Tag Archives: humor

That Girl Ain’t Right in Her Brain…

jumping-brain-greenLet me tell you what hap…..look, a squirrel…happened to…Is it lunch time?

I ended 2012 in a quiet way.  I started New Year’s Eve alone in a motel room, lazily sleeping in.  I was wrapping up a 2 week visit to the frozen Midwest to celebrate the holidays with family.  I stood in the hotel bathroom…trying to decide – jacuzzi bath or quick shower…jacuzzi bath or quick shower.  I had indulged in the jacuzzi bath the previous evening because I am old and the cold weather made everything hurt so much.  My skin, unaccustomed to a fortnight of the dry heated air of my former homeland, was becoming flaky and scaly.  So I opted for a steamy shower…to be followed with a slathering of assorted concoctions forbidden by the airlines to be transported in my carry on, in an effort to restore some semblance of moisture to my skin.

While shampooing my hair, I was suddenly assaulted with a stinging spray of scalding hot water…I reached down, eyes closed, to adjust the shower temperature and – WHACK…smacked my head on a shelf in the shower designed to be a permanently affixed soap dish.  I didn’t knock myself out or anything, but I definitely saw stars and swayed a little bit, suds streaming into my eyes.  I steadied myself and finished the shower – a tiny goose egg appearing at my left temple at the hairline.

I finished my final family visit, returned the rental car, and flew home.  As much as I hate flying, I have to say that my flights went extremely smoothly.  I arrived home shortly before midnight, and welcomed the New Year with an embrace from my loving Sweet Cheeks and was nearly knocked over by my fluffy 95 pound fur-kid, so complete was her joy at seeing me again.  All was right with the world.  Life is good.

The next day, while watching an endless stream of forgettable bowl games, I realized I couldn’t read the scores on the television screen.  Thinking my glasses were dirty, I cleaned them repeatedly – but the situation did not improve.  I awoke at 3:00 am with a screaming headache unlike any I had ever experienced.  I’ve had migraines for years and this was definitely not a migraine.  I drug myself to work.  I obsessively cleaned my glasses, trying to get my vision to clear up.  The headache raged on, and I developed a sensitivity to light that required me to stay in my office with the blind pulled and the lights off.  I noticed a difficulty with concentration, and a feeling that something was just not right…but my brain did not connect the dots.  Half of my time was spent thinking something was wrong and the other half spent thinking everything was all right, sometimes in the same minute.  I remembered hitting my head, but somehow really couldn’t understand the severity of the situation.  Or figure out what to do.

On Friday I had some tests scheduled, and was feeling even more strange.  My headache raged on, and I developed double vision.  I had driven myself to the testing center, but the receptionist could see that I was struggling and suggested I call my doctor.  I managed to get myself home.  I e-mailed the boss and told her I couldn’t make it in to work.  I called the doctor and explained the situation.  Their office was full of patients with flu-like symptoms and they couldn’t squeeze me in.  They instructed me to get to their walk-in clinic for evaluation.  A physician examined me and wanted to get a CT scan to make sure I didn’t have a bleed going on in my brain.  He tried getting me into their imaging center, but it was too late in the day and he didn’t want to wait over the weekend.  He directed me to the Emergency Room, and called ahead to explain what was needed.

Over an 8 hour period, the first part spent with my head under a blanket trying to block out the sights, bright lights, and piercing screeches of the unwashed multitudes that gather in a hospital ER on a Friday night, I waited to find out if there was anything untoward going on in my skull.  More than usual, I mean.  There is always something untoward going on in my skull, which at that time felt as if it would explode.  I was finally moved to the “quiet room”.  The one where family members usually receive bad news.  In the dark, we waited and waited…

My husband, never a patient man under the best of circumstances, wheedled, agitated, advocated, demanded, and issued mildly worded veiled threats to move the overwhelmed and understaffed personnel to obtain a CT scan, read the CT scan, and see to my situation.  For nearly 8 hours he pushed the limits of acceptable behavior in order to achieve his mission.

brain2

The good news – there was no bleeding going on in my skull.  The bad news – I had likely sustained a concussion from the blow to the head and was experiencing post-concussive syndrome.  The symptoms – vision disturbances, memory issues, headaches, inability to concentrate, issues with problem solving – can last for weeks, or even longer.

