1/31/2014
After being medically unable to work last year, and then receiving my permanent disability award from Social Security, there was a few loose ends that needed tying up. And coming to terms with the things that I knew I needed to do caused me many hours of anxiety. All of my friends and family know that I fret pretty much about everything - AND if I have nothing really to fret about - I fret about that!!
My first decision was the hardest. Calling my boss to tell him that I was going to retire was the first thing on my list of things I had to do. So looking at the January calendar I picked a date at random as my official retirement date. I followed up that call with a note in writing that I was retiring. Making that call took me days to make. I knew, and everybody else did too, that it was pretty obvious I wasn't coming back. But, I had never uttered the words "retire" and "not coming back" to anyone - they were just words and thoughts that rattled around in my head. Thinking that you're going to retire is one thing, but actually setting the wheels in motion is something entirely different.
Once my decision was made, my next challenge, and it was a big one, was returning to the office to pack up 12+ years of my personal belongings. Like packing for traveling, or adorning my little cube, I don't travel light! Lucky for me that my best friend had already wrapped up all of my glass pieces (I love decorative glass), which meant that my getaway would be faster. I also picked a time to meet my boss when I knew that most of my coworkers would have left for the day. Luckily for me, they had.
While I removed various art projects and pictures of Ben and opened up drawers and packed up clear nail polish (a leftover from back in the day when you wore nylons and needed the nail polish to stop a run). The breakfast bars that I kept around just in case I was starving to death, were so flat that the only place they could go was in the trash.
While I was busy pulling things out of the wall as fast as I could, my hands began to shake and the tears started. Everybody knows that nothing stays the same forever, but when it's your time to end one chapter and begin another, it's damn difficult. I could have put off picking my things up, but that final task needed to be done and sooner rather than later.
It was very hard for me to see all of my things put away in boxes for me to take home. I cried most of the way home. Jeff very nicely suggested eating out and we had a nice dinner and by the time we left the restaurant I was more in control.
As I walked out of the office, the realization hit me that my 46 year career as a secretary was over, but not my life. That part of my life is over but the possibilities of what I can do is endless. I just need to find some organization that needs my skills.
And because I have a lot of free time, I am returning to my "novel" about Wilma the crusty old librarian and Abe Lincoln's missing diary. I have also given thought to trying to put in words a story about the inside of a suicide. Not an uplifting story I know, but one I feel compelled to write, if only for myself
Today is my baby's 34th birthday!
Enjoy your Friday and I know most of you will be glued to the television on Sunday to watch the game. Jeff and I will record the game, so that we can fast forward to watch the commercials!
P
Friday, January 31, 2014
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Dentists
1/30/2014
Today after I finish the last dregs of my coffee, I'm taking myself to the dentist for a root canal. Ever had one of those? Unfortunately, I've had several and they are one of my least favorite procedures, but necessary.
I was a child in the 50's when a visit to the dentist was very scary. I suppose there must have been child dentists even back then, but if they were, my parents never took me to one of them. No, instead I climbed up into the dental chair, which was not nearly as comfortable (maybe comfortable isn't the right word, but you know what I mean) as they are today.
Also, ALL and I do mean ALL instruments of torture, drills and other kinds of equipment literally dangled in front of your face, while you tried to get comfortable and get your heart rate down to something close to normal. Then there was the white porcelain sink thing with water swishing around inside. Instead of the tidy little sucker devices of today, back then you rinsed your mouth into the little sink.
Also, unlike today, in addition to the devices hanging over your head, there was a small tray that held all the little tools necessary to scrape, poke and eventually clean your teeth. Nothing was hidden, everything was spread out right in front of you. Even before the dentist and/or his assistant even touched my teeth, my dread and fear mounted with every passing second. To say that I developed a fear of dentists, is an understatement.
As a teenager, one dentist told my mother that I had too many teeth in my mouth which was causing crowding. Were braces considered? I doubt it, because at my next appointment two of my teeth were pulled out. It certainly fixed the overcrowding problem, but by today's standards, seems a bit drastic.
As a teenager I went to a dentist ONCE who apparently didn't want his patients to bite him (though they certainly should have), he put something like a bit in my mouth and then stretched some kind of rubber device over the bit. This was frightening beyond words and after I told my Mother about the rubber thingy, we managed to find a new dentist!
When I had children of my own, and remembering well how fearful it can be to go to a dentist (at least for me), I found a children's dentist. The boys loved going to see him, brightly colored walls, no instruments in sight, smaller chairs and a toy after each visit. Luckily for them, the boys grew up without a dentist phobia, and even when it was time for braces, the visits were just not a big deal to them. I can't recommend enough how starting a child off with a children's dentist gives the child a much different view toward dental care as adults.
Even though today's appointment will be a bit lengthy and a shot and a drill will be involved, my dentist is very kind and patient, which is important to a fraidy (I don't think that's spelled right) cat like myself.
I have an interesting story about how I got my name. It seems that when my Mom was pregnant with me, her dentist had a lovely assistant named Patti. Mom thought this woman was extremely nice with a good personality. Here's the kicker: "Patti" was having an affair with the dentist, who was married! Many years later as a teenager Mom took me back to that same dentist, who was still practicing, and his assistant was "Patti", only then she was his wife! I have no idea how Mom came up with my middle name of Jo, but when I was recently in the south, EVERYBODY called me by my full name, which initially caught me off guard, but after I got used to it, kind of liked it!
P
Today after I finish the last dregs of my coffee, I'm taking myself to the dentist for a root canal. Ever had one of those? Unfortunately, I've had several and they are one of my least favorite procedures, but necessary.
I was a child in the 50's when a visit to the dentist was very scary. I suppose there must have been child dentists even back then, but if they were, my parents never took me to one of them. No, instead I climbed up into the dental chair, which was not nearly as comfortable (maybe comfortable isn't the right word, but you know what I mean) as they are today.
Also, ALL and I do mean ALL instruments of torture, drills and other kinds of equipment literally dangled in front of your face, while you tried to get comfortable and get your heart rate down to something close to normal. Then there was the white porcelain sink thing with water swishing around inside. Instead of the tidy little sucker devices of today, back then you rinsed your mouth into the little sink.
Also, unlike today, in addition to the devices hanging over your head, there was a small tray that held all the little tools necessary to scrape, poke and eventually clean your teeth. Nothing was hidden, everything was spread out right in front of you. Even before the dentist and/or his assistant even touched my teeth, my dread and fear mounted with every passing second. To say that I developed a fear of dentists, is an understatement.
As a teenager, one dentist told my mother that I had too many teeth in my mouth which was causing crowding. Were braces considered? I doubt it, because at my next appointment two of my teeth were pulled out. It certainly fixed the overcrowding problem, but by today's standards, seems a bit drastic.
As a teenager I went to a dentist ONCE who apparently didn't want his patients to bite him (though they certainly should have), he put something like a bit in my mouth and then stretched some kind of rubber device over the bit. This was frightening beyond words and after I told my Mother about the rubber thingy, we managed to find a new dentist!
When I had children of my own, and remembering well how fearful it can be to go to a dentist (at least for me), I found a children's dentist. The boys loved going to see him, brightly colored walls, no instruments in sight, smaller chairs and a toy after each visit. Luckily for them, the boys grew up without a dentist phobia, and even when it was time for braces, the visits were just not a big deal to them. I can't recommend enough how starting a child off with a children's dentist gives the child a much different view toward dental care as adults.
Even though today's appointment will be a bit lengthy and a shot and a drill will be involved, my dentist is very kind and patient, which is important to a fraidy (I don't think that's spelled right) cat like myself.
