Part 2 that you didn't ask for

 Part 2 - 

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Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Part II (of Living Happily Ever After)

I wrote on the envelope, “Too good to be true must be an ax murder”

I put a line under that comment, and I planned to write my impression after speaking to him under that line, so I could remember him in that pile of envelopes.

I called Rick on a Friday night. I did that on purpose. He made me nervous.
Oh, not nervous and creepy like naked man or clothespin man. Nervous because I knew I liked this guy for some reason. I called on a Friday night, figuring he would be out and I could leave a message on his machine. (remember it’s the 80’s, no voicemail, still big ole bulky machines)

I called, and he answered immediately. Ah shit.
I nervously introduced myself, and off we went.
We talked for hours. I remember saying I didn’t think he’d be home, and he responded with- Then why did you call me if you didn’t think I’d be home?
Oh shit….busted.
We laughed, and he let me off the hook without answering. Whew.

After 3 hours on the phone, I thought it might be a good idea to meet.
It was so easy, and the time just flew by. It felt good and I wanted to see him to see if he was an ax murderer.
I said what I said to all the guys about one drink, and if it isn’t working for either of us, we shouldn’t feel bad to say it, and we can go our separate ways.
He liked that idea, and we made a date.

The day I had to meet him right after work I dressed and undressed a zillion times. I had to be in professional clothes for work and would have no time to change. But I still wanted to look nice. So before I left for work, my bed had a pile of clothes atop it, and shoes were thrown all over my bedroom floor. Of course, I thought about my clothing all damn day; I drove myself nuts. Too formal for such an evening? Too professional? Girly enough? Trying too hard? Look casual enough? You know the drill, girls.

I got to the Brown Derby at exactly the time I told him I would. He was already sitting at the bar when I walked in. He told me what he’d be wearing. (God, it’s so easy for men, isn’t it…..To know what you are wearing a week in advance?!)
Oh my, I thought he was handsome. That made me nervous. I don’t know why, but it did.
He had my favorite drink waiting for me. Nice touch.

But looking at his face, I thought he was a nice person. In my head, I said to myself, trust your gut. So I did. This was not because he was good-looking. 

We were shown a table/booth, and the conversation just flowed. A few times I drifted off, thinking he was so handsome he’s out of my league, man. But we laughed a lot, and he was funny and quick, and boy, I liked that. Great banter. I was having a ball, but was he?

The waitress came to our table and asked if we’d like another drink.
Shit. What the hell do I do? I don’t want to say yes and have him say no. All the other times I knew, and I spoke up first. This time, I was now praying to everything I hold dear to please let him speak first. Oh Please.
We both hemmed and hawed, and finally the waitress said, “Wow, I see this is a big decision - I’ll be right back.”

That broke the ice, and we both laughed at how weird we must look to her.
Then he did it.
“I’m going out on a limb here and tell you I sure don’t want to leave just yet. I hope you feel the same.”
Acting as cool as a cucumber as I could muster, I said, “I would like to stay as well.”
Translation: Oh my God, I want to have your babies

We closed the place. And so much for my idea of going to this place because it was a mall and I could get lost in stores and he wouldn’t see my car and yada yada yada,
All utter nonsense now as he walked me to my car.
I was hoping for a swoop in and a kiss, but it didn’t happen. He opened my car door and told me he would love to see me again, and he hoped I would call. And off I went. (remember I called him, I never gave my number)

I got home in the wee hours and called and woke up my sister, who was married and living in Alabama at the time. “Stephanie, I just met someone, and I think I’m in trouble!”

Just under 2 weeks later, I moved to Cleveland, Ohio, for my new job. We had only gotten to go out a couple of times with my interviewing and being out of town, etc. So we decided to remain friends and only friends. I was immersed in my new life, and it just felt right. I had no qualms about it, and looking back, that seems weird to me. But it worked.

