…when plastic lids were first used on coffee cans? Or when zippers came into common usage, specifically in denim overalls? Were either of those present or in common usage in the late 1940s to mid 1950s?
I was reading a book that was okay overall…but the mention of those two items above seemed anachronistic.
Just wondering…
*I’m sitting at the public library while my daughter is at a community function. Often I’ll go sit down at the pier and just read…but it’s too hot and humid right now.
*There’s a tremendous storm coming. I’m sitting by a window on the second floor of the library, and have been watching this huge, dark line of thundering clouds ponderously but surely coming this direction. The front edge of the clouds has a long, wavy white line marking it. Nasty, nasty looking against the black roiling mass behind it. I might want to reconsider sitting right by the window.
*What is it with the teachers’ union in Wisconsin wanting Viagra on their insurance plan? The district can hire 12 teachers for what it costs to cover that prescription. And aren’t most teachers women? So doesn’t that mean it’s probably mostly the spouses that want the Viagra? Maybe they could compromise by only covering it only for actual employees? But still…times are tough for everyone. My insurance premiums are up about 5 times what it was when I started, with less coverage. Sex is great…but money for food on the table and a roof over the head kind of takes precedence…
*Will 2012 get here fast enough? I would be happy to see Barry Sotero gone…but even happier just to have Nancy P lose her speaker-ship. I would pay good money to see that meltdown. Surely someone would tape that and put it on youtube?
*The windows next to me are creaking as the wind picks up. This is a really old building. It was old when I went to it as a child. There are also a lot of homeless people that come here when the weather gets bad. They mostly play games on the computers. In looking around, I also realize I’m probably the only female patron on the second floor (where all the computers are). Meh. There is one woman down in the parking lot…screaming. Screaming with her kids as they dodge raindrops while running for their car. Better than the man down there earlier who was screaming into his phone. He had on a red-checked kheffiyeh. But since he was screeching in ghetto-anglo, I don’t think I had to worry about a jihad.
*The storm is about to pass over…all bluster and no bite. Lots of hot air blowing around and rumbling noise, but everything will be okay shortly. Please dear God let that be synonymous with the Obama administration and its effect on our country.
*I guess I’ll go back to Facebook now and annoy my kids. Isn’t grand how technology can bring a family together!
I rarely ‘not’ finish a book. It has to be pretty bad for me to put it down and walk away from it. I only threw away one book that I can recall.
I would like to throw away one I just (partially) read, except that it’s from the library. Then I’d have to pay for the frikken thing, and I’m not about to do that.
The storyline is about a pandemic bird-flu and a family’s efforts to survive. Basic enough apocalyptic stuff, right?
Except this author was a total ditz. I think she’s from the big city and has no clue about life in suburbia.
One of her characters is an art teacher. Who when the fire alarm goes off, takes the time to find out who the line leader is, lets them slowly line up, and gets outside leaving a child behind. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Then runs back in going all the way around to the front to get back in. And then she’s praised as a heroine for rescuing the child she left behind!!!!
This same teacher left in the middle of the school day to go to the post office. Yeah, right. I’d LOVE a teaching job where I had enough of a break to be able to do that…aside from the fact you usually can’t leave campus during class hours. But maybe this author lives in the big city where a post office can be very close by…although this story was set in suburbia, meaning a drive to most places. Then when this character gets back from the post office, the office is empty because everyone is in a meeting in the cafeteria. Again, total bullshit. Someone is ALWAYS in the office, or at the very least the front door and office door is locked.
At this assembly, it is announced to the whole school about the Health Department closing the school indefinitely (because of the bird flu). Again, this is not the way a serious matter is handled. Something that important isn’t announced blandly to elementary school kids. (We didn’t even tell our students about 9-11 the day it happened. When there are hurricanes heading our way, automated calls go to the parents and notes are sent home.)
And then what pissed me off enough to close the book was when the woman asked if she liked teaching, and she said to the affect of ‘it’s okay, but it wasn’t doing‘. Fuck you.
The book sat there a day after that. And then I picked it up again, deciding the author just simply didn’t research with actual teachers, and just assumed she knew more than she did. She did appear to have good research about the spread of the flu, so I would try again.
I read a few more chapters. The flu has spread, there are shortages of food and water. But somehow internet and electricity and water are all working just perfectly! What I couldn’t figure out was why the family was so intent on buying bottled water. When the outbreak started happening, the water supply was still fine…start storing up water at home. Nope, they couldn’t do that.
