health and the crazy developments with my father’s estate and, as such, the state of my family life.  The stresses have really gotten to me where I am, once again, staying away from candycrushthe outside world most of the time and hiding in my online games.  So boring I know.  I do go to my appointments and have made more effort into cooking some meals the last few days than relying on junk food.  It helps that Carly is home to eat.

After messing up the last 2 appointments booked with my new mental health worker we finally met each other for the second time.  It all went well until she asked me how my typical day goes.  I was quite embarrassed about it until I remembered that I do get up early twice a week for when my granddaughter comes over for the day.  (So fun to be with her…two years old and so cute and full of goof).  She asked me what my stresses are and I told her about the above mentioned in more detail.  It was a pretty substantial list but mostly I have such fast and negative thoughts.  Then I was to go over the positive things in my life which were fewer but still easy to come up with; kids, boyfriend, and my finances are a little better.  I was also to tell her about what I do to help the with stress.  Again the list was small but at the end of the meeting she said that column would eventually be full and she could see how low my self-worth and self-esteem were and she has the tools to work on those negative thoughts.

I so desperately want that.  So much.  Which is one reason why I’m writing tonight.

It’s been mind-numbing during the day and my sleep is filled with monsters and fear.  Restful sleep is really not a part of my nights.  It’s mostly 3 or 4 in the monstermorning when my brain will finally shut down and my eyes slam shut for anywhere from 5 to 12 hours of sleep.  I slept a day away a few weeks ago with a total of 19 hours.  Crazy.

One thing I told my worker that I was sure I looked like a “mental health patient” with my shaking and whatever.  She assured me I looked just fine and start thinking more positive about that at least.

Well, sure thing.  Except for last night…

My fella and I were finally getting to have some time together and were going out for supper except I kinda and sorta forgot about the going out part only because it was later than I thought we would be going.  He called and said he was here and I had just got out of the shower and was dripping wet, naked and just figured, no problem, I’ll just throw something on and let him into my building like I usually do.  I went to the front door, where he usually waits, then the back door but no fella.  I was quite confused.  I called him and asked him where the heck was he and he said at the front in the #1 parking space.  So, after wandering around the hallway in my nightie for another couple of minutes it dawned on me about the going out part.

Right.  He’s waiting in the truck.  For me.  So we can go out for supper.  Okay.  I got it now.

What to wear?  I felt all hot and sweaty after all that running around so I put on a tank top and jeans and put hair products in my very wet hair and ran out the door.  He asked me if I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant but I told him I wasn’t really dressed for one (that’s for sure!) so he suggested a favourite pizza joint we both like.

It was very crowded and we were waiting for a table when I noticed someone eating at a table nearby who doesn’t like me too much and the feelings are white winequite mutual.  I hid behind my fella after warning him.  He was worried about a cat fight or me being so uncomfortable that we should go.  I told him not to worry, I have big ovaries and can take it but could he please buy me a glass of wine tonight?  Absolutely, he said.

He’s such a nice fella.

So all the tables were full except for one right beside this person and a whole bunch of reserved ones.  The owner of the restaurant told us to sit in the reserved section for now until a booth became available.  “Don’t you guys leave,” she said.  Whew.  We sat in the reserved section (getting the stinky eye from THAT table) until a group of volleyball players started to arrive. It was then I noticed how hot my feet were as I listened to my fella regale me with his own restaurant stories.  I tried to remember which shoes I put on when, to my horror, I looked down at my feet and saw….

I was wearing my slippers.

I was sitting in a nice restaurant with soaking wet hair, a man’s lumber jacket, no slippersbra and a tank top and wearing my slippers and there is a person 20 feet away who thinks I should be locked up and felt the need to insult and treat me with such disrespect because of my illness I had to block her from my life.

 I looked like the stereotypical mental health patient.  Just like I thought…

A booth opened up and the owner had us skedaddle over there right away.  It was a really busy night.