We spoke on the phone every damn day and sometimes several times a day. We would talk about work, our lives, and our dates. I would commiserate about the men, etc.
If I needed a date for a wedding or whatever, he was my guy. If I were getting mixed signals from someone, I’d call him and say what is up with this? When I went home to visit, we would go have fun together. We were friends who did all kinds of things together as friends do. Kayaking, camping, parties, etc. We were truly the Harry and Sally part now. He was my best friend. I would call on a Saturday morning and ask, “Are you alone? Can we talk?” (Meaning did someone spend the night ) If not, he’d call me back. He did the same to me. We now find that funny.

The women in his life were all tall, blonde, dumb and gorgeous.
I called them his bimbo de jours. He would date such vacuous bimbos and then bitch that they were as dumb as a rock. DUH. He used to tell me he hated dumb. I would shake my head and say then why do you sleep with them? Of course, that had nothing to do with it as far as he was concerned. (just like the movie) When I was dating someone, he didn’t care for,  boy, he’d let me know. There were men in my life that he used to tell me weren’t good enough for me. I should have seen that he felt more, but I looked at him like my big brother that I never had. This went on for 3 years. I never ever thought of him as anything more than a best friend whom I could count on. Others would ask why we didn’t date, and we’d laugh, and both shake our heads, and I would say oh no, that wouldn’t work. My cousin said to me one day, "What is wrong with you 2? Date already.  I see how he looks at you, can't you see it?"  I would say, nope, he's a player and my friend only.

When an astrologer told me I would marry my best friend, I said, Melanie? Because there is no way I am marrying Rick!

As happened many times when I wasn’t dating anyone seriously, he drove to Cleveland for a weekend of fun to go to what was called The Flat,s along with me and some of my friends. We had a great weekend planned at The Flats and a day spent on an island in the middle of Lake Erie with wineries and fun activities. It was a great, fun weekend with friends and laughter.

As he had done many times before, he spent the night, this time in my bed. That changed everything. Cue that scene in When Harry Met Sally, and it was exactly like that. 

I realized that this man was more to me than just a friend, and how did I not see this before? It was as though a switch had been hit. But like in the movie, Rick wanted to run just like Billy Crystal; he couldn’t do it fast enough.

It was now awkward and uncomfortable, and like the movie, it didn’t end well. We would cross paths, but we were no longer friends. He would call my answering machine every damn day and leave me long messages. The one I remember vividly was him telling me that when he wakes up in the morning, he wants to talk to me, and at the end of his day, he wants to share it with me. And for some sick and twisted reason, I kept that message and listened to it a lot. Oh, he still called, but I would never pick up. I would listen and sometimes give my machine the finger. He kept me updated on his life, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond.

I told him I couldn’t be his friend anymore, that he had to leave me alone and not call me anymore. Maybe someday, but not now, and I didn’t know when or if it would ever happen. I begged him to leave me alone. But he would continue to leave me messages daily, and one day he ended it with, “Margaret, I will always be here for you if you need anything, anything at all at any time, just call me. I so miss you in my life.”

AARGH!!!!!!!!!!
I felt like he wanted it all, and that wasn’t fair. How did he not get that? He sent me cards, and I would scream at them, stomp on them, and call my girlfriend and say, “I only want a card if it is an outpouring of love and affection, not just a card. I no longer wanted to be his consolation prize. Men!

Then I was in a car accident far from home in a town called Boardman, Ohio.
He came to my rescue and got me back home to Cleveland, where he put me back together.
We have been together ever since as a couple. It was December 1989, and on that day, he finally gave me that outpouring of love and affection.

So here we are, many years later from that blind date, and we haven't killed one another...yet
It’s been a crazy ride from friends to more than friends to married partners.

Now, how did you meet your significant other?

Crazy Busy Week

I've got a lot going on this week.

Thursday will be my bathroom day before my endoscopy and colonoscopy on Friday. I have to take Rick to have his pacemaker device checked.

A plethora of boring things, but that will keep me away from blogging.

Since I have so many new commenters and readers, I thought instead of skipping a week, I'd run a few oldies.  

This first one is how I met Rick back in 1987. 

This one is a 2 parter,

Below is Part 1. Part 2 will be Tuesday.

