Tag Archives: Random

Talking Trash

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My cell phone went missing Monday evening.  After a couple hours of fussing over “what-the-hell-will-I-do-if-I-can’t-find-my-phone” I decided it would turn up if I didn’t try so hard to look for it.  I stopped looking because I’m so very optimistic about expecting happy endings.

That didn’t work.

So I went to my office the following day, filled with absolute certainty that by the time I got home I would find it.  That didn’t happen either.  Rats!

I hate to admit being dependent on a cell phone but alas, I am.  Really.  Dependent.  My virtual universe is loaded on my iPhone.  Pictures, applications, maps, appointments … the works.  Of course I could get another cell phone if this one was truly MIA forever.  But what a hassle!

After muttering to myself when I returned home from work  (and creeping the cats out in general) I decided to try a different search method.  I started calling my phone, room by room, from my land line in the house.  Called the bedroom.  No answer.  Called the basement.  No answer.  Went to the garage and called the car.  No answer.  No ringing.  No nothing.

Finally, I went to the kitchen and called.  Nothing.  However, the stovetop fan was on because I was trying to make dinner, so it turned it off to listen.  Oh yeah, I was expecting some friends over for dinner to watch American Idol and was also rushing around cleaning up at the last minute.  I’m the queen of multi-tasking … dinner, vacuuming, table setting, and cell phone searching.

But I digress.

Finally, FINALLY, I hear a muffled “ring ring” (like the old fashioned phones) coming somewhere near (or under) the sink.  OMG!  It’s in the trash can!

The trash can that is filled with the most god-awful, gross food crap you could imagine.

I grab a new trash bag and start pulling junk out of the trash can and into the new bag.  One by one, I pulled out chicken bones, which really excited the cats.  They gathered ’round me sitting on the floor, as if they wanted to help search.  Cats are such fake-out artists. I knew they were only interested in potentially plundering some chicken parts.  There were multiple other gross things discovered in that icky bag, including some leftover cake batter, that I had to maneuver around.  It was tricky business, indeed.

And let me just say that when you are exploring the contents of a trash bag and if you happen to come upon a lot of  discarded red velvet cake batter in a hasty manner, your kitchen is poised to look like an episode of Dexter doing what he does best.

I did just that and it wasn’t pretty.  Unless you like to watch autopsies.

I was praying to the patron saint of kitchen cleanup to help me find this stupid phone and restore my kitchen to glistening cleanliness before my friends show up and find me splayed out on the floor digging in the trash, looking like I lost my mind.  Which I probably had at that point.

But to my horror, I STILL couldn’t find the phone.

Now I have 2 big trash bags half filled with crap. And no phone.

So I called my cell phone again.  This time I separated the bags so I could tell which one was ringing.  Did I mention that it is harder to locate missing cell phones in dark trash bags, as opposed to light colored trash bags?  And I’m not profiling anything here.  It’s just the plain truth.

Finally.  I find my phone, covered in butter, cake batter, indescribable fuzz, and a random chicken bone sticking out of the side of it like a fake antenna.

But Lordy, it was still ringing!

The cats left the kitchen, quite disappointed.  I hastily bagged up the second trash bag, washed the floor, cleaned up my iPhone and the case, set out the fruit plate and hummus, washed my hands, put on my pearl necklace and apron and was ready to great my company with no evidence of the insanity I just barely survived right before they knocked on my front door.

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Yep.  Tuesday night, nobody knew about the riotous cell phone incident.

Until they read this post, that is.

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Whatever It Takes

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Carry on.  Keep your wits about you.  It could be worse.  One day at a time.  Stay optimistic.

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Trite and banal?  Yes.  But this type of self-talk is what works for me right now.  Doing whatever it takes to stay functional in my little world is what I need to do.  Health problems.  Money problems.  Car problems.  Family problems.  Lord knows we all have them.  And my little collection of the aforementioned stuff seems to be ramping up just beyond my usual level of tolerance.

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I haven’t been blogging regularly.  My intention is to get back on track and write more often.  Some things (like writing) I don’t miss until I stop doing or seeing or experiencing them and then out of nowhere, I realize, “…Hey, what the hell happened to LupusRanting?  Did she vanish?  Win the lottery?  Wind up on a milk carton?  WTF? …”

For those of you who stop by regularly, thanks for stopping by regularly.

Me and my bad attitude aren’t going anywhere.  For now.  Whatever it takes to carry on.

The December Rush

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I hate Christmas shopping. Don’t get me wrong. I honestly like the Christmas season and look forward to spending time with family and friends. However, being in a crowded store with maniac shoppers is enough to throw me into a crazy lupus flare. And yet, somehow I found myself in one of the big box stores the day after Thanksgiving, with my son, looking at flat screen televisions. And the stupid thing about that was knowing he wasn’t going to buy anything. However, the other nine million people in the store were going nuts with their credit cards. I hope their retail therapy experience made them happy, bless their hearts.