So, it pains me to say that I’ll not be able to quarterback any football teams…I won’t likely write an award-winning novel this week, and I may even forget to put on underwear.  On the bright side – I can’t concentrate for very long on the sad and depressing things that had brought my blogging to an abrupt stop last month.  I’ve got some drafts I may pull out but mostly I’m going to try to get myself…oh, look…a sandwich!!!

Maybe I’ll be like Mama Cass.  It was rumored (and she even stated in an interview with Rolling Stone) that her voice was changed after being hit on the head with a piece of pipe and suffering a concussion.  Maybe I WILL write an award-winning novel…what was I saying?

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BlogFestivus 2012 – Cupid

BlogFestivus 2012 – 243 words – 9 days – 9 Reindeer (wait, are there 9?)

Cupid lay beside Blitzen, his face turned toward the wall, sheet drawn up to his chin.

“What is it, Cupie? Is something wrong?”

“I’m…just tired. That’s all. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“It’s okay – let’s just snuggle”, Blitzen lazily stroked his back with her hooves.  “There’s always tomorrow morning,” she whispered in his ear.

Cupid tossed back the sheet and sprang from Blitzen’s reach.   He pulled her bra from his antler – tossed it to her. “What about Donner. Won’t he be expecting you home?”  The beauty of having an affair with a married doe was that he wasn’t expected to serve breakfast.  The stolen moments were quite enough for this buck, thank you very much.  He paced.

“He’s out-of-town. Helping a ‘friend’ with a business deal,” Blitzen snorted. “I can just imagine. That slut Vixen is conveniently out-of-town, as well. I tried to set up an emergency meeting, and she’s ‘unavailable’.  I know a load of doe diarrhea when I hear it.”

“Emergency meeting?”

“Yes, Santa’s getting out of rehab…the Sheriff has been nosing around, wanting to know where all the reindeer are.  Someone must have tipped him off.  Rudolph hasn’t been seen in weeks.  Then that ransom note.  There’s only 10 days till Christmas – we need a plan.”

Cupid continued pacing.   That last meeting of the Reindeer club had been quite the…well, the only word that came to mind was “cluster”.  Damn it.  They were running out of time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

These fine folks are also participating in the BlogFestivus 2012 writing contest. Check it out!

Blogdramedy – The Hostess with the mostest

Steve Betz – the holiday mixer.

Rewind Revise – newly married and on her very own joy train.

Lenore Diane — thoughts from the Elf Queen herself.

Shouts from the Abyss – Tom’s on a mission to blighten your holiday season.

Fix it or Deal — Amy Severson bringing it robot-style.

Lynn Schneider Books — Lynn, the BlogFestivus newbie.

1 Point Perspective — the Bruce Willis of WordPress.

So I Went Undercover — she’s undercover and that’s all I’ll say about that.

Joe Owen’s Blog — he’s got forty-something eyes. Not Betty Davis eyes.

MC’s Whispers – Maria-Christina works in PR. What kind of “spin” will she put on this writing challenge?

LittleWonder2 – a musical surfing vampire lover. I know.

Blog It or Lose It! – One word. Minecraft.

Voice in Me — Reena’s from India…where reindeer go on vacation.

Apprentice, never master – Gwendolyn, the fearless.

A Year of Daily Posts — Sarah, the paperback writer (three manuscripts but they count.)

Diary of a Sensitive Soul — Immie, blogging from the U.K. (Why am I feeling Bruce Springsteen?)

Dot Knows! — Liz, the life changer.

A Spoonful of Suga – Making reality sexy.