Then a serious winter storm hit with about two feet of snow and the power went out. So they started cooking their meat so it wouldn’t spoil. SERIOUSLY???? You have tons of snow outside, and you couldn’t keep packing the freezer with that? Or hell, even store it outside in the sub-freezing temperatures?
I was done with the book at that point. I hoped they all died in the epidemic so their genes of stupidity wouldn’t be passed on. But dammit, I peeked at the end and the stupid bitch was still alive.
Thank God I didn’t pay for this inanity. Total stupidity. I can’t wait to get this book out of my house and back to the library. That kind of stupidity can be catching, and I don’t want it spreading here at the HoZ. We have enough of our own without adding to it.
So…do you finish a book even if it’s stupid?
…for pretty shoes and sandals to be made in wide widths? Well, IS IT?
I can’t tell you how many shoe stores I went to today at the outlet mall. I was even prepared to pay big bucks if necessary…but nobody is carrying wide shoes!
It’s very frustrating. I’m running out of shoes to wear…I might resort to fuzzy slippers with everything because I can’t find shoes that fit me. Well, I COULD wear athletic shoes with all my school and church dresses…NOT! My stocky German peasant ancestry is showing in my feet…maybe I ought to claim racism and bias or some-such and have the shoe companies give me reparations in dozens of pretty new shoes!
They don’t have to be fancy…even just a simple sandal…
And if that weren’t depressing enough, the bathroom at the outlet mall had a mirror on the opposite wall of the toilet. (Yes, it was the handicapped stall. I hate how teeny-tiny most regular stalls are…who wants to stand against the damn public toilet just to get the door opened…it’s gross!!! And who the hell’s idea was it to put the toilet paper dispenser so close to the floor…are they expecting midgets in these stalls or what???!!!) But while as I was sitting there taking care of business, I looked up and saw in the mirror…Jabba the Hut’s little sister. I don’t expect to look like a model at my age…but jeez…it was depressing.
It’s been a rough day today. Kid issues, life issues, work issues…I met BR for lunch because I so desperately had to get away from things. I had a Japanese beer while he ate…usually alcohol hits me quickly, but I was so upset I didn’t feel any effect at all. So I went shopping instead. I did find two outfits, but no shoes, as mentioned above.
*sigh*
And on top of it all, Goob and Little Miss may be finding out how rushing into things and hoping love (and sex) makes everything better are finding out the realities of international law. It seems in her precipitate return to Korea, they forgot to check the realities of visas and international laws. She can stay 90 days before she has to leave the country (I think…that’s what I found just in a five-minute search of the internet). If she wanted to stay longer, it sounds like she should have applied for the appropriate visa BEFORE she re-entered Korea. Of course, they’re not telling us much of anything (although I can tell by sitemeter that they’re stopping by here…I guess looking for reasons to be mad at us. *sigh*) I hate that they’re having to go through all that stress, but they just *had* to be together. *shakes head*
So here I sit, sipping my diet drink, getting depressed about life, the universe and everything…
If only I had some pretty new sandals…I would feel better…
O.M.G. Woke up at 2:00AM and had to run to the bathroom. And I’ve been vomiting ever since…AND the other end decided it didn’t want to be left out of the fun. I swear, Torquemada couldn’t have devised a more heinous torture.
BR has never seen me this sick. I’ve only seen me this sick when I was pregnant…and then it was only coming out of the top end. Pure misery. The fetal position was the only way I could lay and not set off another wave of cramps that would, in turn, set off another run to the bathroom.
It doesn’t appear food-related. Everyone who ate what I did hasn’t gotten sick (and please, dear God, let it stay that way!).
Okay, enough grossness…but it’s been pure misery today. Especially since it was Report Card day…and the report cards were here with me, 25 miles from the school. As were my lesson plans, since I had brought them home on Friday to prepare. And I was too miserable to call a sub…but fortunately, my grade level team is the BEST in the world. I know I could depend on them, especially Mrs. T. Thank you sweetie! You’re an angel.
Now…now it’s time to plod back to the bathroom and throw curses at Torquemada.
Heard a commercial on the radio recently. It started out talking about the unusual and extended cold weather and the effect it has had. How it means that more of our northern visitors are staying longer because of it. So that means increased traffic, and thus more accidents. Due to these circumstances, please consider donating blood because the supplies are low.
Seriously. The local blood bank is blaming the Snowbirds for the low blood supply.