My fella had me howling with laughter when I confessed to my slipper shuffle.  He does that all the time. He said he was going to get me a hospital gown to go with my slippers for next time we go out so I can really look the part.  It was then I remembered what I told my worker about the fear I had that people looked at me funny and man…I was laughing so hard.  We both were.  I had to put a little extra shuffle in my step for the rest of the night and the code word was “slippers” to make me start laughing all over again.

Supper was great.  At the end when my fella was paying the bill I asked the owner how her trip to Greece went.  She told us that she went there to find all her old boyfriends so she could fuck them since she was too young to do that when she lived there as a young girl.  She didn’t find any.

My fella was more shocked by her confession than by my slippers.  It just added to the general hilarity and weirdness of the evening.

It was great to get out.  It did me a world of good.  I’m so looking forward to Thanksgiving with my sister’s family and my group.

I’m also looking forward to working with my mental health worker in the coming months.

So I hope everyone has a great Canadian Thanksgiving and even if you’re not turkeydinnerCanadian, eat some turkey.

🙂

 

Better Late…


Oh I have been a bad girl, missing at least 3 posts I had committed to writing.  Things are so busy with summer and all.  I find myself getting out of the apartment just about everyday now except maybe for most weekends.

Summer is always special.  I’ve written about it before and now you can read it summeragain:  The smells (on my skin, in the air, my granddaughters’ hair), the beach when I can get there (which smells totally different by the way), walking and walking even though my knees are older than dirt and so are my hips but I still walk when I can.

I just came back from 5 days at the beach with my daughter and my sister’s family.  I also was able to bring out my oldest granddaughter for the weekend.  It was “Gamma Gamma” and some new words and lots of new dance steps as well as our old favourites.  Even the nephews got into The Wiggles!  Our little gal had lots of fun.  I miss her now.

I also met a guy about a month ago. Things are really good but I won’t jinx anything.  We will just see how it goes.  🙂

It’s been great to feel the freedom from the isolation I had for the last few years.  This getting out everyday sure opened my eyes to my city.  Buses are still the fun buspart of the day with screaming babies, drunks who want to smell my hair and sometimes meeting up with old friends for those brief moments until whoever’s stop comes first.

I’ve been handling the death of my dad by keeping very busy.  It’s been kind of strange helping my sister do inventory on his estate and seeing some things for the first time and yet see the things he used every day too.  I love how he and my mom are now both in my dreams at night.

I still smoke in my dreams every night too.  Crazy.

One thing I am happy to say is we found my missing sister!  Alive and as well as she can possibly be and in touch with another family member.  Such a relief when I found out.  I was in tears knowing she still walked this earth even though her demons are still chasing her.  I don’t think I will ever see her again as it would be too difficult for her but having some contact through another trusted person makes it okay.

All that weight I lost is slowly coming back and Dr. G wants blood work done before I have my next appointment.  Fasting blood work.  Meanie.  He’s glad I seemed to have met a really nice man and also finally made my connection with a mental health worker.

Not that the new guy is my mental health worker.

Oh no, now that’s just confusing.

Dr. G is so pleased with my progress these last few months.  I do feel so much better with more positive things in my life.  These help me handle the negatives going on.

So I hope to get another post in during the next couple of days.  See you in my dreams!

 

A Few of My Favourite Things…


I’ve been thinking about positive thoughts and where they come from.  I really have to force myself, everyday, to think of myself in positive ways.  I thought I would try to come up with a list of my favourite things, not necessarily about me but maybe it will tell the world and me what I like and love.  So, in no particular order…