I have an interesting story about how I got my name. It seems that when my Mom was pregnant with me, her dentist had a lovely assistant named Patti. Mom thought this woman was extremely nice with a good personality. Here's the kicker: "Patti" was having an affair with the dentist, who was married! Many years later as a teenager Mom took me back to that same dentist, who was still practicing, and his assistant was "Patti", only then she was his wife! I have no idea how Mom came up with my middle name of Jo, but when I was recently in the south, EVERYBODY called me by my full name, which initially caught me off guard, but after I got used to it, kind of liked it!
P
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Serendipity
1/29/2014
The definition of serendipity is a fortuitous happenstance (don't you just love that word?) or pleasant surprise. Yesterday I had a serendipity moment and it made my day and also gave me a great deal of joy.
Jeff and I had a business appointment yesterday. When we entered the office, I noticed immediately the name of someone that I was absolutely sure I used to work for. How often is that likely? After yesterday, maybe I should consider buying a lottery ticket - who knows I might even win!
Luckily for me, my former boss, who I worked with for a number of years, happened to be in the office and we had time to catch up on things - both the good and bad. I cannot adequately put into words how wonderful it was for me to see this man again after all these years. Seeing him brought back memories from a long time ago. When I originally was hired, it was two attorneys and yours truly. Our office was in a townhouse and on snow days or other days that schools were closed, the attorneys were kind enough to let me bring the boys to work. If my memory serves me correct, there was always some kind of cookies or crackers to snack on during the day. When the boys were in the office, and they were finished "snacking", all that was left was crumbs!
I also remember that one of the boys decided that our spare office supplies needed to be organized! I have never thought that most men/boys were particularly good at organization, but one of the boys did really try and while not exactly to my liking, left it alone. On snow days, the boys shoveled the sidewalk and played outside (at that time the boys were 8 and 6).
Nothing stays the same forever. We eventually grew out of space in the townhouse, moved into an office building, added lawyers and other secretaries. I worked with this man for several more years before I decided it was time for me to move on.
After leaving, I was hired as a legal secretary working in the labor and benefits department, until I "retired" a few days ago. While my working career has come to a stop after 46 years, I can truly say that I have worked with some and for amazing people and formed friendships along the way.
I was told by Mrs. Orr, my business teacher, in high school ('67), that if I was going to be a secretary I had to be the best damn (pretty sure she used a different word) secretary out there. I have never forgotten those words and have always tried to live up to that advice. I believe that Mrs. Orr, who set me on my future path, would be proud of what I have accomplished over the years.
I may be a lot older than I was in 1967, but this girl can still type. Shorthand not so much!
Thank you so much my friend for the time we spent together yesterday. It brought back a lot of really happy memories for me and perhaps for you too.
P
The definition of serendipity is a fortuitous happenstance (don't you just love that word?) or pleasant surprise. Yesterday I had a serendipity moment and it made my day and also gave me a great deal of joy.
Jeff and I had a business appointment yesterday. When we entered the office, I noticed immediately the name of someone that I was absolutely sure I used to work for. How often is that likely? After yesterday, maybe I should consider buying a lottery ticket - who knows I might even win!
Luckily for me, my former boss, who I worked with for a number of years, happened to be in the office and we had time to catch up on things - both the good and bad. I cannot adequately put into words how wonderful it was for me to see this man again after all these years. Seeing him brought back memories from a long time ago. When I originally was hired, it was two attorneys and yours truly. Our office was in a townhouse and on snow days or other days that schools were closed, the attorneys were kind enough to let me bring the boys to work. If my memory serves me correct, there was always some kind of cookies or crackers to snack on during the day. When the boys were in the office, and they were finished "snacking", all that was left was crumbs!
I also remember that one of the boys decided that our spare office supplies needed to be organized! I have never thought that most men/boys were particularly good at organization, but one of the boys did really try and while not exactly to my liking, left it alone. On snow days, the boys shoveled the sidewalk and played outside (at that time the boys were 8 and 6).
Nothing stays the same forever. We eventually grew out of space in the townhouse, moved into an office building, added lawyers and other secretaries. I worked with this man for several more years before I decided it was time for me to move on.
After leaving, I was hired as a legal secretary working in the labor and benefits department, until I "retired" a few days ago. While my working career has come to a stop after 46 years, I can truly say that I have worked with some and for amazing people and formed friendships along the way.
I was told by Mrs. Orr, my business teacher, in high school ('67), that if I was going to be a secretary I had to be the best damn (pretty sure she used a different word) secretary out there. I have never forgotten those words and have always tried to live up to that advice. I believe that Mrs. Orr, who set me on my future path, would be proud of what I have accomplished over the years.
I may be a lot older than I was in 1967, but this girl can still type. Shorthand not so much!
Thank you so much my friend for the time we spent together yesterday. It brought back a lot of really happy memories for me and perhaps for you too.
P
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Killings at Columbia Mall
1/28/2014
A few days ago, a young man, with two guns in his backpack , entered a local mall and killed two people before killing himself. This was a tragic event but unfortunately these kind of shootings seem to be occurring more frequently.
I remember well where I was when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, but my memory isn't so clear about the death of his brother. But what I do remember about my teen years, is that random killings of innocent people was not the norm and so I spent those years cocooned against these types of tragedies.
Somewhere along the way to becoming an older woman, my daily newspaper seems to have more and more articles about random killings of innocent people. Sometimes the shooter takes his own life afterwards, but not always.
Yesterday's paper said that the police had identified the shooter but not his motive. I suppose the police are just doing what they are trained to do - investigate shootings and/or murders. I can't help wonder how knowing what this young man's motive was, could be of any help to the police or the families. It certainly won't ease the suffering of the families or help the number of employees and shoppers who hid in stores until the police arrived.
I suspect, but clearly don't know, but this young man might have been suffering from some kind of mental illness. It's the only reason I can come up with for his actions on Saturday. We'll never know.
What I do know is that the age of innocence or ignorance of what's happening in our country, is over and that's a shame. The young children growing up today will, unfortunately, be exposed to more events as those that occurred on Saturday.
P
A few days ago, a young man, with two guns in his backpack , entered a local mall and killed two people before killing himself. This was a tragic event but unfortunately these kind of shootings seem to be occurring more frequently.
I remember well where I was when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, but my memory isn't so clear about the death of his brother. But what I do remember about my teen years, is that random killings of innocent people was not the norm and so I spent those years cocooned against these types of tragedies.
Somewhere along the way to becoming an older woman, my daily newspaper seems to have more and more articles about random killings of innocent people. Sometimes the shooter takes his own life afterwards, but not always.
Yesterday's paper said that the police had identified the shooter but not his motive. I suppose the police are just doing what they are trained to do - investigate shootings and/or murders. I can't help wonder how knowing what this young man's motive was, could be of any help to the police or the families. It certainly won't ease the suffering of the families or help the number of employees and shoppers who hid in stores until the police arrived.
I suspect, but clearly don't know, but this young man might have been suffering from some kind of mental illness. It's the only reason I can come up with for his actions on Saturday. We'll never know.
What I do know is that the age of innocence or ignorance of what's happening in our country, is over and that's a shame. The young children growing up today will, unfortunately, be exposed to more events as those that occurred on Saturday.
P
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Grammy Awards
1/26/2014
This is one of those rare Sundays where I don't have to circle all of our favorite Sunday shows and then spend a good deal of time trying to juggle those shows into non-conflicting time slots! Sounds easy doesn't it? Trust me, it's not. I work very hard (truly) to get the Sunday night line-up just right so we don't miss any of our favorite shows. Jeff and I have thought for years that some of the best television is on Sunday night.