Blood-sucking vampires. The lot of them.
*We know it’s not all our northern friends. Just the arrogant assholes who come and belittle our culture, clog the restaurants by keeping the wait staff running and not leaving tips, eat all the free food at the Churches pot-lock suppers, and sucking our blood.
Just for QW for her comment:
(Language Alert! But since it’s South Park, you should already know that!)
Okay…before you watch this, just understand it has BAD language. NSFW, small children, or pets. And it was made by some French dudes, with their stereotypical snobbery about Americans.
But…I always suspected the Mr. Clean thing…and Ronald McDonald??? I TOLD you clowns are evil!
(more…)
Just how many emails should one have? I have one for work, one for home, one for my blog, one for Facebook, and at least four others that I use for ‘anonymous’ commenting and/or using to comment on newspaper-type articles. And the other day, while going through some paperwork, I found another one I had forgotten about.
People used to be sent to the funny-farm for having that many identities.
It’s not the world I grew up in. I was thinking this morning that my kids have never experienced a full-service gas station. Or had the passion of waiting for Saturday morning to watch the cartoons (which I had to miss the three years I was in non-parochial school, because it meant I had to go to CCD on Saturday morning). Or being able to be gone in the neighborhood all day and no one had to worry. Or having to wait until Christmas to see ‘Rudolph’ and ‘Frosty’ and the like.
My grandparents would not recognize this world. And often, I simply don’t want to recognize it. Eight friggin’ emails. Why?
Hellacious week so far. Haven’t really had the weekend off since I worked at my school Saturday morning, and spent most of the remaining hours working on a very irritating but necessary huge mound of paperwork for an upcoming meeting.
Had a meeting today after school, and will have yet another one on Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. And, oh yeah, my classroom is being painted this week. At least two days physically out of the classroom, with the days before and after involved with having all my stuff moved around. REAL conducive to a good learning environment, hunh?
I want a drink, but am headed for the treadmill.
I’m tired already.
Warning: Brief instance of adult language.
Our school district’s web-site was hacked today. By folks claiming to be Turkish Muslims.
When I saw the site come up, I wanted to yell out, “Durka Durka Mohammend Jihad!!”
But the kids would have looked at me funny.
So…was this the threat that Iran promised for today? Taking down our educational system one web site at a time? More power to them. God (not Allah) knows our whole educational system needs a revamp anyway. They could be doing us a favor.
Joe: One of the terrorists is trying to tell us something.
[looks through binoculars]
Gary Johnston: [waving the distress signal towards Joe and Chris] It’s me! It’s me!
Joe: Looks like he’s saying, “Kiss me! Kiss me!”
Chris: Smart-ass motherfucker!
[fires missile at terrorist jeep]
While running errands today I came across a panhandler. I only had a few bucks on me, but sighed and passed two bucks out to the guy while waiting at the light. Some time later I was sitting in a parking lot listening to my b-i-l on the phone. You don’t have to talk much when he’s on a roll. So instead of just sitting there while he chattered on, I grabbed an empty shopping bag and began cleaning up my car. After a few moments, I leaned over to see if there was any trash between the passenger seat and the console. And there, wedged by the base, was a crumpled $20 bill.
Yay me!
Have you EVER thought that maybe, JUST maybe, your selfish behavior against your ex is affecting your child? That your desire to prove you are the better parent is FORCING your child to chose between two people he loves?
And your desire to show that you are the better and more fun parent by keeping the child home from school if he even sniffs twice is keeping him from learning? Or that your child in all likelihood DOES have a learning disability that can’t be tested because of his excessive absences? The school is technically unable to rule out the absences as a source of the problem…so therefore your child could be falling behind not only because of the absences, but because of an undiagnosed learning disorder. But you have effectively tied our hands in helping your child.
And to the other parent who uses each and every opportunity to tell the child that the first parent is screwing him up…does that make the child hate the other parent? No, you’re making the child hate himself because he will now think he’s screwed up.
Way to go parents. Because you hate and despise each other, you are screwing up a beautiful child who has such potential and creative ability. If you both continue like this, the child won’t be labeled with a learning disability. Nope. He’ll get labeled as ‘EH’. What is ‘EH’? Emotionally Handicapped. Isn’t that a great label for a child?
You’re both pretending you’re trying to do what’s best for your child. All you’re doing is taking cheap shots at each other…but your child is on the receiving end of ALL those poisoned arrows, straight to his heart.