  1. Blue.  I love the colour blue for so many reasons.  I sometimes gasp at a new shade that makes me wish for the tropics or paint a picture.  Neither of which I’ll be getting to do soon.  The best blues are cobalt and music.
  2. My daughter’s smile.  It lights up the whole room.  It’s a rare thing to be seen since she became a teen.  Her brother and I spied on her while shecarly was working the drive thru at her work and oh, she smiled at everyone!  We both were astounded by the transformation.  I love her more every day than I did the day before.
  3. When she laughs it’s like bells
  4. My son’s energy.  Oh man he makes me tired!  Always smiling is that guy.  Very social which is the opposite of me.  He’s always talking and getting a deal going and has high ambitions.  I am immensely proud of him.  He is definitely one of my favourite things.  I love him dearly.
  5. My Mom’s paintings she left behind.  I just love them because she 000_0131never really knew her talent until she was in her 40’s, 50’s and she still painted until she died.  She had a passion.
  6. I love when people aren’t afraid to tell me what they think.  Sometimes I’m afraid of it, thinking it might be bad but it rarely comes out that way.
  7. I love colour and beauty and movement.  I love the ballet.
  8. I love the symphony.  The music sends me somewhere else.  I fell in love with the symphony at the same time I fell in love with the ballet.
  9. I love the kindness of others.  So many people have shown me how good they can be.  I’m truly lucky to know them and I’m a better person because of them.
  10. I love cats.  So cute, especially my Lucky who is, thank goodness, stilllucky2 with us.
  11. I like dogs too but not as much as cats. 🙂
  12. I love chocolate.
  13. I love lilacs and the wonderful aroma they leave in the air during Springtime.  I don’t think we’ll be having Spring this year.
  14. Spring and Summer
  15. My favourite flower would forget-me-nots.  I think.  If I was to make a bouquet it would be made up of many different kinds.  Orchids are always an option.
  16. I love long car rides.
  17. I love going out for supper.
  18. I love new clothes.
  19. And Shoes
  20. Reading and reading
  21. I love watching movies where I get totally lost.  I really don’t have a favourite movie, there are too many.  It always depends on the mood of the movie; for action movies I love the Terminator series; for love stories my favourite has to be The Notebook.  Whatever it is it has to be good.
  22. I like that I haven’t cried in weeks and weeks.
  23. I like Dr. G.  He saved my life along with Dr. H who died way too soon.  He found me Dr. G before he had to go though.
  24. I love my father’s face when he wakes up and sees me and the joyIMG_0292 that’s there, even though he doesn’t know its me.  He knows its someone he loves and who loves him.
  25. I love my grandchild.  She’s adorable.  I love when she holds out her arms for me even if her mom is holding her.  I love when she makes me feel special like at Easter when I was giving her strawberries and she said, in her 19 month voice, Mo Gamma.
  26. I love my younger sister and her family.  And all their dogs.  And all their cats.  Those kids have been brought up right and I stole a lot of things to use to bring up mine.
  27. Student Led Parent Teacher Conferences.  I was just at my daughter’s yesterday and finally got to see her amazing photographs.  She has a passion.  All her teachers said the same thing.  She does excellent work and it’s a pleasure having her in class.  They are all sure she will go on to do great things.  She didn’t want to go because she couldn’t see the point as her report card was excellent but I made her.  I felt it was important for her to hear the praises and make plans and goals.  She was very proud of herself and could see me bursting with it as well.
  28. I like when I make good decisions.
  29. I love to laugh and laugh until I cry or a little bit of pee comes out.  Well maybe not that but you know what I mean.
  30. I love how I’ve been able to get along for more than 3 years without a car.  Maybe it’s 4.  I don’t know but it doesn’t matter much anymore.  The only time I’ll miss it is during the summer because I won’t be able to get to the beach when I want to go.
  31. THE BEACH!  OMG I love the beach so much.  I love how it smells and the sounds and love looking at the water.  In my teens, I used to have a secretdsc024061.jpg place in the cliffs where I could be alone, write in my journal and watch the water while burying my feet in hot, smooth, white sand.  I can still feel the sun on my face and arms. The spot is gone now as everything has eroded away.  My memories of it though always fill me with comfort.  No one could find me.
  32. Driving.  I know I said I didn’t miss having a car but I really like driving.  I used to drive a lot in the summers, especially, to get to my ex’s cabin, sometimes just for the day and it would be a 4 hour drive then.  2 hours each way. Oh you know what I mean.
  33. I love the show Friends and the Joeyisms.
  34. Days of Our Lives and Dr. Phil and Ellen are my friends during the day.
  35. Wine.  Yeah.
  36. Writing of course. That’s my passion.
  37. Sleeping
  38. Eating
  39. Loving
  40. No more fear

I think that should do it.  Its been very interesting making this list.  Thanks for being interested enough to read it.  I’m sure there are lots more and I’m sorry if I left out anyone. I’ll leave you with a video someone sent me today on Facebook that has become one of my favourites.

http://youtu.be/V7OGY1Jxp3o

Later

PS:  The pictures on this page belong to me and I do not give permission for anyone to copy them without my consent.  Thank you.

