Hardly a day goes by that I don't have to type about someone who has just had bypass surgery. I think it's a crying shame that my job forces me to relive the death of my father over and over and over again. Some of these patients seem to be doing well, and others, not so much.
Tonight, once again, I find myself back in the hospital, sitting in fear and watching the nurse come into the waiting area, shaking her head, telling us she doesn't think he's going to make it. I'm watching my mother get on her knees in front of the chair she's sitting in and begin to pray even more earnestly, as if that was even possible. I'm exchanging a glance with Carol Baby, my mouth wide open, shocked and wondering how this could be happening and she mouthing words silently and privately to me that I will never forget as long as I live. I'm walking back to where he is laying and I'm standing and watching the nurse sew up his chest as I stand there in disbelief, looking back and forth at my sisters, willing it to be some horrible nightmare that I will wake up from. I'm standing there looking at my Mom who asks us to leave her alone with him and I'm stalking out of there so numb and angry and wondering why in the world they let us back there before they were done sewing him up. I'm sitting at the table with my family when mama asks us, "what do we do now?" and I have no idea what to answer. And although I honestly do feel better about the whole situation, my job really and truly sucks.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Fool me once...shame on me...
I don't like cantaloupe. I just don't. I like the color and the smell and I like how it looks on a plate straight from the cold fridge, but when I put it in my mouth I am surprised each and every time that I just do NOT like it. I think I probably should. Oh! And what about the dessert bar at a Chinese restaurant? It all looks pretty nice, but seriously...none of that stuff is worth putting in your mouth.
And then there's mustard potato salad. I assume that I don't like it, but when Dirty Larry buys it and then offers me a bite, I decide that I do like it after all. I would NEVER buy mustard potato salad on purpose. My brain immediately tells me no. But like I said, my tongue inevitably decides yes.
Here's the part that I just don't get. Why do I have to go through that process of convincing myself EVERY STINKIN' TIME it happens? It's like a brand new thing I've never experienced, even though I've experienced it numerous times in the past. It's a new, brilliant revelation each and every time. You know, it's kind of like childbirth. If a woman who gives birth is willing to go through that process YET again, it's more than likely because she's totally forgotten what happened the first time around.
I think since this is MY blog and I get to make up the rules here, I'm okay with comparing childbirth to the taste of a stale fortune cookie. And yes, I do eat those things even though the majority of the population apparently does not. You know why? Because EVERY TIME I get one, I think...it's a cookie! I'm bound to like it.
And then there's mustard potato salad. I assume that I don't like it, but when Dirty Larry buys it and then offers me a bite, I decide that I do like it after all. I would NEVER buy mustard potato salad on purpose. My brain immediately tells me no. But like I said, my tongue inevitably decides yes.Here's the part that I just don't get. Why do I have to go through that process of convincing myself EVERY STINKIN' TIME it happens? It's like a brand new thing I've never experienced, even though I've experienced it numerous times in the past. It's a new, brilliant revelation each and every time. You know, it's kind of like childbirth. If a woman who gives birth is willing to go through that process YET again, it's more than likely because she's totally forgotten what happened the first time around.
I think since this is MY blog and I get to make up the rules here, I'm okay with comparing childbirth to the taste of a stale fortune cookie. And yes, I do eat those things even though the majority of the population apparently does not. You know why? Because EVERY TIME I get one, I think...it's a cookie! I'm bound to like it.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Ooow...my noggin!
My boy, Keifer Sutherland, who is on probation, (probably for killing somebody), has now gone off and head-butted a guy and he's gonna be in big trouble. Now, my question is...why, why, why in the world would a person make Jack Bauer mad enough to cause him to want to head-butt them? Does this person never watch television? I KNOW for sure why he's such a bitter, frightening man. His parents named him Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland. That's plenty enough to make you want to murder people.
The saddest part is that this unfortunate head-butting event happened so close to Jack Bauer appreciation day which falls on May 9th. Please my friends, let's think about our amazing friend, Jack, together, one last time before they cart him off to jail.
You know it really doesn't matter. He'll escape.
The saddest part is that this unfortunate head-butting event happened so close to Jack Bauer appreciation day which falls on May 9th. Please my friends, let's think about our amazing friend, Jack, together, one last time before they cart him off to jail.
You know it really doesn't matter. He'll escape.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Wanted...Dead or Alive
What a smashing weekend my blog friends. My high school buddy and I made a trip to New Orleans to attend the fabulous Jazz Fest and see my old flame Jon Bon Jovi. I thought I'd go over some of the highlights for you. The big let down for the weekend was that my back stage passes did NOT make it through the mail in time and I was subjected to the crowds like everyone else. Jon was singing to me, but I just couldn't get close enough to the stage to talk to him and he was pretty much brokenhearted.
That leads us to miracle #1, which is that I STILL woke up this morning and ran two miles on aching legs. You are proud. Don't pretend not to be.
You guys come next time...was fun!
