Friday, February 26, 2010

Could we have just the simple answer please?'s the deal.
My husband is brilliant. Now if you ever told him I said this, I'd have to kill you.
But it is true.
The problem is, he cannot give you a simple answer to anything.
Me: Oh, by the way, dear....Who was is that killed Lincoln?
Hubby: John Wilkes Booth.
Me: Okay.
Hubby: Did you know that John Wilkes Booth had brown hair and always wore white shirts. He had a younger brother who he never got along with and his parents were farmers.
Me: That's nice.
Hubby: And that after he shot Lincoln he had to walk through 6 miles of heavily wooded stands of pine trees and then across nearly 2 miles of open pasture land.
Me: Oh, really.
Hubby: And when he finally came across Dr. Mudd's farmhouse, it was nearly two in the morning and he had lost almost two pints of blood. He was disoriented and nearly fainted on the doorstep.
Me: Okay.
Hubby: And Dr. Mudd who initially greeted him, was reluctant to treat him be he felt compelled by his Hippocratic oath to take in the wounded stranger.
Me: (eyes glazing over) Uh huh.
Hubby: And that Booth did not actually die of the gunshot wound but from the infection that set in nearly two days later.

It continues this way. You get it.

Now here is my concern.

A good friend of ours has finally decided that he is going to buy his first computer.
He was excited.
He called the other day and told us he was going to buy a laptop and he asked hubby for help.
Not so much in buying the computer but getting set up and getting on the internet and learning his way around.
Which is fine.


Here is my concern.
Hubby cannot give you a simple answer to anything.
Even if he does not know all the details, he will find some way to elaborate and make it more complicated than it has to be.
And as smart as he is, he is NOT a computer genius.

I heard him talking to our friend on the phone the other day.
He was giving him elaborate, complicated advice about Internet Explorer and HotMail and G-Mail and trojan horses and viruses and firewalls and spyware and bots and screen size and different fonts and navigating the internet by using Wi-fi sites.

And I could just see our friend's eyes beginning to glaze over.

My advice to him would have been:

Go to Best Buy.
Pick out a laptop that is in your price range that you like.
Choose a service provider, preferably DSL.
Ask the nice people at Best Buy to set up AOL for you and take you computer home with you, ready to go. Install McAfee.
Log on to AOL.
Start surfing around. Bring your computer to our house if you want.
Have fun. Ask questions and learn as you go.
Get help if you need it.


Thursday, February 25, 2010

Why can't I just talk to my doctor?

I am a very unhappy camper tonight.

Now, I will be the first to admit. I hate going to the doctor.

I will avoid it at all costs and do everything I can to not go.

I don't have anything against doctors personally.

I know they are generally sincere, very hardworking and dedicated.

They do the best they can.

And if you have an emergency with something they can actually FIX like my broken ankle last summer, they are certainly nice to have around.

But my question is this:
Why can't I just talk to my doctor?

Have you ever seen the Viagra commercials where the guy is sitting at a desk in a nice big office, relaxed and fully dressed, discussing his need for Viagra?

And they stand up and shake hands and all his questions are answered.
They are both smiling.

He's happy.
The doctor is happy.
Everyone is happy.

I am not happy.

Now I have lots of issues and questions and concerns lately
That I've had for a while and I thought I was ready to discuss them with my doctor.
That I would like to be able to sit down in a nice big office with my doctor, relaxed at his desk.

I'd like to be fully dressed and not embarrassed, without nurses and PA's waltzing around.
just want to talk and ask questions about the things that are bothering me.

But I went to my doctor's office this morning.
To get some lab work done.
And it is so painfully obvious that something like that is NEVER going to happen.

The place was a zoo.
There were patients everywhere.
The lab was backed up.

I saw my doctor and he was literally scampering (he couldn't actually break into a run) down the hall to see his next patient out of......maybe 6 or 8 he had to see.

And he didn't know who he was going to see until he grabbed the chart out of the rack on the door.

He said hello to me.

He even answered a question that I had (and I did an end run around the nurse to ask him).

But he was frantically busy.

He could barely take a breath.

And I want to him to take the time to "talk" with me.
Ha. Who am I kidding?
My annual physical is in a couple of weeks.

And I don't even want to go.

Because here is how it will go:
Nurse:Follow me to the exam room.
Nurse: Take off all your clothes.
Nurse: Get your height weight and vital signs.

Me: Sit there uncomfortably in this little grey room wearing a crumpled paper gown for oh, say......15 or 20 minutes.

Doctor comes in.

Him: How are you? Me: Fine

Him: Everything okay? Me: Yeah

Him: Any changes? Me: No

Him: Your medicine okay? Me: Yeah

Him: Is there anything you need? Me: Not really.