I’ve Got the Glow


I’m sitting here during another astounding hot flash of epic proportions thinking nothing could ever beat the last one.  I keep getting fooled by my own body insisting on betraying me every day and anywhere.  Oh my god, even the inside of my ears are “glowing” this time.

HotFlashBrain_121212-617x416I’ve been pretty good at not getting caught during one of these tropical-hikes-up- a-smoldering-volcano as I rarely leave the apartment.  On Monday at my volunteer job I thought I was going to make it through without one. The end of my shift arrived and the volunteer manager wanted to chat.  Part way through the conversation I could feel the tell-tale signs; the slow building of heat filling first my face and hair then, before it could get any worse, I excused myself to escape to what I hoped was the cooler hospital hallway.  What a sight I must have been…ripping off my vest which announces my volunteer status and holding back on ripping anything else off although I did unbutton the first 2 buttons of my blouse.  Sweat was dripping from my face, my nose and my hair when the volunteer manager came out to the hallway to tell me something else I needed to know.   She took one look at me frantically fanning my face with my hands (uselessly I might add) and I apologized for my body’s betrayal (she’s young yet, she’s going to get hers soon enough) and tried to listen although I could feel the creeping of moisture on my arms and legs. The back of my blouse became quite damp. She looked away in embarrassment and I believe she was somewhat frightened.  My face was so hot.  Unbelievable.

I wish I could explain this phenomenon to someone who never had one.  Maybe if you ever blushed you would get a sense of it.  Heat rising up from your chest to your face and neck, heartbeat speeding up.  But it’s more than that.  MORE I say!  MORE moisture.  MORE heat.  MORE madness.  MORE of just waiting for it to be over.menopause

I really thought it was getting better.  I figured just a few short weeks ago what a piece of cake this menopause thing and hot flashes are turning out to be.  I’ve been going though menopause for the last year and was pre-menopausal for at least 2 years before that. So hot flashes are not unfamiliar to me. I thought they were getting less and less.  HA!  Just more intense now and more often.  I’m opening and closing the windows more and more (thank goodness it warmed up enough outside so I can finally get them open!) and I have a fan on me all night.  That will do just fine.

I sure could have done without that first appearance of a hot flash though.  It probably won’t be the last.

The things I get to look forward too.  Blech.

In the Beginning


I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl and fell in love with reading.  I wanted to read way before parents were allowed to teach their kids anything about it before kindergarten and even first grade.  My mom would read me my favourite books so much that I actually started to read a bit on my own.  Once I learned to read in school, though, there was no holding me back.  I remember driving with my parents and them asking me what a sign might say and I would patiently sound out each letter until the word seemed to appear in my head and burst out of my mouth.  Every time my family would cheer and applaud me for my efforts.

I would read to my little sister most nights, giving her the stories I heard and loved.  I would try to teach her to read while we played “Teacher”.

writngWriting came next and it seemed like a natural thing. I wrote plays for my family and friends to act in.  Quite elaborate ones too.  One of them I remember quite well because it was about a dragon (my dad) and the prince (my cousin, Freddy) having a battle over the princess, (my little sister, Colleen).  I was the director.  This all took place in the kitchen at our cottage at the beach.  The dragon kept blowing fire at the prince and I kept yelling at the prince to put out the fire.  Unfortunately, the prince got the bright idea to take a 5 gallon pail of water and throw it at the dragon, soaking everything in the kitchen.  My mom was not happy and there were no more plays inside anymore.  But I kept writing them.