Random Says – in the moment. At the moment.

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Professor k8edid Answers Your End of Semester Questions

These are actual questions my students have asked, in person, on the phone, or via e-mail over the course of this semester.

Dear Professor K8edid:

I don’t know what happened on that last quiz.  I would like to retake it as soon as possible.  I have not slept in 3 days worrying about my grade.  See, I must have an A in all my classes to get into the PhD program I want.  I have calculated my grade over and over and I do not see any way that I can get an A.  Am I doing something wrong?   I.M. Sleepy

Dear I.M.S. – this is an introductory math class in which you will learn to calculate medication dosages.  For medications that could KILL PEOPLE.   I don’t know what you are doing wrong, but I can tell you this.  I calculated your grade this morning while writing a midterm exam, balancing a cup of coffee on my knee, and answering a butt-load of student e-mails on what should have been a restful Saturday.  I did this with a freakin’ hangover, painful fallen arches, and low blood sugar.  I have calculated 6 different ways that you could get an A in this class.  Since you can’t pass this medication dosage quiz or calculate your own grade, however, I’ve decided you don’t deserve one.  I will deduct nuisance points now and for each whiny e-mail I get from you till the end of the semester.  And that Ph.D. program you want to get into?  I hope it is not in math.

Professor K8edid:  Do you have MS?  a concerned and nosy student

Dear C&NS – No, I do not have MS.  Thank you for asking, though. Maybe you meant to ask if I have PMS?  No, not that either.  Now please read the chapter on conducting a medical history interview.  I can assure you that I am perfectly healthy, and of sound mind.  One of my personalities tells me to flunk your ass, but the others have talked me into letting you continue in the class.  No more personal questions, though.  Some of them just might be persuaded to change their minds.

Dear Professor K8edid:  I desperately need to meet with you to discuss my grade on that last quiz.  I know you have office hours on Tuesday from 1 – 4.  I can come after work at 4:30.  Would that be all right?  – Failure is Not an Option but Appears Inevitable

Dear FINAOBAI:  By all means come by my office after work.  Since it will be after work for me as well, I shall probably pass you in the hallway on my way out.  Or maybe I will already be at happy hour.   Since I won’t be there, I shall just tape your last quiz on the window for all the world to see.  Would that be all right?

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Dear Professor K8edid:  Where can I find the assignments for this week?  – too busy texting to pay attention

Dear TBTTPA:  You could look on the syllabus.  You know, the one posted on-line.  The one I printed out and handed to you on the first day of class.  The one that you signed a receipt for – that you have received, read, and understood the contents of?  Or look on-line under the weekly assignment tab.  The one I point out every week.  Or just text me every week like you’ve been doing.  Since I don’t text back, that seems to be working pretty well, don’t you think?

Dear Professor K8edid:  I just got my schedule for next semester and I see that you are teaching one of my classes.  Will that class be easier than this one? – Wanting to Skate

Dear WTS:  Yes, of course the next course will be easier.  That is what getting an education is all about.  You pay a bunch of money (or rather, you get a butt load of money from the government – you pass it over to the school) and we just give you a diploma.  You should never have to work hard for that.  You want to be a nurse but you don’t want to work hard?  Get a freakin’ clue.  Prepare yourself for the next 4 semesters.  You will not sleep; if you do you will see nothing but concept maps, accidental fingers-sticks and nursing care plans in your nightmares. You will not eat.  If you do eat you will throw up.  You will not be without a book in your hand over the next 2 years.  Deal with it.

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Professor K8edid:  I read the chapter and did the assignments as outlined in the syllabus.  However, I saw a You-Tube video that contradicts some of the information in the textbook.  Can you address this discrepancy in class?  – Seeker of Knowledge

Dear SOK:  Um, no.  If you want a diploma from You-Tube-iversity, then continue to get your knowledge from that source.

Dear Professor K8edid:  Will that be on the final? – Undermotivated/Overwhelmed

Dear U/O.  Yes.  All of it.