Anyway, we arrived Saturday morning and joy of joys they let us in the hotel BEFORE 12:00 when the check in time wasn't until 3:00. It was the first weekend miracle and was on the list of weekend miracles at #3. We immediately set out for the french quarter to find food. After a bit of walking, 
we ended up at the Palace Cafe, where you have 7 waiters that all love you very much and only have your happiness in mind. Then we tried to determine how to get to Jazz Fest without getting lost or breaking the bank. We ended up on a bus and paid the nice driver $1.25 for the lift. When the bus stopped, we actually had no idea where we were but we acted 
very cool and just followed the crowd. That many people couldn't all be wrong at the same time. Sure enough, after a few blocks of walking, they led us to the fairgrounds where we began our next adventure, which was trying to figure out where a person might find the Gospel Tent (Aaron Neville) or the Lagniappe Stage (Bobby Lounge). We walked and we walked and we walked some more. Luckily, it wasn't terribly hot and I'm in smashing shape (shut up). The music was great, the company was pleasant and the people watching opportunities were amazing. Who knew there were so many people who thought those long spaghetti strap dresses looked good enough on them to wear out in public! After we had our fill of music, we found ourselves back on a bus, listening to the interesting conversations around us, ready to begin our search for dinner. We found ourselves back in the quarter and visited the Gumbo Shop, where we sat under the stars while we ate okra gumbo and red beans and rice, and rested our tired feet.
we ended up at the Palace Cafe, where you have 7 waiters that all love you very much and only have your happiness in mind. Then we tried to determine how to get to Jazz Fest without getting lost or breaking the bank. We ended up on a bus and paid the nice driver $1.25 for the lift. When the bus stopped, we actually had no idea where we were but we acted 
very cool and just followed the crowd. That many people couldn't all be wrong at the same time. Sure enough, after a few blocks of walking, they led us to the fairgrounds where we began our next adventure, which was trying to figure out where a person might find the Gospel Tent (Aaron Neville) or the Lagniappe Stage (Bobby Lounge). We walked and we walked and we walked some more. Luckily, it wasn't terribly hot and I'm in smashing shape (shut up). The music was great, the company was pleasant and the people watching opportunities were amazing. Who knew there were so many people who thought those long spaghetti strap dresses looked good enough on them to wear out in public! After we had our fill of music, we found ourselves back on a bus, listening to the interesting conversations around us, ready to begin our search for dinner. We found ourselves back in the quarter and visited the Gumbo Shop, where we sat under the stars while we ate okra gumbo and red beans and rice, and rested our tired feet.The next morning, we planned to meet our old pal Gnutcase at Cafe Du Monde for the obligatory french donut and got the bright idea to catch a street car to our destination. I hopped on one and 
my friend was right behind me. Sadly the mean driver person told her she couldn't have her coffee, so she hopped back off to discard her cup. In the meantime, mean driver lady tried to shut the danged door on me. It was unnecessary to say the least. The picture you see here is the picture I took while we were still both pretty happy about our TROLLEY ride. I'm calling it that because we were specifically told NOT to call it a trolley, but I'm a little disgruntled, so....anyway, we finally were both seated and on our way, when suddenly out of the blue, the street car (trolley) turned a corner and started going in a direction that we did 
NOT want to go. Now we hated the mean driver person even more. Eventually we did disembark, but it was WAY FAR AWAY from where we needed to be, so we walked and walked and walked some more. Miracle #2 is that I didn't maim/dismember that mean driver person. We did finally find Gnut and eat our beignet and we sat and watched the river for a bit and once again rested our sad, tired feet. Gnut was kind enough to drive us back to the jeep for our departure out of the city. I do want it said that my Tom Tom tried to take us everywhere BUT Interstate 10 on the way home. I have no idea why, but we were smart enough to ignore that British accented voice and got the heck out of Dodge without her help at all.
my friend was right behind me. Sadly the mean driver person told her she couldn't have her coffee, so she hopped back off to discard her cup. In the meantime, mean driver lady tried to shut the danged door on me. It was unnecessary to say the least. The picture you see here is the picture I took while we were still both pretty happy about our TROLLEY ride. I'm calling it that because we were specifically told NOT to call it a trolley, but I'm a little disgruntled, so....anyway, we finally were both seated and on our way, when suddenly out of the blue, the street car (trolley) turned a corner and started going in a direction that we did 
NOT want to go. Now we hated the mean driver person even more. Eventually we did disembark, but it was WAY FAR AWAY from where we needed to be, so we walked and walked and walked some more. Miracle #2 is that I didn't maim/dismember that mean driver person. We did finally find Gnut and eat our beignet and we sat and watched the river for a bit and once again rested our sad, tired feet. Gnut was kind enough to drive us back to the jeep for our departure out of the city. I do want it said that my Tom Tom tried to take us everywhere BUT Interstate 10 on the way home. I have no idea why, but we were smart enough to ignore that British accented voice and got the heck out of Dodge without her help at all.That leads us to miracle #1, which is that I STILL woke up this morning and ran two miles on aching legs. You are proud. Don't pretend not to be.
You guys come next time...was fun!
Friday, May 1, 2009
*pats herself on the back*
Today, I am proud of me. In fact, I've been proud of me for quite a while now, but today, especially, I'm impressed with myself. Let's go back over the years of this blog and try to remember that I am mostly known as a sedentary soul. My job offers me no prospects for moving around. I sit at this computer all day and type away with no office mates or lunch buddies. I just sit. But, back in September, I joined that gym, remember? That moment has changed my way of thinking about some things. Not only have I dropped some weight, and changed my eating habits a little, I have now convinced myself that I can run. Well....I can run on the treadmill at least, but I promise you I'm thinking further into the future and it really does involve being outside. So what is my grand accomplishment? I ran 2.25 miles today without stopping. It took me 30 minutes at a very steady and obviously slow pace, but I did it. And, on top of that, I feel confident that I can do it tomorrow and the next day and again and again. So I will. And maybe, just maybe, one day I'll go faster or farther, but for today....just look at what I did!
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