Life Is Tough -- and Confusing

It's been quite a week for me. Ever since I started to think about adopting a new dog I just can't seem to stop crying. I'm not sure what that means but I think I may wait before getting another dog.

There may be a lot more to all of this than just missing Freckles but I don't know.

Why is life so hard, so complicated? Where are the unicorns, rainbows, butterflies, and Care Bears?  Why do they warn pregnant women not to take medicine for prostate problems?

Is It Hot In Here Or Am I Just Happy To Sweat On You

This is how my friend Lora and I felt yesterday at the Twins game. The hottest day of the year. We had these great seats in the 9th row. Unfortunately the 9th row is also without covering and we slowly started moving up to the 12th row, then the 18th row, then we just started walking around. With the score 6-0 with my Twins being 0, it was now about being at the stadium more than watching the game. But, as Lori said, we were sweating like "a stuffed pig." Neither one of us really understood what that meant but that's what we were doing.

When we were still in the 9th row I talked a vendor into giving me a big chunk of ice in his chest of beer. I wrapped it in the t-shirt I won at the Treasure Island booth and kept it on my face and neck and wherever I wanted.

A couple of people took a picture of me and my 'EVEN JESUS HATES THE yankees' t-shirt and others commented. If you want to make friends quickly wear this t-shirt to a Twins game. On the light rail ride home, though, there was this kid standing there with his yankee hat on glaring at me for the entire ride. I know it's tough to realize that the guy who is suppose to love all, hates your team but it's true so bite me. I was going to say something as I passed him but he had those pants that were hanging way too low and I watch enough Criminal Minds and Law & Order to know that is the first suspect they look at so I kept my mouth shut.

After I dropped Lori back at her hotel, I stopped at McDonalds to get something to drink and asked for a glass of ice. On the drive home I kept putting ice down my shirt and boy did that feel good. And, if given the opportunity, I would have laid in ice just like this cute guy is doing.

By the way I know I interchanged Lori and Lora -- in high school she was Lori, when she moved away I guess there were a bunch of Loris in her school so she became Lora. I just can't get use to calling her that. She's okay with it.

And my friend Peter said as a punishment or mea culpa for wishing him a happy birthday a day late I had to mention "Peter" every day in my blog for a month so here goes: Mary Martin was great in the play "Peter Pan."

Boys WIll Be Boys Despite What Their Mom Makes Them Say

First ... Cuddles update. I'm going to go meet her on Saturday morning. I talked with her foster mom yesterday. I will see if we click together. She is a bit shy of people so it will be a good sign if she warms up to me quickly. I'll keep you posted.

On to a new subject -- the post apocalyptic possibilities of vegetation infestation on the interior of woodland infrastructures. Or we could talk about my friend's grandsons.

The boys (2 and 5) were here this weekend. They are definitely busy boys. The oldest, Cameron, insisted that the two of us play cops and robbers over and over and over again. I "chased" him through the house while he somehow managed to avoid being captured despite all my crafty moves. Then we played train and rocket ship and I can't remember all of it. But, as is comment with little boys (and big boys) they would get made at each other and hit. Well momma wasn't going to have any of that. The culprit had to go on a timeout and then come back and say (with a lot of coaching) "I'm sorry I hit you" and hug his brother. I watched this happen with each of the boys and I have to tell you it was a hoot because they may have said "I'm sorry I hit you" and hugged their brother but you could see that neither one of them was anymore sorry than they were geese. Given the opportunity they would, and did, do it all over again. I admire the discipline but it would have been more accurate to have them say "I'm sorry I hit you and got caught and had to have a timeout. And I'm sorry I have to hug you when I'd really like to hit you again."

Also when I got to the house and saw Cameron he started to cry because he missed Freckles. That was so sweet. His brother, Bradon (they guy with Freckles), is the guy I gave a stuffed beagle to for Christmas and Cameron suggested we remove one if its back legs so it looked like Freckles. He calls his beagle Freckies. I told Cameron I might get a new dog and he was very happy about that.

Finally, a belated happy birthday to my friend Peter. His birthday was yesterday. He wasn't at work so I'm assuming he was recovering from the weekend of partying. Peter is the youngest of something like 8 or 15 or 12 kids and I'm sure he is not stranger to sibling fighting.

Well on to work where I will spend 7.5 hours shoveling air.  

I'm Getting Dizzy

I feel like I'm on a see saw. I want a dog; I don't want a dog. I want a dog; I don't want a dog. I want a dog; oh look a shiny object. As always -- easily distracted.