Generally, there is a football game that goes long which causes a domino effect on all the shows starting with 60 minutes and ending with our last show for the night The Mentalist. You may laugh but I sit with a magic marker, my remote and a carefully plan out of what we're going to watch and when. The amount of maneuvering that is required for Sunday nights is not for the faint of heart.
So what's going to muck up my television tonight - the Grammy Awards. I know this is a big deal for actors and musicians and it's likely that thousands or perhaps millions of viewers will tune in for the 3 1/2 hour show. I'm one of the few folks that won't be watching. I'll make sure that my Tivo is set to record something - anything - but an awards show.
My hands down favorite for best drama series is Downton Abbey. Also my favorite for lead actor and actress are Hugh Bonneville and Michelle Dockery from Downton Abbey. You think I like that show? Absolutely. I love the costumes and Maggie Smith the matriarch of the family is a delight to watch week after week. She has a sharp tongue and a no nonsense approach to life, which is truly refreshing. I know as I sit here that I am not expecting Downton Abbey to win in every nominated category, or perhaps even more realistically any category, if I were able to vote, they would be my hands down winner.
One of Jeff's favorite shows is NCIS and their stunt coordinator is up for a Grammy. Unfortunately, no Grammy nod for any of the cast, including our hands down favorite Mark Harmon.
Tomorrow's Style section of the paper will list all the winners and a few pictures of actresses. Likewise, People this Friday will have several pages devoted to who wore what, who talked too long, and other such newsworthy tidbits.
Wrapping this up for today. I've got television shows that I need to record for the week!
P
This is one of those rare Sundays where I don't have to circle all of our favorite Sunday shows and then spend a good deal of time trying to juggle those shows into non-conflicting time slots! Sounds easy doesn't it? Trust me, it's not. I work very hard (truly) to get the Sunday night line-up just right so we don't miss any of our favorite shows. Jeff and I have thought for years that some of the best television is on Sunday night.
Generally, there is a football game that goes long which causes a domino effect on all the shows starting with 60 minutes and ending with our last show for the night The Mentalist. You may laugh but I sit with a magic marker, my remote and a carefully plan out of what we're going to watch and when. The amount of maneuvering that is required for Sunday nights is not for the faint of heart.
So what's going to muck up my television tonight - the Grammy Awards. I know this is a big deal for actors and musicians and it's likely that thousands or perhaps millions of viewers will tune in for the 3 1/2 hour show. I'm one of the few folks that won't be watching. I'll make sure that my Tivo is set to record something - anything - but an awards show.
My hands down favorite for best drama series is Downton Abbey. Also my favorite for lead actor and actress are Hugh Bonneville and Michelle Dockery from Downton Abbey. You think I like that show? Absolutely. I love the costumes and Maggie Smith the matriarch of the family is a delight to watch week after week. She has a sharp tongue and a no nonsense approach to life, which is truly refreshing. I know as I sit here that I am not expecting Downton Abbey to win in every nominated category, or perhaps even more realistically any category, if I were able to vote, they would be my hands down winner.
One of Jeff's favorite shows is NCIS and their stunt coordinator is up for a Grammy. Unfortunately, no Grammy nod for any of the cast, including our hands down favorite Mark Harmon.
Tomorrow's Style section of the paper will list all the winners and a few pictures of actresses. Likewise, People this Friday will have several pages devoted to who wore what, who talked too long, and other such newsworthy tidbits.
Wrapping this up for today. I've got television shows that I need to record for the week!
P
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Justice?
1/25/2014
As I write my blog this morning, my blood is literally boiling over the sentence handed down to the mother who left her 8 month old son in her car for seven hours in July with a temperature of nearly 90 degrees. The baby died. That same morning she remembered to drop off her young daughter and older child to their schools. Unfortunately, she failed to remember the baby.
Her sentence? Completion of 18 months of supervised probation and a year on unsupervised probation. That's it? Apparently this case has been about accountability rather than punishment. I know that the mother will have to live with herself and her actions that day for the remainder of her life. And I do sympathize for the pain she has and will continue to endure.
When Benjamin was born and his car seat was installed in the back of my car, I never left my car without looking in the backseat. I did this even when I knew he wasn't in my car, but I was compelled to check anyway.
We have to have a license to drive a car, fly a plane or shoot a gun. But anybody can become a parent. Fortunately, the number of good parents far outweigh those that aren't. Trouble is that the news seldom puts the focus on good people, and that's a shame.
I find it very hard to read stories in the newspaper about children who have been mistreated or died at the hands of an adult. I'm not talking about errors in parental judgment, because we humans do make mistakes. And I understand that. What I'm angry about is when someone willing inflicts pain and/or death upon a child, because that I don't understand.
Sorry for the downer blog - just something I felt strongly that I needed to write.
P
As I write my blog this morning, my blood is literally boiling over the sentence handed down to the mother who left her 8 month old son in her car for seven hours in July with a temperature of nearly 90 degrees. The baby died. That same morning she remembered to drop off her young daughter and older child to their schools. Unfortunately, she failed to remember the baby.
Her sentence? Completion of 18 months of supervised probation and a year on unsupervised probation. That's it? Apparently this case has been about accountability rather than punishment. I know that the mother will have to live with herself and her actions that day for the remainder of her life. And I do sympathize for the pain she has and will continue to endure.
When Benjamin was born and his car seat was installed in the back of my car, I never left my car without looking in the backseat. I did this even when I knew he wasn't in my car, but I was compelled to check anyway.
We have to have a license to drive a car, fly a plane or shoot a gun. But anybody can become a parent. Fortunately, the number of good parents far outweigh those that aren't. Trouble is that the news seldom puts the focus on good people, and that's a shame.
I find it very hard to read stories in the newspaper about children who have been mistreated or died at the hands of an adult. I'm not talking about errors in parental judgment, because we humans do make mistakes. And I understand that. What I'm angry about is when someone willing inflicts pain and/or death upon a child, because that I don't understand.
Sorry for the downer blog - just something I felt strongly that I needed to write.
P
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Lab Work
1/23/2014
Today's rant? Missing lab work. Last week, per doctor's order, I took myself off to a local lab for some testing. Let me start my annoyance with trying to grab a ticket for the parking lot arm to lift. First, I have short arms and there was no way that I was going to be able to reach the ticket. So, luckily there was nobody behind me, because I had to put the car in park, unbuckle the seat belt, physically get out of the car to get the stupid ticket. Then I did all those steps in reverse and went on my way to find a parking spot, which is not always easy.
Once inside the lab, I actually only waited a few minutes which in itself was a shock to my system. I had come prepared with a puzzle book and a pen filled with ink so I could make good use of my down time by trying to keep my mind sharp - or - at the very least look up the answers in the back of the book!
It took mere minutes to draw some blood and to send me on my way. I was delighted that it had been relatively easy, because I am still filled with anxiety over most everything that is not my norm. Once in the lobby, I saw the machine where you were to pay for parking. It was at that exact moment that I realized I only had $1.00 in my wallet! Talk about planning. Luckily, my short time at the lab only cost me a dollar for parking. Still I find it ridiculous to have to pay for parking. I unfolded my lone dollar and tried to press out the wrinkles and managed to get the machine to take my dollar and spit out a receipt.
Next challenge was getting out of the parking lot. Back to the gate where you are supposed to deposit the ticket in a slot to allow the arm to lift. Trouble was twofold: I couldn't seem to find the ticket slot and then realized once again that I wasn't close enough to the ticket box to actually insert the ticket! At this point my irritation was beginning to mount. The guard kept trying to talk to me through a closed window. Guess what? I didn't hear anything he was saying. He finally threw up his arms, actually left his little shack and grabbed my ticket from me, put it in the slot and the arm lifted. I know he wasn't thinking anything nice about the (insert your favorite adjective here) lady who couldn't figure out how to leave a parking lot.