I didn’t realize that I could write until 10th grade when our English teacher had us keep a journal which he read every night and marked or made comments.  One day he gave us starter lines for creative writing and one of them was the one I picked “As the clock ticked…”  Suddenly I had an incredible idea of the last seconds of a person’s life ticking away; someone on death row about to die for killing her husband.  I wrote pages and pages in the 20 minutes we were allowed to write.  When I handed it in I had such a thrill of excitement knowing that someone was going to read it and give me an honest opinion.  I knew it was good.

It was.  The teacher wrote several lines of positive comments and gave me an A+.  He also encouraged me to write more and try to find that burst of imagination and creativity more often.  He also told me that was one of the reasons for the journal.  Practicing my writing would only give me more of a voice and, by golly, it sure has.

I saw my niece last night and found out she’s been following my blog.  I always feel kind of weird when I find out someone I know reads all about what’s in my head and then that goes away almost right away.  I’m writing for me and for anyone who wants to read it.  She wants me to keep writing and that’s my intention.  It was great to  have feedback from her and I feel encouraged to keep up my once-a-week posts here.

One of these days I hope to make a living at this.  Wouldn’t that be something?  I want to take more creative writing courses and maybe get a novel out of this old noggin of mine.  That has always been my dream.

March Birthdays


I don’t have too much to write about this week.  I’ve been sick with an awful cold and cough, which I tried, unsuccessfully, to hide from my date on Saturday.  I’ve missed 2 weeks of volunteering and have been staying in a lot.

Hmm, wait, I did host a dinner party for my son’s 29th birthday on March 2, all while I was just getting this stupid cold.  A turkey, a ham and 10 of my favourite people squashed in my tiny apartment.

The highlight at the beginning (it was like I planned it!) was the fuzz (cops to you young ‘uns) who arrived at the front door of the apartment block just as I was going to let my sister into the building. Now, you know they weren’t looking for me.  A neighbour called them the fuzzfor their own problems in their own suite.  As they tried to figure out exactly which suite they were looking for, my sister came barreling down the hall, very excited and half blind from her fogged up glasses and shouting, “Hey Marie!  I have your pot!”  Of course she was talking about cookware.  Of course she was!  I was gesturing to said pot to the nice policemen who were now looking at me with a little more interest than they were before.

Cop 1:  I think she’s really a drug dealer and only looks like a Sunday School teacher…

Cop 2:  I say we frisk her…

By the time my son arrived, he saw a man getting the cuffs slapped on him in the hallway (well, the arrest was pretty quiet, no ruckus, no fuss) and he was just a little bit rattled by the sight as he came in with his Mohawk and punk rock outfit he bedazzled himself.  Okay, it’s not cool to say bedazzled; he studded and patched the jacket to perfection.

Now that all the players were there, it was time to get the supper on the table.  I was carving the turkey until my sister took over so I could make gravy. It seemed every time I started something she was there to take over and move me on to anther task.  I cut up the ham and realized just how much I miss my electric knife.  My sister mashed the potatoes with butter and milk (I was out of cream cheese and really wished I had my mixer too); corn was cooked just right and Carly made a perfect Caesar Salad as she always does.  It seemed like a real flurry of activity in my teeny tiny kitchen but organized, very hot and smelling awesome.

The turkey was done just divine although the stuffing was too moist.  Too bad the ham didn’t have the flavour I wanted.  I was going for a sweeter taste than it turkeydinnerhad.  I did use a cup and a half of brown sugar and only 1/2 cup of pineapple juice. Forget the juice next time I think.  The gravy was amazing.  Everyone appreciated having turkey at this time of year.  We all think it’s too long to wait for it again in the fall.

It must have been good enough because everyone ate and ate then ate the ice cream cake that followed.  It all worked out so great! I can’t believe I pulled it off.  Both my kids were impressed.

Anyway, the weather is finally warmer and the streets are either messy or icy so going outside means I always expect the unexpected.  Hopefully this virus or whatever it is will be a thing of the past and I can get back to a routine outside of the apartment.

Oh and now it’s time to plan Carly’s birthday.  Both kids born in March.  What was it about those July long weekends?