This is Cuddles. I have been emailing with her foster mom and may go and meet her this weekend. She is 8 years old and tiny -- only 17 pounds. She has always lived in a puppy mill and never had a home to call her own.

I do miss coming home to someone happy to see me. And I have been quite isolated in my home. I could go all day without ever going outside or seeing people. When you have a dog, especially in this neighborhood, you have a community of instant friends. Lots of people have no idea what my name is but knew me as "Freckles' mom."

Dogs are a lot of work, but the joy always outweighed the work. But I keep wondering if I'm going too fast. Am I just trying to replace Freckles? That wouldn't be fair. And I wonder if I need to give myself more time. I still cry when I think of her and hug her blanket at night. It sounds weird, which isn't that surprising coming from me, but I feel like I'm cheating on Freckles.

Like I said ... I'm on a see saw.

What The Heck?

Can someone, somewhere, some place, some time, some kind of wonderful yes she is .... ooops I got lost in thought again. But I had my fourth dream (that I remember) with Woody Allen in it.

I'm a big Woody Allen movie fan (well most of his movies) and think his marrying his step-daughter is creepy but I don't think about him all all that much. Yet, there he is ... sneaking around in my subconscious. And why was he living in my grandma's house?

I imagine Freud would say it's because he has a penis and I envy it. And because he's "inside" my grandma's house I want him "inside" my house -- if you get my drift. (I'd say vagina but according to the folks in Michigan that's a dirty word and I never say dirty words like that -- true shit.)

I've also heard if you have a person keep showing up in your dreams his or her initials are actually something you long for. So let's see W.A.:

Washboard Abs
Wiggling Aardvarks
Whistling Albatross
White Ankles
Wacky Asparagus

I guess I may never know.

Old (and I mean OLD) Friends Are Great

"Why do birds suddenly appear, every time I am near? Just like me, they long to be, close to me." Okay that's the narcissistic version of the song.

Sorry I was out of touch last week. I was dealing with a headache that wouldn't quit and a life that didn't seem to be at all interesting enough to write about. And I also discovered that without having to take Freckles out for a walk and get her settled in her kennel, etc. I can get up much later and still make the bus.  I would still trade the sleeping time to have Freckles back -- but that's another story.

I have had a weekend with the theme Friends, Friends, and more Friends (and none of them were on the TV show). On Saturday I went to dinner with my friend Nancy. Then yesterday I got to have breakfast with the "girls" from GPM&A. I've know them since 1975 --- that's a long time. Porky (oh sure her real name is Nancy but I call her Porky and she calls me Beanie) is retiring at the end of this month. She is the third one in the group to retire. I think I'm next (I hope, I hope, I hope). Chris and her husband moved into a senior community and they are the youngest people there. Chris has to keep telling people that she doesn't work there. What a hoot. Cheryl paid off her house -- can you imagine? And Sue (yet another Sue in my life -- she is the mother of my child -- okay I was her labor coach about 32 years ago?!?) currently lives in California but she said she'd like to eventually move back. I hope she can. Mary (aka the "other Mary") wasn't able to come. Her daughter was in a softball tournament -- but she's off to college this fall so Mary will find herself with a lot more time on her hands soon.

I also learned that my friend Joni just lost her dad so I'm thinking about her. And a woman I went to high school with, Barb, just lost her mom and I'm thinking about her. And then last night Peter called and left a message he'll talk to me today -- I think he finally won the lottery and wants to give me 50% of his winnings. Yippee.

Have a groovy Monday.

Welcome To The Sour Puss Clinic

Many years ago I went through a sleep study and was diagnosed with sleep apnea. I was given a CPAP to help me sleep better. I used it for about 6 months then I got sick with pneumonia and had to stop using it until I was better -- but I never got back in the habit. I decided that I wanted to use it again -- it really helped give me more energy when I wasn't waking up every 3 minutes because I stopped breathing.

I called the clinic where I had the study and said I wanted to come in and have my machine checked and get new supplies. Well, of course, I had to see a doctor first.

Yesterday I went to my appointment. I don't know if it's something in the air ducts but I have never met such cranky people in my life. The nurse asked me why I was there. I told her "I haven't used my machine in years and want to start using it again." Then she snaps at me "Well then use it." I tried to explain that I wanted the machine checked but before I could finish my sentence she snaps again "Why aren't you using it?" I almost smacked her. I can only guess that 1) she has no smile muscles in her face so why bother being pleasant 2) she was terribly constipated or 3) she was having a horrible day and the best way to make it better was to yell at the patients.