But wait it gets better. My doctor called me the next day to tell me that she hadn't received the results and would I please check on the status. I called the local lab and was referred to some sort of central testing result office (I suspect there is a more technical name, but I don't know what it is). I explained to the probably bored person on the phone that I was looking for my test results. We went through the familiar dance: date of birth, date of test, address, what kind of test, name of doctor, etc. I was put on hold for practically forever when said bored person came back and said that there was no test results for me. I simply wasn't in the database. How I asked could that be possible? Best they could come up was a patient whose birthday was July 17th, mine is December 17th and her name was also Patti. Was that me they wanted to know? Again, insert your favorite descriptive word here that adequately sums up how aggravated I was getting. They also said that the July birthday person had the same doctor as mine. Probable? Not likely. My doctor is in Baltimore and what are the chances of two people with the same first name seeing the same doctor in Baltimore.
Their suggestion was that I called back to the lab here in town to check with them, because they had no records of my having any testing done and perhaps I could just go and have the test done again. Are you serious? You know and I know that if I have a second set of testing done, I'm betting money I'd get to pay for the second lab work, even though this was clearly the lab's screw up.
Today, I called the central testing whatever they call themselves and recited chapter and verse who I was and why I was calling. I did reach a very sympathetic person who did take down all the data that was necessary to find me and she came up empty. So where did my lab work results go? I did ask this person for her name and she promised to call me later today or first thing tomorrow.
If, after her investigating I still can't be found, it will be easier to have the labs done at Hopkins, since I have a doctor's appointment there on Monday. Dealing with the local lab and the lack of results will likely make my head spin off - and you do have to pick your battles.
Lesson learned? Future lab work - going to Baltimore to have it down at Hopkins, where I know the chances of my results being lost are slim.
P
Today's rant? Missing lab work. Last week, per doctor's order, I took myself off to a local lab for some testing. Let me start my annoyance with trying to grab a ticket for the parking lot arm to lift. First, I have short arms and there was no way that I was going to be able to reach the ticket. So, luckily there was nobody behind me, because I had to put the car in park, unbuckle the seat belt, physically get out of the car to get the stupid ticket. Then I did all those steps in reverse and went on my way to find a parking spot, which is not always easy.
Once inside the lab, I actually only waited a few minutes which in itself was a shock to my system. I had come prepared with a puzzle book and a pen filled with ink so I could make good use of my down time by trying to keep my mind sharp - or - at the very least look up the answers in the back of the book!
It took mere minutes to draw some blood and to send me on my way. I was delighted that it had been relatively easy, because I am still filled with anxiety over most everything that is not my norm. Once in the lobby, I saw the machine where you were to pay for parking. It was at that exact moment that I realized I only had $1.00 in my wallet! Talk about planning. Luckily, my short time at the lab only cost me a dollar for parking. Still I find it ridiculous to have to pay for parking. I unfolded my lone dollar and tried to press out the wrinkles and managed to get the machine to take my dollar and spit out a receipt.
Next challenge was getting out of the parking lot. Back to the gate where you are supposed to deposit the ticket in a slot to allow the arm to lift. Trouble was twofold: I couldn't seem to find the ticket slot and then realized once again that I wasn't close enough to the ticket box to actually insert the ticket! At this point my irritation was beginning to mount. The guard kept trying to talk to me through a closed window. Guess what? I didn't hear anything he was saying. He finally threw up his arms, actually left his little shack and grabbed my ticket from me, put it in the slot and the arm lifted. I know he wasn't thinking anything nice about the (insert your favorite adjective here) lady who couldn't figure out how to leave a parking lot.
But wait it gets better. My doctor called me the next day to tell me that she hadn't received the results and would I please check on the status. I called the local lab and was referred to some sort of central testing result office (I suspect there is a more technical name, but I don't know what it is). I explained to the probably bored person on the phone that I was looking for my test results. We went through the familiar dance: date of birth, date of test, address, what kind of test, name of doctor, etc. I was put on hold for practically forever when said bored person came back and said that there was no test results for me. I simply wasn't in the database. How I asked could that be possible? Best they could come up was a patient whose birthday was July 17th, mine is December 17th and her name was also Patti. Was that me they wanted to know? Again, insert your favorite descriptive word here that adequately sums up how aggravated I was getting. They also said that the July birthday person had the same doctor as mine. Probable? Not likely. My doctor is in Baltimore and what are the chances of two people with the same first name seeing the same doctor in Baltimore.
Their suggestion was that I called back to the lab here in town to check with them, because they had no records of my having any testing done and perhaps I could just go and have the test done again. Are you serious? You know and I know that if I have a second set of testing done, I'm betting money I'd get to pay for the second lab work, even though this was clearly the lab's screw up.
Today, I called the central testing whatever they call themselves and recited chapter and verse who I was and why I was calling. I did reach a very sympathetic person who did take down all the data that was necessary to find me and she came up empty. So where did my lab work results go? I did ask this person for her name and she promised to call me later today or first thing tomorrow.
If, after her investigating I still can't be found, it will be easier to have the labs done at Hopkins, since I have a doctor's appointment there on Monday. Dealing with the local lab and the lack of results will likely make my head spin off - and you do have to pick your battles.
Lesson learned? Future lab work - going to Baltimore to have it down at Hopkins, where I know the chances of my results being lost are slim.
P
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Greedy And/Or Just Plain Stupid?
1/22/2014
Once again we have a Governor in the news. What is it with Governors all of a sudden? This time though traffic was not involved. Nope, this time we had a Governor and his wife who accepted "gifts" from a businessman in exchange for special treatment from the state government for his business. I don't think the actions of the Governor pass the "stink" test and even I know that there is generally a price to be paid for things that you receive.
There is an old saying that the rich just get richer, and it's certainly true. We "regular" folk just don't have a rich fairy tale person who is willing to shell out money and/or gifts for us. No, regular people go to work every day and if they want a vacation, a bigger diamond, a house or a new car, they save up their money and/or use their OWN credit card to make those purchases. What a novel idea - paying for your stuff - by yourself.
According to the newspaper, the First Lady lamented that she and the Governor were broke and had large credit card debt. Feeling sorry for her? Not so much.
The First Lady went shopping in New York and with someone else footing the bill, bought Oscar de la Renta clothes ($11,000), something from Louis Vuitton ($5,685) and spent a mere $2,604 at Bergdorf Goodman. These items must be forfeited along with a Giorgio Armani jacket and two matching dresses, two sets of golf clubs and a silver Rolex.
It's hard to feel sorry for two people who own not one but two beach houses they purchased for $2 million and the $1 million home at the Wintergreen resort bought together with the Governor's sisters, and their $835,000 home near Richmond.
I find it difficult to have sympathy for the very rich who have connections (lots of them) that can be and are financially beneficial to them. When does owning so much become too much? Since I won't ever be in that position, I don't have an answer.
While the Governor's story was on the front page of the paper, above the fold, there was a different story in another section of the paper. That story was about families who had no place to stay during the storm. One family stood outside a resource center for over an hour in freezing temperatures to try and get placed somewhere in the shelter system. After their long wait, an official came out to tell them that the center wouldn't be open due to weather and suggested that people call the 24 emergency shelter hotline. One family with seven children were given cots in an activity room at D.C. General Hospital. At the very least these two families were out of the cold at least for one night.
At Motel 6's lowest rate of $39.99 per night times 365 days, the total comes to $14,596.35. Now if you add up the goodies listed above that total comes to $19,289.00. Even though I'm pretty bad with math, even I know that $19,289.00 would buy a lot of nights out of the cold and weather.