Looking Back, Pushing Forward


I’ve been reading some of the posts on my blog and have been learning a lot about myself.  There’s a little button I push that says “Random Post” and I click on it and get a different one every time.  Some of them are just hilarious and I’m so surprised with my sense of humour and how “on” I can be, even during difficult times.  There are posts where I can see how far the progress my thought process has become and the circle upon circles I’ve lived and survived within my world.  So even though I think I might be falling behind I can see I’m progressing and learning just like I should.reading blogs

I love the ones with my kids.

Some of my favourites aren’t necessarily the post itself, but the comments I’ve received.  So supportive, kind and so giving, They mean the world to me.  These are people who take the time out to express what my writing means to them.

Two posts that stand out, because they were written during one of the most awful times in my life are here and here.  Reading them again has really showed me how far I’ve come; the realization and seeing the journey of accepting myself with bipolar is really happening. The comments in both are what helped to keep me going.

Some that made me laugh out loud, even now, are here and here and here.

To me, two of the most meaningful posts I’ve written: here because it still moves me to tears that I could express my feelings and it was about my Dad and here because I first told a huge part of my story.

I feel bad that some of my earlier posts have been deleted when WordPress took over from MySpace and these were lost in the transfer.  I won’t get them back but I will just keep writing new ones!

There are others, of course, but the ones I picked will take a while to read or re-read if you would like to.  I would love to know which posts have been standouts for you.

The Silence


It was inevitable:  no pay bill = No TV For You.whitenoise

My apartment is so quiet.  I can hear the tinnitus in my ear, clicking away; my blood flowing; my heart beating and every sound from the upstairs suite are explosions.  They shower at least 4 times a day and vacuum at least 2.  It’s absolutely abnormal how many time they flush their toilet.  They stomp and yell and laugh and wrestle and I don’t think they have a TV either because no one is sitting still up there.  Oh and they drop a lot of things.  Big things.

My cat loves this opportunity to howl even more than she has in the past.  There’s nothing around to compete with her voice. I believe she’s trying to sing about all her life’s passions and journeys (she hasn’t had much so maybe she cries for the lack thereof).  She scrapes her nails all the way to the bottom of her litter box with more gusto than necessary.  I hear her scarfing down her cat food bowlfood, after I patiently watch and pet her every day, soothing her 3 month-long anxiety of eating alone.

It could be worse though.  She used to not want to poop alone.  This is a lot better.

By the second or third day I was almost mad by the silence and the noise.  I relied on that TV for, not only for the shows (OMG, The Voice starts soon!), it blocked out all the annoying sounds of everyday life.  noisy neighborsBut I miss Rachael Ray’s cooking!  Burger days!.  I covet her cookware. And I don’t care what anyone thinks, I need to see all the Friends episodes for the 12th time.  My soap opera is reduced to a cheap cut on YouTube where the mouths are not synched with the words and that makes me dizzy. If I squint a little, though, it helps. And Dr. Phil!  Carly and I were bonding over that show.  Sadly, I will never know if Property Virgins will ever have someone not lose their property virginity.

TV was also my main source for music.  I never could quite figure out how to piano-1.jpgupload music to my iPhone (or download or whatever).  I found a station on the internet that plays all kinds of genres though.  It’s such a relief to have beautiful music in my life again.

My eyes are blurry from reading and cross-eyed from playing games online.  I know soon I’ll regret having started the latter.  Already I can feel the cramping in my hand from the abnormal way I have to hold my phone to play.  I hate you Candy Crush.

I’m quite hard of hearing so this sensitivity to noise is pretty new to me.  People knock on my window (why do they DO that??) and it sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom.  Or the door.  Or right behind me!!  GAH!  I almost always scream a little.  I never answer the window (bring your frigging KEYS!).  Unfortunately, none of this means that my hearing has improved.  I still have difficulty understanding someone during a conversation unless they know to speak clearly with a slight Minnie Mouse tonality.

So once I catch up on the bills then I’ll have the TV back on.

I wonder if I’ll even want to?