Dear Professor K8edid:  Is there anything I can do to get a better grade? – Wanting More

Dear WM:  When you repeat this class next semester, try studying, turning in assignments, and practicing skills.

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Dear Professor K8edid:  I am very shy.  I just know I will not be able to participate in the skills demonstrations required because I suffer from performance anxiety and “stage fright”. Is there some other way besides you standing there watching me do those skills?  – Shrinking Violet

Dear SV:  Look, sweetheart.  I’ve been to your Facebook page.  Yes, you just might want to change your privacy settings.  Judging from the photos and videos posted there, you do not have performance anxiety. 

Dear Professor K8edid:  What do you make teaching these classes? – Curious

Dear C:  I make a difference.

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Thinks and Thanks Giving

When I was young (about 1,000 years ago) my mom would explain, in a patient and loving way, the errors in my way of thinking by telling me “you have another think coming”.  As in “If you think you’re wearing that miniskirt to school, you’ve got another think coming”.

Thanksgiving at the Trolls

Thanksgiving at the Trolls (Photo credit: martha_chapa95)

So today, I’m going to give out a few thinks, and a great many thanks.

To the patron at WalMart this morning at 6 AM (don’t ask.  Well, okay, I said I would bring homemade dinner rolls to our friend’s dinner but forgot to check my yeast supply):  If you think wearing a heavy jacket, gloves, daisy dukes and flip-flops is a fashion statement – You’ve got another think coming.

To the cashier at WalMart:  If you think drawing your eyeliner to the hairline at your temple is a good look for you (or anyone) – You’ve got another think coming.

To the Black Friday Shoppers – if you think that is the best way to support our economy – buying cheap foreign goods at corporations that don’t even pay taxes – You’ve got another think coming.  I’m going to spend the day trying to find local businesses to support on Small Business Saturday.

 

Detroit Lions logo

Detroit Lions logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

To the Detroit Lions – if you think I’m going to spend another Thanksgiving watching you lose a football game – you’ve got another think coming.  I’m going to take a nap.  Or read a book.  Or anything else.

To my family – if you think because I moved away I don’t think about you every single day – You’ve got another think coming.  I think about you and miss you every single day.  Sometimes to the point I have to fight the urge to keep driving north on the way home from work.  Sometimes to the point I lay on the couch and cover my eyes with my arm and weep softly because my arms miss hugging you, my eyes miss your faces, my heart misses your hearts.

To my readers and followers – If you think I don’t appreciate this creative community – this outlet, the sharing of thoughts and feelings – you definitely have another think coming.  “Meeting” you all has broadened my horizons (and my backside from all this sitting at the keyboard and hours reading “just one more blog”).  And I appreciate you all.  You make me laugh, think, cry, learn and feel.  Where else can you get all that?

I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving.  If you think I’m going to count calories today – you’ve got another think coming.  On this Thanksgiving – I am so thankful for family, friends, work, play, and loose stretchy pants.

What are you thankful for?  Do you have any more “thinks” coming?

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Stuck in the Middle (Age) with You

I seem to be mired in a deep rut these days.  The sides are slippery and I feel like even if I could climb out of it, there is a deep sink hole waiting to swallow me up just outside this rut.  So maybe I’ll stay right here.  This is that crazy time “Middle Age”*** – can’t quite pull off young and not yet ready for the retirement home.  Somewhere between having to worry about birth control and funeral arrangements.  Here are ten truths I’ve discovered about middle age:

1.  I had it good back in the day.

But I didn’t know it.  I thought I was fat. Now I am all set for the next famine.  I had boundless energy.  Now I can barely lift the remote.  I could play poker all night, work all day, and sling meals effortlessly. Now I can barely make reservations.  I managed a household on top of a full time job and 2 robust and active boys.  Now I manage to get from the bed to work to the couch and call it a good day.

Someone is bound to notice this hairdo.