I have no sympathy for the Governor and the awkward position he finds himself in. I just can't understand how powerful people become so stupid, or is it that they truly believe they won't be caught?
P
Once again we have a Governor in the news. What is it with Governors all of a sudden? This time though traffic was not involved. Nope, this time we had a Governor and his wife who accepted "gifts" from a businessman in exchange for special treatment from the state government for his business. I don't think the actions of the Governor pass the "stink" test and even I know that there is generally a price to be paid for things that you receive.
There is an old saying that the rich just get richer, and it's certainly true. We "regular" folk just don't have a rich fairy tale person who is willing to shell out money and/or gifts for us. No, regular people go to work every day and if they want a vacation, a bigger diamond, a house or a new car, they save up their money and/or use their OWN credit card to make those purchases. What a novel idea - paying for your stuff - by yourself.
According to the newspaper, the First Lady lamented that she and the Governor were broke and had large credit card debt. Feeling sorry for her? Not so much.
The First Lady went shopping in New York and with someone else footing the bill, bought Oscar de la Renta clothes ($11,000), something from Louis Vuitton ($5,685) and spent a mere $2,604 at Bergdorf Goodman. These items must be forfeited along with a Giorgio Armani jacket and two matching dresses, two sets of golf clubs and a silver Rolex.
It's hard to feel sorry for two people who own not one but two beach houses they purchased for $2 million and the $1 million home at the Wintergreen resort bought together with the Governor's sisters, and their $835,000 home near Richmond.
I find it difficult to have sympathy for the very rich who have connections (lots of them) that can be and are financially beneficial to them. When does owning so much become too much? Since I won't ever be in that position, I don't have an answer.
While the Governor's story was on the front page of the paper, above the fold, there was a different story in another section of the paper. That story was about families who had no place to stay during the storm. One family stood outside a resource center for over an hour in freezing temperatures to try and get placed somewhere in the shelter system. After their long wait, an official came out to tell them that the center wouldn't be open due to weather and suggested that people call the 24 emergency shelter hotline. One family with seven children were given cots in an activity room at D.C. General Hospital. At the very least these two families were out of the cold at least for one night.
At Motel 6's lowest rate of $39.99 per night times 365 days, the total comes to $14,596.35. Now if you add up the goodies listed above that total comes to $19,289.00. Even though I'm pretty bad with math, even I know that $19,289.00 would buy a lot of nights out of the cold and weather.
I have no sympathy for the Governor and the awkward position he finds himself in. I just can't understand how powerful people become so stupid, or is it that they truly believe they won't be caught?
P
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Secretaries
1/21/2014
While rooting around in the basement looking for something, anything that I could toss out or give away, I came across a book that I have owned for years. Title: "Standard Handbook for Secretaries" published in 1973. I believe that at one time early in my career, I probably had this book on my desk at work. And, likely I actually used it.
This book has been sitting in my basement since 1986 collecting dust and has had some water damage to the cover. It looks like I haven't needed a handbook for a long time but for some reason I'm reluctant to just give it a toss. Sentimental? You bet. There was one other book that I used to drag along with me when I switched jobs and it was a small book containing the spelling of the most common words. I can't remember the title, but over the years I used it a lot.
Loving the internet like I do, I decided to check out the "Standard Handbook" to see if it's still available. And it is. Can't imagine who buys it, but on Amazon the edition published in 1969, you can buy the book new from $79.82 to $735.84!!!! Ms. Hutchinson published the handbook from 1936 until 2007. I was hoping to find something on the internet regarding date of birth and/or death, but nothing popped up. All in all, she apparently published 11 editions of the handbook and while I'm sure they are no longer widely used, there must be a few of us "gray hairs" that would find some, but not all, of the information valuable.
A sample of the contents: spelling, pronunciation, postal information, letter writing, telegraph services (now that's old data), extensive information about telephone services (including switchboard) and information about night and weekend telephone rates. Six pages are devoted to dictation (something I really dreaded) and 16 pages about typewritten work. Once I dusted off my book, I chuckled with some of the things written about that are not, and haven't been for many years, relevant.
For instance, carbon paper (which I haven't used in years and years) copies instructions (and I'm not making this stuff up):
While the book is hideously outdated, I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed flipping through the pages of what is now ancient history, to see how both technology as well as office practices have changed over the years.
And in case you're wondering, first class mail as of the 1973 edition was eight cents per ounce!
Well for all of you folks soaking it up in California, or in other warmer climates, it's snowing quite hard here and this is our first major snowstorm of the year (course we're only 21 days into the year). Falling snow is so beautiful but snowing brings along other things not quite so lovely - like shoveling! Luckily for me, as a mother of sons, I never had to shovel, that was something that was done by Jeff and/or the boys.
Enjoy the weather wherever your are.
P
While rooting around in the basement looking for something, anything that I could toss out or give away, I came across a book that I have owned for years. Title: "Standard Handbook for Secretaries" published in 1973. I believe that at one time early in my career, I probably had this book on my desk at work. And, likely I actually used it.
This book has been sitting in my basement since 1986 collecting dust and has had some water damage to the cover. It looks like I haven't needed a handbook for a long time but for some reason I'm reluctant to just give it a toss. Sentimental? You bet. There was one other book that I used to drag along with me when I switched jobs and it was a small book containing the spelling of the most common words. I can't remember the title, but over the years I used it a lot.
Loving the internet like I do, I decided to check out the "Standard Handbook" to see if it's still available. And it is. Can't imagine who buys it, but on Amazon the edition published in 1969, you can buy the book new from $79.82 to $735.84!!!! Ms. Hutchinson published the handbook from 1936 until 2007. I was hoping to find something on the internet regarding date of birth and/or death, but nothing popped up. All in all, she apparently published 11 editions of the handbook and while I'm sure they are no longer widely used, there must be a few of us "gray hairs" that would find some, but not all, of the information valuable.
A sample of the contents: spelling, pronunciation, postal information, letter writing, telegraph services (now that's old data), extensive information about telephone services (including switchboard) and information about night and weekend telephone rates. Six pages are devoted to dictation (something I really dreaded) and 16 pages about typewritten work. Once I dusted off my book, I chuckled with some of the things written about that are not, and haven't been for many years, relevant.
For instance, carbon paper (which I haven't used in years and years) copies instructions (and I'm not making this stuff up):
- clear the desk of all papers but the job on hand.
- Place the different kinds of paper to be used out on the desk, so there will be no constant pulling out of drawers to get new papers
- count the number of sheets of carbon paper to be used as well as count the number of white sheets to be used each time, before inserting the carbon paper.
While the book is hideously outdated, I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed flipping through the pages of what is now ancient history, to see how both technology as well as office practices have changed over the years.
And in case you're wondering, first class mail as of the 1973 edition was eight cents per ounce!
Well for all of you folks soaking it up in California, or in other warmer climates, it's snowing quite hard here and this is our first major snowstorm of the year (course we're only 21 days into the year). Falling snow is so beautiful but snowing brings along other things not quite so lovely - like shoveling! Luckily for me, as a mother of sons, I never had to shovel, that was something that was done by Jeff and/or the boys.
Enjoy the weather wherever your are.
P
Monday, January 20, 2014
Flying
1/20/2014
Yesterday, in the late afternoon, Jeff and I took our "baby" (the plane) out for a short flight. We're still breaking in the new engine, which gives us an excuse (not that we need one), to go flying. The heater in the plane is way better than the a/c. In the heat of the summer, it can get pretty warm inside, particularly during a long flight. But even getting a bit hot is a small price to pay for the immense pleasure we get while we bore holes in the sky! Now if we had a tit-for-tat kind of marriage, then based on the cost of the new engine - yours truly would literally be dripping in diamonds!