Switching Bottles


Well, my friend Jam is back in town, and ready to party.  The last time I partied with her was here and that was a time I will never forget.  I did write it all down so that helps with the not-forgetting part.  Which is why I’m doing it this time too.  Its great catching up with old friends.

Of course some things never change.  For one thing, just like last time, we were having a snow storm and I was trudging up the street with snow that, in some wineplaces, was up to my knees .  I had a half a bottle of my son’s homemade wine in an insulated water bottle and some 7-up to tame it just a bit.  It is a tad wicked.  No stuffed mushrooms though, just a box of Crunch and Munch this time.

I put on makeup before I left, although I don’t know why.  I guess because I haven’t had a picture taken of me in months, not even at selfie jan 2014Christmas, which is fine by me, let me tell ya.  Tonight, though, there are lots of pictures of me that should just be burned.  I can laugh at them though as long as I don’t acknowledge it’s me in the pictures.  Ha.   I did take one selfie that was pretty good.  I was going for a one-chin look and think I did it.  I did have to reach up quite far with the camera to get the effect I wanted. What do you think?  I’m dreading when Jan gets back home and will upload a whole bunch on Facebook.

So I made it to the door and didn’t fall in a snow bank.  There they were, the girls from the block and Sue(p).  God I love them.  We had snacks, drank some wine and remembered the great times we had.  We also realized that things aren’t like they used to be.  We are all so laid back (old) although it could be because of the cold it really limits what one can do.  We weren’t about to get on a bus and go to a restaurant and spend lots of money on food and booze then hop on another bus and yell things at Shelly with the sole purpose of embarrassing her (“Shelly has a boooyfriieeennd!!!”) while on our way to the casino.  Shelly was so easily embarrassed back then, now she just gives it right back at us AND she says really bad words more often.  That’s fun too but not nearly.  Watching and hearing her apologize profusely to whoever she had to sit with on that bus would make everything just get out of control.

Life was so different then.

Memories of a stinky cab ride

Memories of a stinky cab ride

So what did we do?  I laughed so hard the back of my skull hurt so bad I had to make myself stop.  I swear I was having a stroke or my brain was just trying to leak out the back way.  We started posing for pictures but without our Sue as she left a little early.  She did drink a lot of wine before I got there.

Invaded by the teens.

Invaded by the teens.

Shelly and Jan’s kids were there as well as some miscellaneous others that Shelly seems to adopt.  Mine stayed home. They were mostly pushing cars out of the snow outside the house.  A lot of snow and you’d think people would know better.  These kids were so loud I couldn’t believe it but what great human beings.  Shelly would screech their names, demanding they come upstairs and help the neighbours get out of the driveway AGAIN and up they would come.  Except the girls.  They put on fashion shows for us and made us ache for our youth.

My place is so quiet.

That feeling of friendship, which I felt was missing from my life for so long, was as if it never left my heart.  How easy it is to relate to these women, and to laugh and tell stories.

The best story?  Sue was woken up one night by a stranger, who was obviously drunk and in her room looking for “Jordan”.  She kept asking him what the hell he was doing there.  She got out of bed, was in her nightgown (thank goodness) and followed him out to her kitchen.  (Who are you??) There she noticed he had (Who the hell is Jordan???) helped himself to some snacks and tried to open her Crown Royal bottle (which is so stuck but I bet I could open it).  All the while he kept asking her where Jordan was. (How did you get in here??)  He finally realized that he was in the wrong house (Sue has no idea how he got in there or who he was or who the heck was Jordan) and was going to leave.  He was heading for the door and Sue was worried that he didn’t have a jacket but he left anyway.  She found the jacket (he had set up a nice little bed on her couch). She called 911 and told them about the guy  (that poor, poor man is out there without his jacket.  I’m so WORRIED!) and how worried she was about him and could they please come by to get his jacket so he doesn’t freeze to death.  NOTHING about the break and enter.  Our Sue was just worried about the hoodlum’s welfare.  We were all imagining if it were us and we would not be so calm.  I would have been beating the guy over the head and chasing him from my place, screaming at him to get out.  Jan figured she would have stood there and screamed and panicked too.