Finally she left the room and said the doctor would be in. Well in comes a doctor who 1) has no smile muscles in her face so why .... you get the picture. She sat down and asked me the same questions the nurse asked me and then said "I think we better have you come in and do a new sleep study." I replied "No. It costs too much money." Well you could tell that, like most doctors, she was not use to someone saying no to her. Who did I think I was? The owner of the body? A person? No, I was a puppet to be manipulated by her because she had an M.D.

So when I said no, and she got over the shock, she announced that I could just do a home study. It wasn't as accurate but it was pretty close. Ha! She gave away the dirty little secret -- there is an alternative to the thousands of dollars study.

I have to wonder why do these people go into the medical profession if they seem to not like people? I mean why not become an accountant or a grave digger or a clerk at the Department of Motor Vehicles?

My First Wedding

With all the ads about Father's Day I got to thinking about my dad. This is one of my favorite pictures of him and me. For one thing you can see the resemblance in our smiles and for another it has a great memory behind it.

It was taken the night I went to my first wedding. I had wanted to see a wedding for a long time so when my Grandpa's nephew was getting married I was invited to go with him and my Grandma.

I got all dressed up and even had white gloves to match my white patent leather shoes. For weeks before the wedding my mom kept telling me that I had to be quiet at the wedding; that I couldn't talk at the wedding. Over and over again she told me this. I have no idea why she felt the need to keep telling me this -- okay I have a pretty good idea why she was telling me this. I was a little chatterbox.

So the day of wedding I was so excited. We got to the church and while the usher seated my grandma on his arm, my grandpa gave me his arm to hold. I felt like a princess. When the bridesmaids came down the aisle I remember thinking there sure were a lot of brides. Well as the actual bride came down the aisle my grandpa leaned down to say something to me and I said, in a rather loud voice, "Shut up grandpa." I guess my mom had forgotten to tell him that he couldn't talk during the wedding. Good thing grandpa had a fantastic sense of humor.

When The Cards Turn Against You

Here is a  picture of a total stranger, let's call her Madame X, who wants me to tell you about her addiction but wants to remain anonymous. This is her story:

It all started when she got an iPad. Certainly a fun item and very useful in the right hands but when it gets into the wrong hands it can become the tool of the devil. You see she made the mistake of putting Solitaire on this iPad. A harmless little game for most but for Madame X it was like giving crack to a well known singer who was in a movie with Kevin Costner. Well it started out with one game ... no problem red on black, black on red, four aces just waiting to be reunited with their respective suit but then it turned ugly.

One game led to another and another and another until Madame X lost control. Just one more game, she would mutter, but she knew it would be two, three, 15 more games. She couldn't stop. If she lost a game she just had to try again. If she won a game she was on a streak and no one quits when they're on a streak. It was insanity I tell you...INSANITY.

Then last night she selected STATS by mistake and up came a screen that displayed now only how many games she had played, but how much time she had spent playing those games. I won't reveal those numbers because I'm, I mean Madame X, is appalled and slightly embarrassed at the results. But it occurred to Madame X that before she complains about not having time to get everything she wants to do done, she should consider getting the Solitaire monkey off her back.

So Madame X has gone cold turkey -- she's deleted Solitaire from the iPad and checked herself into the Milton Bradley Clinic to try to reclaim her life from those little red and black demons.

Good luck Madame X --- you'll need it.

Happy Birthday Sienna

My friend Geri is a Grandma. This is a picture of her daughter Natalie and her granddaughter Sienna. When Geri heard that her daughter was in labor she jumped on a plane and flew to California to be there with her. And she got there just in time. She was talking to Natalie's husband at the hospital and he asked where are you and she said down the hall. Natalie heard her and started crying she was so happy her mom was there.

Natalie and Robert have gone through a lot in their short time together. He was diagnosed with cancer before they got married but they didn't let that stop them. They went ahead with the wedding and when they were told that the chances of them having a baby was almost 0% then this little miracle arrived.

I'm so happy for Geri, Natalie, and Robert. They have a lot of joy ahead of them.

I sent them a gift via their Target registry. You can include a card and I wrote something like your daughter will be a joy and blessing until she reaches puberty -- that's a bitch. Well the Target site said I couldn't send that message because it contained an obscenity. I didn't realize 1) bitch is an obscenity and 2) Target is a frigid old lady. Oh well, I reworded the note and Target was happy and I was properly chastised.