When you're flying, you can look down and see the cars on the freeway and if it's dark all the houses lit up and brilliant stars. We both like the sound of a small plane but from the ground, I can't decipher one little plane from another. What I do know is that someone up there is having one heck of a good time while pursuing their hobby or dream - or both.
While I was in the air last night, I jotted down the following on a piece of scrap paper. Mind you this is not even remotely in the same category as Keats, but for the spur of the moment, I thought it wasn't too bad:
I don't know how it is for other small plane owners, but I know that for Jeff, any day when his schedule is empty (or mostly) and the sun is shining, gives him a good enough reason to go out there and do what he loves doing. He came to flying a little later in life, but the joy that he and I get out of being able to fly pretty much anywhere and anytime (weather permitting), can't adequately be described in words. Just trust me when I tell you that buying the plane was hands down the best decision we ever made! No regrets.
So when you're out in your yard and you hear a small plane flying overhead, look up and know that there is at least one person inside that plane that is having the time of their life.
P
Yesterday, in the late afternoon, Jeff and I took our "baby" (the plane) out for a short flight. We're still breaking in the new engine, which gives us an excuse (not that we need one), to go flying. The heater in the plane is way better than the a/c. In the heat of the summer, it can get pretty warm inside, particularly during a long flight. But even getting a bit hot is a small price to pay for the immense pleasure we get while we bore holes in the sky! Now if we had a tit-for-tat kind of marriage, then based on the cost of the new engine - yours truly would literally be dripping in diamonds!
When you're flying, you can look down and see the cars on the freeway and if it's dark all the houses lit up and brilliant stars. We both like the sound of a small plane but from the ground, I can't decipher one little plane from another. What I do know is that someone up there is having one heck of a good time while pursuing their hobby or dream - or both.
While I was in the air last night, I jotted down the following on a piece of scrap paper. Mind you this is not even remotely in the same category as Keats, but for the spur of the moment, I thought it wasn't too bad:
When I fly high in the air
It gives me time to stop and stare
At all the houses in a row
And people going to and fro
Where do all the people go?
Only each of them know!
So when you're out in your yard and you hear a small plane flying overhead, look up and know that there is at least one person inside that plane that is having the time of their life.
P
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Coupons
1/19/2014
Today is Sunday, which means that there are glossy pages filled with coupons tucked inside the newspaper. And for some stupid (and I really do mean stupid) reason, I feel compelled to look at every one of those coupons. Why do I subject myself to this week after week? Who knows. I obviously don't need a coupon for disposable diapers, or hair coloring (only because I refuse to disguise my gray hair - I don't want anybody to question my right to have the senior citizen discount!)
One thing that annoys me, and believe me, there are others, is the $1.00 off if you buy TWO of something. I don't want or need to buy two containers of dish liquid soap, body wash, jars of pickles, etc. Well, you get the idea. There is only so much room in somebody's house to hold containers, cans and jars of stuff. And I am simply running out of room! Jeff and I have always had a very complete and full pantry, refrigerator and freezer and it's not a secret among the family that our house is the place to go if you get hungry! If, and it's a big if, I ran out of dish soap during a blizzard, the world would not come to an end. There are always paper plates, etc., I could use in a pinch. Over the years we simply moved away from using "real" dishes in favor of paper, but with belt tightening in place, I have resumed to washing dishes as opposed to throwing away disposable dishes.
Yesterday, I dutifully sat down and clipped a few coupons for dog snacks, aluminum foil and a few other products that we ACTUALLY use. Now here's what's going to happen to those coupons, because this is what always happens. I will put them in my purse where they will stay at the bottom and get crushed and/or wrinkled and be completely forgotten. I will find them only when I get around to cleaning out my purse (and that doesn't happen very often). I also never remember the expiration date of coupons, so if I'm in a store and suddenly get a brain flash that I do have a coupon(s), and I can find them, they are almost always out of date. So what's the point of cutting them out in the first place?
I have in the past watched that Extreme Couponers (not sure how you spell that) show where women have binders that look like something a bodybuilder would use to build muscles, instead of pumping iron. They spend hours, and I do mean hours, looking at coupons, clipping, sorting and planning a strategic trip to the store. Some of these people do dumpster diving for extra coupons (yuck). Do they save money? Of course they do, but when you look at their stash of products, it makes me wonder if you really need enough toothpaste to last you for the next four years. What if you decide you don't like that product any more? Plus, I am never going to use a coupon for a product that I either don't use or want. That doesn't make good sense to me. Be assured you'll never see me on any extreme coupon show!
But since I did cut out some coupons today, whether I use them or not, isn't the point. The point is that I'm proud of myself for TRYING to save some money. Even if I never use them, my intent was good and that's enough for me.
P
Today is Sunday, which means that there are glossy pages filled with coupons tucked inside the newspaper. And for some stupid (and I really do mean stupid) reason, I feel compelled to look at every one of those coupons. Why do I subject myself to this week after week? Who knows. I obviously don't need a coupon for disposable diapers, or hair coloring (only because I refuse to disguise my gray hair - I don't want anybody to question my right to have the senior citizen discount!)
One thing that annoys me, and believe me, there are others, is the $1.00 off if you buy TWO of something. I don't want or need to buy two containers of dish liquid soap, body wash, jars of pickles, etc. Well, you get the idea. There is only so much room in somebody's house to hold containers, cans and jars of stuff. And I am simply running out of room! Jeff and I have always had a very complete and full pantry, refrigerator and freezer and it's not a secret among the family that our house is the place to go if you get hungry! If, and it's a big if, I ran out of dish soap during a blizzard, the world would not come to an end. There are always paper plates, etc., I could use in a pinch. Over the years we simply moved away from using "real" dishes in favor of paper, but with belt tightening in place, I have resumed to washing dishes as opposed to throwing away disposable dishes.
Yesterday, I dutifully sat down and clipped a few coupons for dog snacks, aluminum foil and a few other products that we ACTUALLY use. Now here's what's going to happen to those coupons, because this is what always happens. I will put them in my purse where they will stay at the bottom and get crushed and/or wrinkled and be completely forgotten. I will find them only when I get around to cleaning out my purse (and that doesn't happen very often). I also never remember the expiration date of coupons, so if I'm in a store and suddenly get a brain flash that I do have a coupon(s), and I can find them, they are almost always out of date. So what's the point of cutting them out in the first place?
I have in the past watched that Extreme Couponers (not sure how you spell that) show where women have binders that look like something a bodybuilder would use to build muscles, instead of pumping iron. They spend hours, and I do mean hours, looking at coupons, clipping, sorting and planning a strategic trip to the store. Some of these people do dumpster diving for extra coupons (yuck). Do they save money? Of course they do, but when you look at their stash of products, it makes me wonder if you really need enough toothpaste to last you for the next four years. What if you decide you don't like that product any more? Plus, I am never going to use a coupon for a product that I either don't use or want. That doesn't make good sense to me. Be assured you'll never see me on any extreme coupon show!
But since I did cut out some coupons today, whether I use them or not, isn't the point. The point is that I'm proud of myself for TRYING to save some money. Even if I never use them, my intent was good and that's enough for me.
P
Friday, January 17, 2014
Tidying Up
1/17/2014
I live in a mostly tidy neighborhood. What does that mean exactly? Here lawns are mowed regularly, bushes trimmed, leaves are picked up during the fall season.and sidewalks are shoveled when it snows. And like in every neighborhood there are exceptions - there always is. One of my biggest gripes is pushing, raking or sweeping your fallen leaves out onto the street and then just leave them there. Why do people do that? Do they think the "picking up fairy" is magically going to appear and take care of this little task for them? Well guess what folks, the fairy's not coming, so do your neighbors a favor and grab your rake, get a leaf bag and pick up this little eyesore. Perhaps it's the OCD side of me that finds these old, sodden leaves so annoying. I'm unsure how these neighbors would react if I just went down the street with my leaf bag and picked up after them.