You have pissed me off, parents. Stop using your child to hurt the other parent. I’m only allowed by regulations to do and say certain things. But I wish you could see yourselves through his eyes. You would see a scared little child who only wants to love both his parents without worrying that love for one hurts the other.
Stupid parents. I’m sure you’ll still be pointing fingers at each other if your child grows up to be a dysfunctional adult. But if I run into you then, it will be my opportunity to tell you it’s a shame that his potential was lost because of the both of you. I hope to God that somehow, someway, I won’t have to say that.
I often have the tv on while I’m on computer. My computer is on the opposite wall, thus my back is towards the tv. Usually it’s not too bad…I have a pretty good imagination, so I can visualization what I need to as I listen.
Until today. Heard a new commercial for what I thought was ‘Ass Effects’. WTH???? Is it for colon cleansing? Constipation medication? Liposuction? Exercise machines? And how the heck can they say ‘ass’ on before prime-time television?
So I had to turn around…it’s ‘aciphex’. For acid reflux. I really wonder about the way they name medicines. Have you ever heard of ‘Premarin’? It’s hormone therapy for menopausal women. It’s made from pregnant mare’s urine. No thanks, I’ll take my hormone replacement therapy from Jack. Daniels, that is. And I’ll let my ass take care of itself.
Every time I see the movie ‘Rudy‘, I wind up crying at the end.
Maybe it’s just the empathy for another short person. Or maybe it was tears of excitement today because Princess No said she would consider going to Notre Dame. I just can’t keep bugging her about it, she said.
Shhh!
Static electricity.
Static electricity is something we rarely have to worry about down here. But these continuous low temps and driving winds have sapped most of our normal high humidity. The kids at school are, for the first time in their memories, experiencing shocks after they get out of their plastic chairs and touch the metal sides of their desks. (It’s kind of funny to watch, actually! Yeah, I get my thrills where I can.) But, we turned to our science books and looked up information about static electricity. Usually, you can’t even do the experiment with rubbing a balloon against your hair and sticking it to the wall…it’s too humid.
I washed some sheets today, and as I made the bed I heard the crackle of static electricity. And I used fabric softener! My fleece blanket is in the wash right now, and it definitely will get a dryer sheet.
Princess No managed to get a shock when she turned off her light last night, and managed to see a blue spark in her darkened room.
I don’t care about all this scientific study, however. I want my normal winter of highs in the high 50s and low 60s, and lows in the 40s.
I’m a winter wimp, and I admit it.
Although one day I would like to take a horse-drawn sleigh ride. And make a snowman. A life-sized snowman, not a foot-and a-half sized snowman we are occasionally able to make. And it takes every bit of snow that falls in the yard to make one even that size.
And I would really, really, like to be able to do something like this.
While I’ve been trying to clean and sort through things, I’ve had the tv on for background noise. There’s been a ‘Dirty Jobs’ marathon today. Currently, there’s an episode on how feather pillows get made. I’ve never been fond of feather pillows…and now, there’s no way. There are images in my mind of a denuded bird flipping over a roller and hitting Mike Rowe…or his holding a decapitated goose head.
Nah, no feather pillows for me. They’d give me Kafka dreams.
That’s all that separates the country’s best water from the country’s worse water.
Does that make sense?
I live in the area with the best water, and work in the area with the worst.
I don’t notice a bit of difference. And given a choice, I’d drink Pensacola water before I’d drink water from say…Midland, TX. OMG, that water there is the WORST! It smells like it’s wafting from hell as it comes out of the tap, and tastes as if brimstone had been stirred into it.
And then there was southern Illinois water. Not as bad as Midland water, but it was hard for me to get used to having to have a ‘softener’ for the water. And the residue it left on the glasses! Yuck.
Seriously, however…I’m glad I have bottled water at work. I did that before the study came out. And my folks still live there, but they do filter their water. But a mere 24 miles from great to unsafe…makes me glad to live in a rural part of the country. It’s an inconvenience sometimes…but more and more it’s proving to be worth it.
And I like the idea of living near farms when the economy seriously goes tits-up…instead of being in the city where mayhem could so seriously reign.
Okay, as long as where on the subject of water, here’s one of my favorite water videos:
I just came back from *gasp* Wal-Mart. On Black Friday, nonetheless.