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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

And they lived happily ever after.....

I was reading Anything Fits a Naked Man over the Valentine's Day weekend about how she met her husband. It got me thinking of telling my story although if you ever saw the movie When Harry Met Sally, you pretty much have an idea of my story. But how we met was oooh so different from the movie

I need to start off by telling you something about me here.

Normally, I am very good at reading people. And I usually know in the first couple of minutes of meeting someone who they are. I know it sounds bad. I know it sounds like I am being judgmental, but that isn’t what I mean. 

You see, ever since I was a little girl, I would get an impression, a feeling, so to speak, of people, and usually, people showed me whether I was right or wrong. I remember telling my Dad, after he was talking to someone outside in the parking lot, that I didn't like that man's face.  That was my way of saying, as an 8-year-old that he was a bad man. But I didn't know how he was bad, but it was a "feeling" and well, his face.

My Dad asked me about that in the car as we drove away.  I told him he wasn't nice.  I was sort of scared to say that because I knew my father.  You never disrespect your elders, and I was worried he would be mad.  But he didn't.  He said that was correct; he wasn't a nice man. I asked why he was talking to him then, and he told me he had to do work for him, but he was not a friend or someone he would invite to our home. That stayed with me, but it didn't make me listen to my inner voice all the time either.  I'm a slow learner, you see.

When I doubted myself and I would give everyone the benefit of the doubt because, “gee I don’t know them, how come I think this is not a good, honest person?” I ended up getting burned.
Usually, I was then hurt and surprised until I realized I knew this all from the beginning, but never wanted to believe my “gut” because it was right at the beginning, and how could I trust that?. So, as I have gotten older, I am very attuned to this sense of mine, and I now go with my gut and don’t fight it. And if I don’t, I regret each and every time.

It was back in the day of shoulder pads, big hair, Bon Jovi, and other hair bands of the 1980’s.
I had just gotten out of a long-distance relationship that by the end was pretty damn ugly.
Ugly and painful. This is the one where I hadn’t gone with my gut, and as always, if I had this never would have happened. The lesson was not lost on me.  I felt my radar needed some time off and rejuvenation. I was trying desperately to get this new job in my field, and it would be a major move up the ladder as well as out of town. It was just what I needed at that point in my life.

But in the meantime, I was just not going to date. I certainly didn’t feel like going out a lot either. I was happy with my life, and I was so okay with that. I had been divorced from my high school sweetheart at 27, and that took me a long time to get over or even begin to date again. So now, at age 31, I just felt it was time to take stock, work on me, my career, and forget about men for just a little while. My radar also needed some rest. My girlfriends were NOT okay with it for some reason.

One Friday night, I decided to paint some wicker furniture that was in my sunroom.
I was going to town on this room. I took everything out and was cleaning and rearranging.
I began to paint with my music blaring and a bottle of wine to accompany me. Then the doorbell rang. I couldn’t figure out who the hell would be here on a Friday night at 8pm.
I get to the door, and it is 3 of my closest girlfriends, who aren’t normally people who hang around with one another unless I bring them together. There they stood on my porch with a huge Tupperware bowl, TELLING me they were coming in. They blew by me and went inside.

I asked what was in the bowl, and Linda said it was her famous Strawberry Slush.
For those of you who don’t know, that is a very yummy drink with lots of alcohol.
It’s yummy and like a sno-cone with alcohol.

They asked what I was doing. Me? What the hell are you guys doing here on a Friday night? Why aren’t you out? They asked me again what I was doing.

There I stand with a paintbrush in my hand and a T-shirt with paint all over it. What the hell do you think I’m doing? They looked at each other and without speaking 1 walked into my dining room and 1 put the bowl of Slush on my table while someone got glasses from the kitchen. They also brought snacks, I mean, they are MY friends after all.

So they began to do an intervention. Telling me that it has been over 2 months of me holing up in my apartment, and it was time I got back out there again.
Back on the horse, so to speak. That made me laugh.
I told them I didn’t need to date; I have batteries.