I noticed in the paper today how many neighborhoods are annoyed by the Christmas decorations left up long after Christmas is over. I do admit that I don't much care for the inflatable Santas, etc. that adorn some lawns, but to each his own. I'm happy to see that for the most part the blow up decorations do seem to disappear quickly once the holidays have passed. As for the grumbling that I read about in the paper over Christmas lights being left up, I like those lights. I have always enjoyed Christmas lights and probably always will. I have a string of small lights on my fireplace mantel and they get turned on every night when I watch television. Would I leave them up on my house after Christmas? No because I'm pretty sure that somebody would take offense. Now if I lived out on acreage, I'd leave the lights up all year long - In my opinion they're pretty.
I did watch several weeks ago a show called something like Lighting Wars where several homes, the homeowners took their Christmas decorating seriously were on television. These houses had not hundreds but thousands of lights (and sometimes they blinked on and off), animated animals, and anything else you could possibly think of to put in your yard or on the house. Homes like this were really a disturbance to the neighbors and I can understand why. But while I believe each to his own, I still think that you should be thoughtful of the people around you.
When the boys were at home, Scott outlined the roof of our house and the porch posts and bushes with small lights and it was glorious to come home after work and see the house beautifully lit up. Our rule was that the lights had to come down (weather permitting), or at the very least be turned off shortly after Christmas. Scott has his own home now and I'm pretty sure that he hasn't abandoned his love of outdoor lights
I live in a mostly tidy neighborhood. What does that mean exactly? Here lawns are mowed regularly, bushes trimmed, leaves are picked up during the fall season.and sidewalks are shoveled when it snows. And like in every neighborhood there are exceptions - there always is. One of my biggest gripes is pushing, raking or sweeping your fallen leaves out onto the street and then just leave them there. Why do people do that? Do they think the "picking up fairy" is magically going to appear and take care of this little task for them? Well guess what folks, the fairy's not coming, so do your neighbors a favor and grab your rake, get a leaf bag and pick up this little eyesore. Perhaps it's the OCD side of me that finds these old, sodden leaves so annoying. I'm unsure how these neighbors would react if I just went down the street with my leaf bag and picked up after them.
I noticed in the paper today how many neighborhoods are annoyed by the Christmas decorations left up long after Christmas is over. I do admit that I don't much care for the inflatable Santas, etc. that adorn some lawns, but to each his own. I'm happy to see that for the most part the blow up decorations do seem to disappear quickly once the holidays have passed. As for the grumbling that I read about in the paper over Christmas lights being left up, I like those lights. I have always enjoyed Christmas lights and probably always will. I have a string of small lights on my fireplace mantel and they get turned on every night when I watch television. Would I leave them up on my house after Christmas? No because I'm pretty sure that somebody would take offense. Now if I lived out on acreage, I'd leave the lights up all year long - In my opinion they're pretty.
I did watch several weeks ago a show called something like Lighting Wars where several homes, the homeowners took their Christmas decorating seriously were on television. These houses had not hundreds but thousands of lights (and sometimes they blinked on and off), animated animals, and anything else you could possibly think of to put in your yard or on the house. Homes like this were really a disturbance to the neighbors and I can understand why. But while I believe each to his own, I still think that you should be thoughtful of the people around you.
When the boys were at home, Scott outlined the roof of our house and the porch posts and bushes with small lights and it was glorious to come home after work and see the house beautifully lit up. Our rule was that the lights had to come down (weather permitting), or at the very least be turned off shortly after Christmas. Scott has his own home now and I'm pretty sure that he hasn't abandoned his love of outdoor lights
Thursday, January 16, 2014
American Idol
1/16/2014
I don't know if you watched (or suffered) through night one of American Idol's auditions. Okay, I watched - sort of. Actually, I thought the commercials were better than the show and that's saying a lot!
At least this year the judge's seemed compassionate when they had to dash someone's dream of becoming the next Idol. The people that I saw auditioning last night (and I flip-flopped between Idol and another reality show that was cheesy but much more entertaining), were so very young. I'm not a good judge of good singing, because I can't sing - and when I find a song that does make me feel compelled to sing along - I'm either in the shower or my car, where nobody has to listen to my very off key warbling. I'm not being modest - it's pretty bad - just take my word for it.
At least we don't have to suffer through a season with Simon Cowell, who, more often than not, I thought was far too blunt with his criticism and I'm pretty sure that the wanna be stars were devastated by his comments (I know I would be).
I admire the young people who audition in hopes of having a happy ending. At the end of the day, everyone who auditions week after week know that there is only going to be one American Idol. It's likely that for most of the contestants their chances are slim, and they know this. Reminds me of buying a lottery ticket and actually expecting to win a million dollars. Doesn't seem likely and since I don't buy any lottery tickets, my chances are nil.
I used to wish I could be a stand-up comedian, or act in a local play. Not since my small role in my senior play in 1967, I have never uttered a word on stage, and know I never will. I don't have the guts to put myself out there and open myself up to negative criticism. Even writing about "Wilma" is a stretch for me, I know that at the end of the story, if I ever get that far, all I will have to show for my efforts is a ream of paper, filled with black ink.
I will continue to watch American Idol and will likely after a few weeks have picked out a favorite that I will be silently rooting for. I know they can't all be the winner, but for each week that they stand up on stage and sing their hearts out, they are all winners in my book - at least they are out there chasing their dreams.
P
I don't know if you watched (or suffered) through night one of American Idol's auditions. Okay, I watched - sort of. Actually, I thought the commercials were better than the show and that's saying a lot!
At least this year the judge's seemed compassionate when they had to dash someone's dream of becoming the next Idol. The people that I saw auditioning last night (and I flip-flopped between Idol and another reality show that was cheesy but much more entertaining), were so very young. I'm not a good judge of good singing, because I can't sing - and when I find a song that does make me feel compelled to sing along - I'm either in the shower or my car, where nobody has to listen to my very off key warbling. I'm not being modest - it's pretty bad - just take my word for it.
At least we don't have to suffer through a season with Simon Cowell, who, more often than not, I thought was far too blunt with his criticism and I'm pretty sure that the wanna be stars were devastated by his comments (I know I would be).
I admire the young people who audition in hopes of having a happy ending. At the end of the day, everyone who auditions week after week know that there is only going to be one American Idol. It's likely that for most of the contestants their chances are slim, and they know this. Reminds me of buying a lottery ticket and actually expecting to win a million dollars. Doesn't seem likely and since I don't buy any lottery tickets, my chances are nil.
I used to wish I could be a stand-up comedian, or act in a local play. Not since my small role in my senior play in 1967, I have never uttered a word on stage, and know I never will. I don't have the guts to put myself out there and open myself up to negative criticism. Even writing about "Wilma" is a stretch for me, I know that at the end of the story, if I ever get that far, all I will have to show for my efforts is a ream of paper, filled with black ink.
I will continue to watch American Idol and will likely after a few weeks have picked out a favorite that I will be silently rooting for. I know they can't all be the winner, but for each week that they stand up on stage and sing their hearts out, they are all winners in my book - at least they are out there chasing their dreams.
P
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Coffee or Tea?
1/15/2014
Let's go back to 1974 - May to be precise. I had just begun dating Jeff and as an adult of 25, had never had a cup of coffee. To be sure I could doctor my Dad's coffee exactly how he liked it - a bit of cream and "99 grains" of sugar! Dad would never have asked for anything as exacting as a teaspoon of sugar. No only he and I referred to the "teaspoon" of sugar I put in his cup as just 99 grains.