Nothing is worth standing in line outside, in the dark.

Yeah, let's all stand in line outside and wait for the store to open!

The December Rush is upon us.

Black Friday.

Cyber Monday.

Panic shopping at the last minute for gifts we weren’t going to buy but now feel we must.

Some of us (not me) are compelled to bake enough cookies to feed a small country.

Are you suffering from the symptoms of The December Rush? If so keep reading, because during this time of the year, I’m all about slapping some common sense into your head in BEFORE you get carried away.

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#1 Do you really want to stand in line to buy stuff? Of course you don’t! Standing in line only makes you more tired. Pay somebody 5 bucks to shop for you. It’s worth it. Better yet, shop on line.

#2 Does old Aunt Myrtle really need your homemade peanut brittle? Not if she wants to keep her teeth. Buy her something soft … like warm, fuzzy socks … from the drug store, where the checkout lines are short.

#3 Don’t be afraid to give people The Gift of Disappointment. It’s free and they will get over it.

#4 You know what else is free? Driving around and looking at Christmas lights. It’s fun and you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that YOUR electric bill won’t be as high as the guy whose house looks like it’s on fire.

#5 Wash your hands. Sleep 8 hours a night. Drink plenty of water. It’s easy to get sick when you’re stressed out and heaven knows you don’t have time to be sick in December.

#6 Try to not get sucked into the vortex of buying a Lexus with a big bow on it. Or a puppy with a big bow on it. Who does that? Really?

#7 Wine is a good thing. Not to be confused with whine, which is terribly overrated.

#8 Sing Christmas songs. And if you can’t sing well, sing anyway. Singing lowers your blood pressure.

#9 Remember that you are not perfect, the world is not perfect, your family and friends are not perfect, and there is no such thing as a perfect Christmas.

10. If you think you’re going to lose your mind over the holiday pressure, go right ahead. Everybody is entitled to a meltdown now and then.

#11 December lasts only 31 days. Eventually spring will come, which is what I really look forward to enjoying.

White Nights

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Lately, I’ve been having trouble falling asleep.  It’s very frustrating.  Some of you might be reading this post in the middle of the night and can relate.  Since I can’t sleep I might as well write.  At least I feel I’m doing something positive with all this free time on my hands.  Actually, it really isn’t free time because I know that sometime tomorrow afternoon I’ll be taping my eyelids to my forehead.

butterfly5

I don’t really have a bedtime routine.  Maybe that’s the problem.  But I’m perfectly capable of relaxing, getting cozy in bed, maybe reading a little bit, or watching something I’ve taped on television.  A little Tylenol PM, or something stronger usually does the trick.  Sometimes the brain just won’t shut down.  I start thinking.  And thinking.  And making lists in my head.  And playing out scenarios of possible future events.  God knows I must be prepared.  I tell my brain to shut the hell up.  My brain doesn’t listen …. it has a will beyond my control.

Yeah I make grocery lists.  To Do Lists for the office.  And I come up with what I think are stunningly brilliant ideas for a music project, an art project …. you name it.  But I’m trying to fall asleep, dammit, and so I don’t take the time to sit up and write anything on paper.  Maybe that’s a good thing.   What seems like a great idea in the middle of the night can look pretty stupid in the light of day.  I lived through the 70’s and 80’s and 90’s.  Enough said.  Now that I have my own personal forum of random rants, I’m taking a chance and depositing some of the loose screws in my head right here, right now.  Maybe this will help me fall asleep.  It’s worth a try.

butterfly5

Between June 11 to July 2  St. Petersburg, Russia, celebrates what they call The White Nights.  During this time, the sun does not go below the horizon deep enough for the sky to become dark. It’s a veritable Mecca for insomniacs.  And I’m sure their festivals are lots of fun.  Hmmmm … vodka 24/7.  Not a bad idea!

2:00 am in St. Petersburg

2:00 am in St. Petersburg

As I sit here, my two cats are looking at me.  They are both curled up, totally relaxed and have not a care in the world.  Maybe that’s because they are cats with little brains and the ability to sleep with their feet over their face.  My gray tabby, Tigger is actually looking at me upside down.  But it’s easy for him to be distracted and now he’s licking his ass.  Lovely.