We drank, ate, and talked. I tried to convince them that I wasn’t depressed as they thought. But I needed to just be with me. I didn’t feel like going out right now. I surely didn’t want to hang out at bars with them right now either. They knew I was in the interviewing stages for this job, and I would probably be moving, so I was just getting my life in order. It felt right to me to do this.  I wanted them to stop worrying about me.  I was fine!

They were having none of this!
Then 1 of them pulls out the local newspaper (yep only a 1 paper town). Unbeknownst to me, the local newspaper had just begun putting in their name for personal ads. But they were still personal ads, no matter their fancy name. They began to read some. I was laughing my ass off. Then they got to the point. They wanted me to do this. NO WAY.

“I don’t want to meet anyone. And even if I did, what is the point? I am going to be moving. I know I am going to get this job!”

"Just do it for fun. Go out with people, enjoy yourself, have a ball before you leave - leave your home!"

“NO. This is so not for me. The people who do this are lonely. I am not lonely. I like being alone. Besides, what kind of man is going to answer this? A loser, a married man, someone in prison. You are not going to get a quality man.”

So & So did it, and they’ve been dating for 3 months now.

This went on all night. Finally, someone gave me paper, an envelope with postage, and 4 drunken gals began to write an ad, laughing our asses off. The bowl of Slush was disappearing.  This Slush was enough to have for a party. For 4 girls this was a whole lotta Slush. (btw they spent the night -impromptu slumber party)

Finally, I wrote something, and I read it to them.
They said. “My God, that sounds like you. – You must use that!”

"I will not mail this in because I will only meet creeps. I really don't think people will get the humor."

"But the person who does will be someone you'll have fun with, so just do it."

Then 1 of them throws in a $10 bill and says I’ll bet ya.
Then another 1 throws a $10 onto the table.
Then another.
I said I don’t need $30 that badly girls.

Okay, I’ll throw in dinner at the House of Hunan.
Laughing, I said, “Well then, how can I resist?”

I guess it was a tub of Slush that made me do it, but I did it.
2 weeks later, with a pile of 50+ letters, we girls all got together.
We sat around my dining room table again and read all these letters.
Oh my, were they funny. I still have them because when we really want to laugh ya gotta bring these out.

Some of my favorites, “Call me. I is a professional too.”
Okay then. This was written on ripped paper and in two different types of writting and colored pens.
Can you say Schizophrenic?

Or the man who sent his photo …..OF HIMSELF NAKED.
Oh yeah, I’m gonna call you. Now this is a guy who knows women, huh, ladies?
Men are driven by the visual more than women, aside from the fact that you sent me a NAKED PICTURE OF YOURSELF! oooh ick!!!

The man who told me he didn’t have kids but this was written on red construction paper and there were scribblings done in crayons.
So he thinks I’m stupid and won't notice the crayon drawings and the construction paper?
He just hangs out with little children?
Either way, it's creepy, mister, and you go in the go to jail pile. Do not pass go.

The envelope that had a number in the corner from a correctional facility was so what I figured. I’m sorry I can’t be part of your rehabilitation.

But my favorite by far was from a man who didn’t want to date me.
Oh no, that would have been too normal for this guy.
He wanted to perform for my friends and me.
He wanted to meet us and to show us how he could get 40 or more clothespins on his genitalia
Yep, that’s right on his penis and balls, scrotum, he was going to attach clothespins.
(you're whincing now, aren't you?)
Then he told us he also has a vacu-pump and he wanted to use that on himself as well as for our "entertainment".
He was a traveling salesman, so he didn’t want anything more from me but to “entertain” my friends and me when he came through town. (no pun intended by him I imagine)
We laughed so hard. We passed this around the table a few times.
We did not know what a vacu-pump was but we sure had an idea.

So, to me, I was winning this bet. I was now drooling for my free Chinese dinner.

But I have to admit as we began to weed through these letters, there were a few that were appealing. Funny always got me, I admit.
So if something interested me, it went into a certain pile. I made a comment on the envelope so I could remember them as the process went on.
I had a maybe pile, a no pile, and a yes pile.
Finally, I had my pile of whom I would call.
There were only 4 of them out of over 50.