Oh back to May of '74, and dating Jeff. He told me one night before visiting friends that had I noticed that when offered a drink after dinner, the offer was for a cup of coffee - not for a cup of tea. I was thinking to myself - and your point? Oh and he had one two other thoughts about coffee: (1) first you need to learn to drink coffee; and (2) you need to drink it black. He assured me that nobody wanted to have to drag out milk or creamer and/or sugar. So I went into training - coffee drinking. My first cup of black coffee was disgusting. All I could think of was why do so many people drink this tar like concoction and they do it willing - and every day! Ick. But not one to give up, I soldered on. Pretty soon I was not having any trouble downing my first cup in the morning, followed by multiple ones throughout the day. Basically, it came down to this: I could at that point literally drink Jeff under the table when it came to coffee! Frankly, I believe I still can - though it's in no way a competition - much.
In this morning's paper I was delighted to see a huge article in the Food Section all about coffee, and the myriad of devices out there to help you brew your morning cup. Some of these new devices look like they might have come from outer space and their prices are really deal breakers - at least for me.
Let's go back to 1974 - May to be precise. I had just begun dating Jeff and as an adult of 25, had never had a cup of coffee. To be sure I could doctor my Dad's coffee exactly how he liked it - a bit of cream and "99 grains" of sugar! Dad would never have asked for anything as exacting as a teaspoon of sugar. No only he and I referred to the "teaspoon" of sugar I put in his cup as just 99 grains.
Oh back to May of '74, and dating Jeff. He told me one night before visiting friends that had I noticed that when offered a drink after dinner, the offer was for a cup of coffee - not for a cup of tea. I was thinking to myself - and your point? Oh and he had one two other thoughts about coffee: (1) first you need to learn to drink coffee; and (2) you need to drink it black. He assured me that nobody wanted to have to drag out milk or creamer and/or sugar. So I went into training - coffee drinking. My first cup of black coffee was disgusting. All I could think of was why do so many people drink this tar like concoction and they do it willing - and every day! Ick. But not one to give up, I soldered on. Pretty soon I was not having any trouble downing my first cup in the morning, followed by multiple ones throughout the day. Basically, it came down to this: I could at that point literally drink Jeff under the table when it came to coffee! Frankly, I believe I still can - though it's in no way a competition - much.
In this morning's paper I was delighted to see a huge article in the Food Section all about coffee, and the myriad of devices out there to help you brew your morning cup. Some of these new devices look like they might have come from outer space and their prices are really deal breakers - at least for me.
I don't know if you remember but there was a time when every home had a little aluminum coffeepot that you used on your stove. It looked something like this:
After the Corning Ware coffee pot, I know that my parents went through a lot of different coffee pots and eventually coffee was no boiled coffee on the stove. Eventually electricity came to the lowly coffee pot and we Americans have never looked back. There was a time when it seemed like every household owned a Mister Coffee, or something similar..
But now we've gone high tech with our coffee drinking. After putting up with numerous coffee makers over the years, emptying the grounds, grinding the beans, etc., I finally encouraged (okay maybe I begged) the other half to consider the Keurig machine. One cup at a time - no grounds, no grinding. Just cute little cups (though terribly pricey) that made one cup at a time and any flavor you wanted. I love my Keurig and the taste of freshly brewed coffee each and every time. Coffee done - drop your little K cup into the trash, no fuss and no muss. Perfect.
So with a full page article about coffee making devices in the paper today, I had to check out what I might be missing - turns out not much. There are several little devices, all relatively cheap, that make one cup at a time, but with one device you have to use specific filters (when something needs "specific" anything, then it's been my experience that adds up to $$). Another one requires that the user needs to learn water pouring techniques (seriously?) and again those specific filters. Another one doesn't require any special pouring skills (thank goodness) but you can't put it in the dishwasher and it stains.
The priciest one, starting at $279 and requires no special pouring skills. It makes good coffee but takes up a lot of counter space (bummer), the decanter is breakable and has more equipment to clean than other devices. Where do I sign up to buy such a "wonderful" gadget?
Trust me there were other coffee makers mentioned in the article and some of them looked like they were from outer space. Bottom line: they all make coffee. Just depends on how much fuss and muss you're willing put up with and whether you believe that the more expensive the equipment is, the better the coffee. Ultimately, we know that's not true. And, I have never once been asked by anyone what kind of coffee pot (maker or whatever you want to call it), I use. Folks just aren't that interested - all they want is a cup of coffee - and there are any number of devices out there that can do just that.
Speaking of coffee, my cup is empty and it's time to get out of the chair and go do something!
P
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Wilma Part Two
1/14/2014
Wilma (2nd page).....
So
while I’ve been sitting in the chair, my mind has wandered off, which is okay
and even expected, when you reach a certain age (it turns out to be a perk, and it maybe the only perk of being old)! I break free from my revere when I hear,
rather than see, the attorney slap an envelope onto the desk. I stare at my name, which is written in my
husband’s handwriting, and know that once I read this letter, there won’t be
any others from him. Oh I suppose he could become an angel or something and
drop by for a visit, which would certainly scare the crap out of me, and that would certainly shorten my lifespan. This letter just can’t be good news. He wasn’t much of a letter writer while he
was alive, so why am a getting a letter now? My mind
goes off in a thousand different directions while I continually tap the envelope on
the corner of the desk.
“Wilma,
please try and concentrate. I know you
haven’t heard a thing I’ve said so far, which I understand. But, facts are
facts – your husband has died and he gave me some very specific instructions.
“What
instructions? Does he believe that he
can control what I do even from the grave? I already know he wanted to go out - on the
cheap in a cardboard box if I could find one that I could squeeze him into. He wanted no service, no limo, no flowers, pretty much
nothing.” Trust me I’m going to send
him off just the way he wanted. I
certainly don’t want to deny him his final request and it's for sure I'm not going to waste any of my money unnecessarily. And out of respect, I won’t call 1-800-Got
Junk for at least a week."
After
the umpteenth time of watching Fred check his watch, I just couldn’t remain quiet a minute longer. “Fred, am I keeping you from something
or more likely someone more important? You have
checked that stupid watch constantly and I don’t want to keep you from anything that you need to be doing. I know when I’ve worn out my welcome, so if
you’ll excuse me I’ll see myself out.”
“Wilma,
please calm down. I’m not trying to rush
you, it’s just that I don’t know how to best handle your husband’s last
request.”
“You
mean he had a last request? Seriously? You mean a request other than to be as frugal (which is simply a nice word for cheap) when it comes to taking care of his remains. I can and will send him off as cheaply as I can. Trust me I can do that. I cannot believe that even after death, he's got just one more thing to say to me. He's gone, and now I'm going to play the game of life my way. I was a good wife and Alan controlled the show, as well as our life much, if not all, of the time. Since I'm clear on what kind of send off he wanted, what else is there to talk about? To really save on money, I intend to cremate him and instead of investing in an urn (and you know they can be pretty pricey), I'm just going to put his ashes in my flower bed along with the petunias. Maybe he'll be good for the soil!
Watching
the irritated look on Fred’s face, I decided to calm down and put on my best
nice old lady face, which generally allows me to get my way. “Sorry Fred I swear I’m listening. What letter?
And don’t bother to tell me that you don’t have a clue, because I’m not
buying that story. I may be old but
clearly I wasn’t born yesterday, so cut the crap and talk to me.” You know and I know that he didn’t just stop
by to drop off this letter and have coffee and a chat with you. Need I remind you that talking to you costs
money, and Allen hated wasting money.”........
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