Well, at least the crickets and other bugs are still up and making their end-of-the-summer bug sounds.  However, at some point they too will shut up.   Insects are classified as arthropods.  I know this because it’s late at night and I have time to Google random information about bugs.  I could be doing something more productive like laundry but that would involve actually moving and going up and down stairs. I could try wandering around Facebook looking for new games and applications.  It’s easy to get lost in the Facebook Vortex.  Maybe I’ll give it a try and will let you know if it works or not.

butterfly5So if you’re reading this in the middle of your own personal White Night, or in the morning, or depending on where you are, I wish you sweet dreams.  We can all use a little extra  Zzzzz’s.

So Here’s The Thing …

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Where have I been for the last month?  Did not fall off a cliff.  Was not deported.  There is a story to tell and on the Lame Story Thermometer it’s quite impressive.  So here’s the thing …..

I could tell you I’ve been in mourning since Michael Jackson died.  Well, I did watch the memorial service.  And the Jackson 5 movie.   Does that count?

I could also tell you I’ve been very busy painting.  Except  I have not been painting much. But I did think about my current project .  It started out like a sunflower on steroids and LSD but somehow it wandered down the path of extreme butt-face ugliness.  After a coat of white paint to cover up the abstract monstrosity, I began work on what may perhaps be an even an even uglier abstract monstrosity with blues and yellows.   In the meantime, I have a towel flung over the canvas so I don’t have to look at it.

KINDA THE LOOK I WAS AIMING FOR

KINDA THE LOOK I WAS AIMING FOR

My sister recently had heart surgery to replace her aortic valve.  She was born with a bicuspid valve; an inherited swimming-in-the-shallow-water genetic fluke.  So now she has a bovine (moooooo) valve and will soon be able to chase grandchildren around the yard.  Last week I did spend most of my spare time at the hospital.  Her doctor noted that since this is inherited, her children and siblings should get a complete medical workup.  I’ll put that on my list of things to do.  Later.  Today she was discharged from the hospital and is happy to be resting at home.  Her short-term goal in life at the moment is to be well enough to go to the American Idol concert at the end of August.  I’ll be happy if we score a great handicap parking space.  Ya’ll think the sympathy factor would get us a backstage pass to meet Adam?

BAD VALVE

BAD VALVE

GOOD VALVE

GOOD VALVE

Last month we relocated our medical office to a new hospital campus.  Moving is hard.  So is packing.  Packing AND moving totally sucks.  But I’m a stoic individual who didn’t want to look like a complete middle-aged chicken shit wuss with lupus who can’t lift heavy boxes.  I usually save that approach for non work-related catastrophes.  However, I’m an idiot and I did overdue things.  Now my neck feels as supple as a redwood tree.  Maybe I will join the gym after all.  On second thought …

ME CARRYING HEAVY BOXES WEARING SANDALS??

ME CARRYING HEAVY BOXES WEARING SANDALS??

Also last month I went to visit my son and daughter-in-law.  Hung around the farm they live on;  spent time at the sand beach, went to a movie and attended an open house where Matt was in charge of a wild edible plants exhibit.  Nothing quite like tasting garlic mustard pesto and cattail hearts.  However, I did have a super time.  And a little FYI for you moviegoers out there.  Do not watch the new Sasha Baron Kohen movie “Bruno”.  Quite the bizzare experience watching full frontal male nudity and a swinger club party on the big screen with your family.  I wanted to disappear like the prophesied Rapture in the bible.  Turn your head and I’m gone in a flash.

PLEASE GOD GET ME OUTTA HERE

PLEASE GOD GET ME OUTTA HERE

On the lupus side of my life, I’ve had three infusions so far.  I get them every three weeks and am grateful to have a course of treatment that works like magic.  Mind you, IVIG is not a cure for lupus.  I’m in the very small minority of people with refractory response to conventional medications.  The last week or so has been hectic and my body has been telling me to slow down, stay out of the sun and heat and rest.  I did try to listen and managed to cut back on cleaning, etc.  As a result, the house is a mess and the laundry is piling up.  But that’s life with lupus.

Ego venit ego vigilo ego confero. I came, I saw, I wrote.

It’s good to be back.

Hang Em High

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It all started when I began thinking about the strange randomness of the single shoe found on roadsides.  How did it get there?  Was it thrown out on purpose or just carelessly tossed aside?  Who knows?  And who cares?

That’s when I decided to Google “random shoes.”  I found photos of this tree in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Shoes in Tree
Shoes in Tree

Apparently the custom is to sling your shoes up in the tree after you’ve experienced a certain rite of passage.  Ahem.  The tree is dead, by the way, perhaps by way of stinky feet.  And maybe the tire was a tribute to ah, uh …  whatever.

Read the rest of this entry

Freudian Interview

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Here’s my Freudian Interview, courtesy of  Allison.  She gave me a list of questions and none of them were easy to answer!!  I tried my best however, and it was fun to have a diversion at work.  Here’s what Dr. Freud might have asked.