Him: Okay, lie down, let me have a look.

Him: Okay see you next year.

No nice big desk.
No clean comfortable office.
No relaxed atmosphere.
No reassuring talk.

Just a rushed 30 minute visit with quick answers, tests that I don't want or need and a vaguely dissatisfied, uncomfortable feeling after I leave.

I don't want to go.
I guess the only doctor you actually get to "talk" to is a psychiatrist.

Friday, February 19, 2010

OH NO Not another dead cat!!

Well, sadly, yet another kitty cat has died.
She was our little calico cat.
She was pretty old and sickly and recently she quit eating so I knew she wouldn't be around very long.
But she had a long life and it was just her time.
When we got back from the RV show late yesterday, she didn't come up on the deck for dinner.
She'd been MIA for a while and I knew that was it.
Hubby found her under the deck and she was very, very dead.
We had a quick little funeral for her.
She was a sweet, gentle kitty.
And of course.....I had to call CrazyFriend (the crazy cat lady) and deliver the sad news.
She was very upset and wanted to take the dead cat to Clemson University for an "autopsy".
I knew that was coming (which is why we buried the cat and THEN told her.
I didn't want her coming out here, wrapping the cat up in tinfoil and then driving around with it until she could find some unsuspecting vet to do and "autopsy" so she could know why the cat died.
I just wasn't in the mood for that.
Dead is dead.
Hasn't she ever heard of "Rest In Peace"???????
SO sad.
RIP Little Calico Kitty.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Snow is like an ugly woman....

Snow is like that last-ditch desperation date that you pick up at a bar when you're really, really drunk and it's getting close to closing time.

It gets prettier and prettier as the evening goes on.

It doesn't seem all that bad for a little while.

It's actually beautiful for about 15 minutes.

Then you realize what a mess it's making of your life.

And when you want it to go away, it always stays around just a little too long.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Snow Cliches: Been There Done That

Well, we had 5 inches of snow last night. That's right.....5 inches.
It started at about 6:00 last night, right after dinner and it snowed all night.
It was actually very pretty. Big, fluffy white flakes.
Every my grumpy husband thought it was pretty and wanted to walk outside in it for a little while. That was most unlike him.
And this morning, it was GORGEOUS.
It was piled up on the trees and it was clean and white and pristine.
I wasn't sure of what our little dog was going to think of it.
She is usually pretty cold natured and the snow was literally up to her chest.
But she was a very good sport.
The first few times, we took her out under one of the sheds to pee but she didn't seem to care.
She wanted to go out and PLAY.
So I let her.
I took her sweater off her and let her go.
She bounced and ran and had a wonderful time.
I was very surprised.
I thought sure she was going to make a beeline for the door but she bounced through the snow all the way to the road.
And she decided she was going to dig and burrow as well.
It was funny.
But now, she is all curled up under her blankets, sound asleep.
CrazyFriend wanted to come over "to take snow pictures" but I strongly discouraged her from driving if it wasn't necessary.
She had plenty of snow at her house she could take pictures of.
I fed the birds lots of extra bird seed and peanut butter.
They seemed quite grateful for the extra rations.
Even the great big crows were up here looking for a snack.
I threw out some extra cracked corn for them.
I bought 50 lbs of it so there was plenty to go around.
It's too cold for anyone to go hungry.
Right now, I am starting to get into the "I'm so bored I could die.." mode.
I'm okay staying home and being idle for about.......4 or 5 hours tops and then I start to lose it.
I have been outside a couple of times trying to find things to do.
I tried shoveling some of the snow off the deck.
I swept the snow off the porch.
I cooked chicken for Cookie and the cats.
I did some laundry.
I made lunch (grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup)
After a while, I run out of things to do and I need to get out of here.
That's it for me.
The snow is pretty.
For a little while.
Right now.....the prettiness is wearing off.
I don't know if I will be able to get out tomorrow.
I certainly HOPE so.
I've had it.
I've said and done all the snow cliches.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010


Y'know, I've been thinking.
The world is supposed to end in 2012.
And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea.
I think about 2 more years is all I want of this.
I've thought about that for a long time.
Two more years is plenty.
I've had enough.
2012. It works for me.
I keep thinking over and over again that I'm gonna die when I'm 62, one way or another.
So why not take the entire world with me?
What difference would it make?
Screw the world.
It's a good timeline.
I'm fine with it.
I for one, am kinda hoping it actually happens that way.
I'd be ready.
Bring it on, 2012

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Can't you please just let it go?

Well, Crazyfriend is doing it to me again.

Here's the deal:
Crazyfriend cannot and will not let anything go. Ever. She clings to the past and wants everything to be the "way it was". And it's worse when something dies.