Legs up and duck face for Shelly.  OMG we are so HOT

Legs up and duck face for Shelly. OMG we are so HOT

We talked about and remembered some recent firefighter stories,  the crazy diet stories, the backyard fire pit stories, some ex-husband stories (mostly good ones that were hilarious and not bashing them too much), the time when Shelly’s cat wasn’t as, umm, fluffy as she is now.  Hell, we were less fluffy back then too. The times when Shelly and Jan would be on the bus with their kids, someone always seemed to scream at them that they were lesbians.   Which led to some dating stories and questions.  Lots and lots of questions.  But not about lesbians.

It was a good way to reconnect with them.  They are my friends.  They were never gone.  I plan on keeping it up but when the weather gets warmer.  I’ll have 2 grandbabies by then and will be wanting to go show off visiting.  I hope Jan will be able to come back again soon.

Now I have to go to Urban Dictionary and look up what my name means.  Sue’s started off nice but ended up with nasty words.

I’m going to try to post every week again.  That’s my goal so hopefully I’ll see you next week!

Days of the Dum Dums


I’ve had a bad case of brain farts, senior moments and the dum-dums for the last couple days.  I think I should just stay inside but that would defeat the promise I made to myself to go out every day.
BrainFarts-300x181

I went out yesterday, took the bus because I was feeling pretty closed in.  I’ve been sleeping a lot again which is not good.  So off I went to do some banking and then sat in a McDonald’s and had a burger and drink while I surfed on my phone.  I took my time but all the while I felt so foggy and not-quite there.  A nice man seated himself where I could see him and smiled at me friendly like but didn’t say a word.  Well, he looked nice to me.  I’ve been a little lonesome lately.

I checked the bus schedule and found I had plenty of time to get my next ride.  I went outside to wait and realized I was missing something.  No!  My phone.  It wasn’t in my purse.  I looked 3 times.  It wasn’t in my pants pockets either.  Oh no.  Did I really…?  Could I have….?

It might have still been on the tray.  I think I threw it in the garbage.

Panicked, I went back to the McD’s and quickly started looking through the very top of the garbage I dumped mine in.  Noooo.  I was almost wailing!  The friendly man was looking at me like I was nuts (technically…yeah) (and why I keep looking at him I have no idea) and another man who came in just before me was keeping his distance but watching me carefully.  I just knew that one of the two people in the place would either throw a huge pile of garbage on top of my phone or just reach in and  pluck out my phone and run away with it.  I rushed to the counter and tried to explain to the counter person what was happening but she didn’t understand me.  I asked for the manager and he took his time until he saw the panic on my face.  I explained as I ran back to the garbage can.  He yelled at me not to touch the can.

Bedlam.  It was bedlam.

He had the gloves so he started digging.  After a while he lifted the clear bag out of the can so we can look through the sides.  No.  Nothing.  The kindly gentleman customer was wanting to help but wouldn’t get down and dirty.  He did, however, look through the clear plastic and truly looked sad for me.  Then the other customer had a brilliant idea.

Why doesn’t he just call my phone?

Good idea.  Now I have to give my number to a stranger.  Well, I did it and we all waited.

We all heard the phone ring.  Not in my purse.  It didn’t sound like it was in the bag.  The manager said maybe at the table where I was sitting.  It could have fallen on the floor.  I rushed over there.

Good thing I was first.

I felt a weight in my jacket hit me in the ribs as I bent over to look under the table.

It was the freaking phone in my pocket.  doh-homer-simpson-air-freshener

I quickly pulled it out of that damn pocket (doh! doh! doh!) and pretended like I found it under the table.  “I found it!” I yelled triumphantly, holding it up.  Everyone clapped and cheered and I was so red.   I took time to wash the garbage off my hands and ran out of there, yelling my thank-you’s to all, just in time for the bus.

Today I managed to buy eggs and other groceries.  I dropped the eggs twice.  I haven’t looked in the carton yet.  I don’t want to talk about it.

Nor do I want to talk about the bra I bought for $2  through an auction either.

Maybe I should stay home tomorrow.