"So ... What's Cesar Milan REALLY like?"

"So ... What's Cesar Milan REALLY like?"

1.  You are Queen Of The World for one day.  As Queen, you have to order the beheading of one individual and the knighting of another.  Who will they be and why?

Hmmmm.  So many heads, so little time.  This was a tough choice because the beheading option has sooooo many contenders, such as Bin Laden and North Korea President Kim Jong IL.  After much consideration, I decided that First Class A$$hole terrrorist Osama Bin Laden is the big winner.  I was going to post his photo, but he’s too despicable and a waste of time to look at.

Knighthood?  My dad, of course.  But being the practical girl that I am, I elevate President Barack Obama to knighthood.  He needs our prayers.

barack-obama-family2

Damn it’s good to be Queen of the World.  Even if just for one day.  🙂

mh-mother_s-day_poster

2.  A genie appears and grants you a super power ability.  Just one.  Which will you choose and why?

What I would really want to have is the super power ability to have many super powers.   Being able to fly, or be invisible, or even technopathic (the electrical/telekinetic ability to mentally interface with computer data).  I think there’s a big demand for technopathic skills right now.  No bailout for those crooked Wall Street moguls!   But if I had to limit it to one (dammit you crackpot genie), it would be Telepathy.   blog_telepathy1At least with telepathy, I will be able to know who’s trying to bullshit me.  And if I can read minds I won’t have waste my time dealing with idiots and liars.  But flying came in a close second.  Can you imagine that???

But I won’t be going to those psychic conferences or The Celebrity Psychic Network.

3.  You are able to resurect one individual from history who will remain at your side to guide you along life’s journey.  Who will you resurrect and why?

Easy.  Mother Teresa of Calcutta (1910-1997).  She lived her life with unshakable faith, invincible hope and extraordinary charity.  I could only aspire to follow in her footsteps, but living with her at my side would be an honor.  What a woman!  What an inspiration to us all.

motherteresa

4.  You are traveling back in time to the Middle Ages.  You can only take one thing with you.  What would you take for your month-long stay?
Call me crazy, but I’d just HAVE to take a camera! canon-eos

It was also called Medieval, encompassing the 5th to 15th centuries in Western Europe.  No doubt for most those times were often harsh, uncertain and dangerous.  I would be wealthy and live on a profitable estate. planned_medieval_003

Of course, I would be the Annie Liebowitz of the 15th Century.

I would hear childhood stories about William the Conqueror, Richard the Lionheart and Edward III.  I would have met and photographed William Wallace and Thomas Aquinos, Dante and Joan of Arc.

And after a month’s time I would return home to a long-awaited hot shower and watch American Idol that I recorded while away.  I would order pizza delivery, click my heels together and chant “There’s no place like home.”

Then I’d get a book deal, a movie deal, and a manager.  Those pictures will be worth millions.

5.  The world is becoming overly crowded.  It is your turn to decide which country gets sent to a different planet.  Which one will you choose?
This required a little research.  So the decision I made was based strictly on numbers.  Currently, the two largest populated countries on earth are China (1,330,044,605) and India (1,147,995, 898).

chinaindiapopdensity8001

Numbers don’t lie.  At least that’s what my high school geometry teacher told me.  If China and India blast off somewhere else, the rest of the world will have more time to get their collective acts together on a humanitarian, political, economic and ecological level.  This would definitely reduce our carbon footprints.  Just ask Al Gore.  Like I said, it’s strictly about the numbers.  And by the way, the United States of America comes in with the third largest world-wide population.  Just missed the shuttle, folks.

"These people will never learn."

"These people will never learn."

There should also be room on the shuttle to also include:  Michael Jackson, Paris Hilton,  greedy over-paid bonus-bloated Wall Street millionaires, Axel Rose, Wayne Newton, Dr. Phil, Kim Jong (since I didn’t wack his head off when I was Queen), All of the Orange County Real Housewives, Rowan Atkinson, Carrot Top, Gary Busey and/or Jeff Conaway, Ann Coulter and Sarah Palin (they can sit together). And if you have any suggestions, add them to the list.

Remember this is STRICTLY VOLUNTARY for the good people listed above.  And I’m not saying anybody should die.  I’m assuming the planet they’re headed for is safe and you can breathe without a mask, and the cost of living there and transportation, etc is NOT TAKEN OUT OF MY TAX DOLLARS.  The Wall Street dudes will pay for the elective rocket ship out of their slush funds before they drank the Kool-Aide.

Here are the rules for anyone else who wants to be interviewed:

1.    Leave me a comment saying, “Interview Me.”

2.    I will respond by emailing you five questions.  (I get to pick the questions.)

3.    You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4.    You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5.   When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

HAVE FUN  🙂