Her parents passed away several years ago. It was very traumatic for her and she is still feeling tremendous guilt. She never felt like she did enough to take care of them (even though she spent an entire 5 years of her life doing NOTHING but looking after them.) She wanted AUTOPSIES done on them (They were in their late 80's and the doctors just looked at her like she had just landed from Mars). She spent years in counseling which did no good whatsoever. She simply will not move forward with her life. She still keeps their ashes in the living room, which she has turned into a shrine with pictures and flowers and the fancy urns. (It's kinda creepy actually.)

She went through a very bad divorce about 5 years ago after 5 years of a miserably unhappy and unfortunate marriage. (She was just as much to blame as he was but that was never discussed). She still feels guilty and feels like it was her fault that she didn't do enough to hold it together. She would still like to talk to me about it but I won't go there.

She still talks about her BFF from high school (42 years ago) who committed suicide as if she is still there and wonders what she could have done differently.

And it gets worse when an animal dies.

That's where this story starts.

Whenevr an animal dies, Crazyfriend wants to have an "autopsy". She wants to know why it died. So she can help other people who have animals with the same problem/ She wants to write a book about it. She wants to write a pamphlet and send it to vets so they will now about the problem. (She never actually DOES any of these things but this is what she says she wants to do. ) She once kept a dead cat wrapped in foil in her freezer for almost a week before she could find a vet who would do a necropsy on a dead cat.

She picks up dead animals in the road and will carry them home in the trunk of her car to bury them because she feels it is undignifed and dispectful to be squashed roadkill. She has her little roadkill kit that she keeps in the trunk...a shovel, gloves, plastic bags. And she keeps the number of the Highway Depatment on speed dial on her cell phone if she sees an animal that is too big for her to pick up. She stops at the grocery store and looks at the "Lost Pet" bulletins and then if she sees a dead dog or cat in the road she stops and checks to see if it matches the desrciption of any lost animal she knows about.

So what is going on now?

Well, about 3 months ago one of our little kitty cats died. She had been sick for a long time so it was not unexpected and frankly, she went very peacefully. It was a cold rainy night, she was curled up in her box and she just went to sleep. End of story, right. Sad, the kitty died. Bye bye kitty. Hope you're happy in Kitty Heaven.

No such deal. Hubby and I went out in the morning and buried the kitty cat, the same as we would any of our pets. That's it. We had the $2.49 funeral (That's the top of the line around get a sheet wrapped around you and you get a nice little grave marker.). We have buried countless animals in just the same way and then it's over. It's done. Right> Wrong.

Crazyfriend was infuriated that I didn't call her when the cat died. It was 11:00 on a cold and rainy night for Pete's sake...what was she going to do? Rush out here?

AND she was totally undone when we told her we'd buried that cat. She wanted to take the cat to the Clemson University Agricultural Research Lab to try and get the vets there to do a necropy. And I mean she was UPSET...not just a little. She was totally upset.

NOW....she is convinced that I am creating my own little shrine to the dead kitty cat.

I promise you, I am not. But to Crazyfriend it apparently looks that way. And she just will not let it go. This is a dead CAT we are talking about. And she comes out with new flowers every couple of weeks. She planted a TREE in the cat's memory. She wants to plant flowers in the spring. It's a's not her granny.

I don't know. I will never convince CrazyFriend that this is NOT a little shrine to the memory of the dead cat. And she will simply not let go and move on. Even her therapist said that. She clings to the past, wallowingin guilt and sense of loss.

I know it doesn't hurt anything to put flowers out.

But it is a dead CAT that she won't let go of . Or anything else.

She needs a new and better therapist.

The pathology of this whole way of thinking seems overwhelming to me.

I want to move on with my life, not spend every minute wondering what I could have done differently to change how the past played out.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

When the house tells you to get out.......

It was raining yesterday.
No, not just raining.
It was pouring.
It was an all day, wipe out torrential downpour.
It was windy, cold and miserable.
But I could not stay inside.
This house is a dark, toxic cave.
And I realized yesterday that the less time I spend here, the better I feel.
(I frequently wonder if it has anything to do with the days that I wake up with a migraine.)
It was a miserable day.
And I was doing anything I could to stay outside.
And not just because I was bored (which I frequently am).
It was because this house is dark and dusty and cluttered and toxic.
There is no natural light.
I just needed to be outside.
I needed fresh air.
I needed daylight.
Now, I have been wanting to move.
I have been wanting to move to Florida.
And yesterday was a clincher.
There is nothing wrong with this house.
(Other than it being 30 years old and a dark, toxic cave).
It's paid for.
It's solid.
It's well built.
It's not haunted.
It's a good enough house.
But we just don't need all this anymore.
I guess it's true.
When the house tells you to get out, you should get out.