2.  Beauty is a full time job.

In my younger days, I could still turn a few heads (especially if those heads had been drinking).  Getting dolled up meant enhancing my natural assets with a touch of mascara and lip gloss.  Now I fill wrinkles with spackle and cover age spots with a thick layer of “age defying” shellac. Even industrial strength hair coloring cannot cover what is growing out of my head, and my chin hairs are alarming in both their length and strength.  My moustache is envied by Justin Bieber.  I’d give myself a pedicure if I could reach (or even see) my toes.  But I don’t know why I bother because…

3.  You become invisible.

Somewhere around 43 or 44 you will become invisible – no matter how beautiful (or loud, or funny) you are.  Children are cute, youngsters are hip and savvy.  Oldsters are entitled to respect and senior discounts.  You are just there – sort of – if anyone even notices.  All those things you thought you’d do if you were invisible – not happening.

20120310 Amazon motorized scooter

 I traded my roller blades for this (Photo credit: kbrookes)

4.  Half the distance takes you twice as long. 

I can no longer open jars by myself, my eyesight is failing faster than my vision insurance covers new lenses, and my teeth are wearing down.  I have fillings older than many billionaire CEO whippersnappers and they are working loose at an alarming rate (the fillings – not the CEOs).  My joints are achy and any rapid movements could land me in traction.  While I don’t yet need a hover-round, I am not exactly zipping about on foot, either.  I’ve traded sexy shoes for comfortable ones.  I spend 2 hours a day on exercise – an hour dreading it, half an hour trying to talk myself into it (by promising myself a bowl of ice cream afterward), and 30 minutes letting the dog drag me down the sidewalk.

5.  Your brain will let you down.

I can’t remember things.  Except at 3:00 a.m.  Then I remember the name I couldn’t recall when I saw that old acquaintance today.  I remember what I meant to get at the grocery store but couldn’t remember where I left my list.  I remember birthdays on the day of – too late to send a card, but if I’m lucky, not too late to call or Skype, if I could remember where my cell phone is or remember my Skype password.  I remember to feed the dog when she begins gnawing on my leg.  Then I remember I meant to get dog food.

6.  Your life is filled with wonder.

You wonder why bad things happen to good people.  You wonder how many times a heart can break.  You wonder how a One Minute Manager can make 8 hours seem like a year.  You wonder why liars, abusers, thieves, perverts, killers and other rat-bastards get to breathe the same air as the most innocent child.  You wonder if you’ve done enough with your life.  You wonder what you did to deserve the bounty you’ve been given.  You wonder why monogamy seems so hard for so many.  You wonder if you’ll be remembered for your wit or your chocolate chip cookies, or for walking around with your skirt tucked up in your pantyhose.  You wonder why it takes 10 minutes to consume a pan of brownies but 7 hours on the treadmill to get rid of them.  You wonder where in the hell you left your car keys.

7.  You have enemies.

Time, insomnia, karma, and gravity.

8.  You start hanging out with well-educated rich people.

Pharmacists, orthopedists, ophthalmologists and MDs.

9.  Your roles change.

Your children are grown, even if they still live in the basement.  You’ve imparted all the lessons you’re gonna give ‘em –  they still know more than you (for a few more years, at least).  Your parents are off enjoying their retirements and spending your inheritance.  They’ve imparted all the lessons they’re gonna give you and they still know more than you (for a few more years, at least).  You get to worry about both and can control neither.

10.  This is the time of your life.

You’ve done a lot of hard work.  You watch your children work to find their way in this world, and you remember the journey.  You know who you are and what you are.  You’ve seen enough to know what is coming down the road…if you live long enough you’ll lose family members, friends, acquaintances and co-workers to disease or accidents.  You enjoy the health you have left, even as you feel it slipping away.  You will never again be as young as you are today.  Youth and beauty may be leaving you in the dust, but you know that experience, wisdom and treachery trump all that, anyway.

***I am middle-aged if my life expectancy is 114.

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