Hmmph. More like grey. The crowds were less than a ‘normal’ trip to Wal-Mart. The aisles were cleared of the usual clutter. It was actually a pleasant trip. Especially since I was picking up some eggnog. Buck had drank the eggnog we had been planning to have (with some alcoholic addition) later on tonight. Oh, he left about a tablespoon so he couldn’t be blamed for ‘drinking it all’. The kid can’t understand that eggnog and milk and the like are not for drinking when you’re extremely thirsty. Of course, he won’t drink when he starts getting thirsty because it means getting up from watching TV. He waits until I call him to do a chore, and then discovers he needs to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom. Which he proceeds to do before accomplishing his chore. *sigh*
Which led to BR turning off the satellite service to the TV in the living room (we don’t have TVs in any of our bedrooms). Poor kid. He’s 14, and dying to get his learner’s permit in April when he turns 15. He doesn’t understand that if doesn’t show responsibility without being prompted, he won’t get to drive. Stomping around when asked to do a chore that’s an everyday requirement is not maturity. Sleeping on a bare mattress because you’re too lazy to put on the sheets is not a sign of maturity. Not washing your hands after you use the bathroom (and our bedroom is right next to the bathroom…we can hear if there’s no sink noises…just a toilet flushing…we know you didn’t wash your hands) is laziness and gross.
*sigh* Which is why it was so important to do what we did with his big brother last week. You can’t have responsibility to others if you don’t show responsibility for yourself. Life will really suck for you if you don’t learn that responsibility=maturity, and the privileges that go with maturity will never be gained in any other way.
The rain has started.
And it’s cold.
Weirdest damn hurricane/tropical storm I’ve ever been in.
Maybe we’ll get Tuesday off, as well as Wednesday for Veteran’s Day.
The denizens of the HoZ are officially a Nielsen family this week.
Yep, we have an impact in what you’ll be watching in the future.
Heh. You’re worried, aren’t you?
Count on a lot of sci-fi and comedies in the future. ‘Cause that’s just how we roll here.
Of course, with it being Halloween, there are a lot of horror-related flicks on the air waves. Which we don’t like or watch at all.
Come to think of it, there may be ‘nothing’ on in the future if it’s based on our viewing habits, because the tv is off way, way more than it is on.
Consider it a gift.
Aside from their liberal slant (both the paper AND the tv station), they can’t report news correctly.
A school had to be evacuated this morning. Early news reports said that a ‘white suspect’ was found in the school’s walk-in refrigerator, but he was ‘harmless’.
??????WTH??????
Come to find out, it was a harmless, white SUBSTANCE…not a harmless, white suspect.
Stupid reporters.
Does anybody else find it disturbing that the new voice-over for the Burger King commercial…is the same guy on Forensic Files?
Doesn’t that just add a creepiness factor? Would you want to eat at a place where the guy promoting it also talks about…dead people?
And if you’ve ever watched Forensic Files, you know what I mean. There are times when the guy is narrating FF, and you hear…excitement…in his voice.
All I know is, I can’t bring myself to eat at BK any time soon.
My previous post involved a bit of arachnophobia. In general, I really do not mind spiders, because they keep down the bug population. As long as they’re out of the way where I can’t walk into them or ride through them…I leave them alone and they leave me alone.
Case in point: The picture below is from the corner of our carport. One of those banana spiders (better known as Golden Orb Spiders). See those little spiders in the upper right? Those are the males. They like their ladies big, apparently.
But that big lady can stay, hussy though she may be, because she has kept away the carpenter bees that have tried to eat our carport.
I’m doing a lot of sewing, and I usually leave the tv on as background noise. But when I saw what was coming on today…the great circus show known as Michael Jackson’s funeral….it’s why I pulled out a season of ‘Babylon 5′ and popped it into the DVD player. I don’t want to accidentally be flipping through channels and come across the travesty of twisted fame and psychological trauma. I’m sorry for his family and friends. BUT…what does it say about our society that the funeral of a disturbed man is so important that it must be broadcast to the whole world? Why are people so divorced from their own reality that they need exposure of someone else’s mental nudity to satisfy some sense of psychological masturbation?
Funerals are tough enough as it is when it’s a real loved one who has died. But the people who are so worked up and teary-eyed about MJ seem as nothing more than voyeurs peering at a man who was used and abused, who abused himself and others around him. Such a crock all the way around.
My grandfather’s wisdom has now been backed by scientific research. He hated for anyone to be skinny. He always reasoned that if someone got really sick, they would need those ‘fat reserves’ to help get them through the illness. Plus I think Granddaddy liked curves…especially on Grandmommie, who was ‘fat’ in all the right places.
Now scientists are saying that chubby people live longer. 
Take that, you skinny old bitches! Whoops, can’t say ‘old’ because you won’t be around, mwah-haa-haa-haaaa! Just pass me that cheesecake you won’t be eating…
BR was sitting at his computer, ostensibly paying a credit card bill online. Then he started chuckling. Not a humorous type of laugh…no, his twisted, evil laugh when he’s done something un-PC. Warily, I asked him what he was doing.
BR: Oh, I’m just paying off this statement.
Me: And it’s funny because…
BR: Well, it only has two items on it. Your recent surgery and my new pistol (which is really sweet, btw!).
Me: And what could possibly be funny about paying hundreds of dollars like that?
BR: *Giggling maniacally again.* ‘Cause I just paid for a cooter and a shooter!!!
Me:
Me:
Me: *Leaving the room before I throw something at him.*
Hey, folks! It’s me, Mrs. Who. *waves weakly* I’m doing okay. When I’m up I feel like sleeping, and when I lay down, I feel like getting up. *sigh* But I’m not in any pain…so no drugs. I really do hate having to take meds.
BR was wonderful yesterday. At one point, I was ready to up and leave…hospital gown and all. But he kept reassuring me that it would be okay.
I love that man, even though he can be crude…if you read yesterday’s post, you know what I mean. Even if the description was accurate…WARNING! FEMALE MEDICAL STUFF ABOUT TO BEGIN! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! Yes, the doctor had to scrape out the lining of my uterus…I hadn’t realized she would be doing that, and when the nurse tried to get me to sign the consent form, I balked and almost wanted to leave. But the doctor came over and explained it was part of the procedure because she wanted to have the lining checked for any possible cancer. Otherwise, early evidence could be destroyed and she didn’t want to take that risk. Then they would insert the mesh that would be heated up with RF energy to prevent future bleeding. So I signed the form and then was whisked away. They got me on the operating table, and the anesthesiologist told me he would start the drugs that would put me out, and I might feel a slight burning going up my arm. I thought to myself, “I’d better say some prayers,” and started the ‘Our Father’…and I think I made it most of the way through the ‘Hail Mary’, but I’m not sure. Next thing, I was waking up, thirsty as hell.
BR fed me ice chips. I was kind of dozing in and out and slightly nauseous, but I remember the doctor coming over and saying everything went great, and I may get one or two more cycles. But then…then I should be period-free the rest of my life! OMG, HAPPY DANCE TIME!!! It’s not 100% guaranteed, but the doctor said it’s a very good chance because of how everything looked. But at the very least, I shouldn’t have the heavy flow problems that I had been having.
OKAY GUY-FOLKS, YOU CAN START READING AGAIN HERE…HERE’S WHERE I GET NEKKID!!! So, at last I’m released to go home. The nurse wheels me out and we go through this hot, airless corridor. I’ve never been good at dealing with stifling heat, and my stomach started churning. Then we made it into the airless, shaky elevator. It was too much. In the previous post BR said that I tried to avoid throwing up on him or the nurse. Now, I’m kind, but not that generous. What I was doing was throwing up in the little pink, kidney-shaped bowl I had been given. BUT…it overflowed and went down my shirt and into my lap. By that time, the elevator had opened up and BR had gotten the car. The nurse asked me if I wanted to go back in and change, but there was NO WAY IN HELL that I was going back through that rickety elevator or airless hallway.
So…I opened the car door, faced in, and changed. The nurse held the towel behind me. I don’t know if I flashed anyone, and if BR is smart, he won’t tell me anyway. I do remember making the comment about showering with 50 women, although I hope I did say it was in the National Guard at boot camp, so the nurse won’t think I’m too weird. A little weird, maybe.
So we finally went on our way. I’m sure the nurse had a great story to tell when she went back in, bless her heart. I made it home, having BR only stopping once so I could throw up. In a church parking lot. I hope they’ll understand.
So, I’ve slept off and on. But less than 24 hours after the procedure, I’m pain-free. And very hopeful that the doctor has told Aunt Flo to stay the hell away!!! With relatives like that, who needs enemies, lol!
And thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. It’s nice to come home to find the well-wishes. Y’all are great! And so is my husband. I love you, BR!
I had no idea…Sean, I thought I loved you, and then I saw this:
"Masada Shall Not Fall Again"
(militarymotivator.blogspot.com)