Now I am in no way shy. But for some reason, when it came time to call these guys, I was a bit uncomfortable, and it surprised me. I have never felt that before.
I had my spiel. I would call, and we’d chat. If I wanted to pursue this, I would then ask if they would like to meet for a drink. Now, remember it was a safer time. 
No internet, cell phones or Google.
It could be coffee or cocktails, depending on how this was going and the feel of the conversation. I felt better having this control I must admit. I chose where, and I always liked the mall bars because I could get lost in the mall if he's creepy and not have to see where I parked, etc.

If they said yes, I would next say, “Let’s meet for 1 drink. If either of us feels this isn’t going anywhere or we aren’t interested in going further, then let’s agree to be honest and say that after the 1 drink and move on.” All agreed that was a great idea since this was literally a blind date, and we were now both off the hook.

Then the fun began……
     to be continued

Biopsy

I had a fun Thursday, how 'bout you?

I had an appointment for a 3D mammogram.

Remember when I said that mammograms don't cause me pain, some discomfort sometimes, but not ever pain.

Well, this sucker was PAINFUL.  Wowsa.  

After the horrific test from all angles and pain points, they let me go back to the cubicle to sit and wait. If they need another imaging test, they'd let me know. The nice nurse came back and told me they didn't need anymore pics to get dressed, and she'll wait for me. 

I did as told, got dressed, and opened the door. There was my little nurse.

She was a very nice woman who, I bet, has seen more breasts in her lifetime than a Playboy photographer.  

The nurse leads me to a room. She opened the door, and it was very dark inside.  The doctor stands up, introduces himself, and shakes my hand.  The radiologist is a nice, calm man. A very calming face. 

He puts up all my boob pics and begins to show and talk to me. 

He explains everything I read on Dr. Google. 😊

In the meantime, my nurse is rubbing my forearm as if comforting me.  

It was odd.

I'm thinking if it's good news, she wouldn't be doing this; they don't comfort you when you win the 800 million lottery. So this must be bad news.

I listen. I nod. I know this stuff. 

My favorite line he said, and I quote, "mildly concerning that this could be malignant."  

Mildly? 

At one point, the room was so heavy, and I so wanted to blurt out, please stop rubbing my arm. But she was being kind, and I sure can't fault her for that. We need more kindness. I'm just a bitch. 😛

But I had to pick up the room from this dark cloud, so I said to the doctor,

"While you're in there, could you put it in it's orignial upright position that God intended?" 

That broke the tension. Whew. The doctor laughed, but while the nurse laughed, she kept rubbing my arm. Is she nervous? Or just nervous for me?

The only time a medical professional has done that with me was when we weren't sure if Rick was going to live or die after the stroke. So this is in no way comforting, but they don't know that, so onward we go.

Needless to say, a biopsy is next. 

Someone is to call me today, Friday. Due to the upcoming storm, they said things are being moved around, so you may not hear from them, but no later than Monday.  

So there ya have it. 

I believe it is nothing.

I refuse to believe it's something because I've had enough. More than enough." They" couldn't possibly dump more on me!"  (famous last words)

In the meantime, we are expected to receive a bad ice storm. Thankfully, no snow. But they expect our power to be out for days. Really, you know this already? What are you doing to prevent this? Is there anything that can be done? The governor was on tv all afternoon scaring the shit out of the NC residents. 

Having lived where the lines were underground, I have not had to deal with this. So my entire house is electric. So no food, heat, or toilets for days?  OMG. We have filled up buckets (big Home Depot buckets) of water for the toilet so we can use them should we lose electricity.  Rick also wanted to fill the one bathtub with water too. I thought that was overkill, but I'm letting him, he may be correct. No harm if not needed.

We have food, warm blankets, candles, batteries, battery-controlled lamps/light bulbs, flashlights, handwarmers, feet warmers, etc. 

I know this is bad all over the Midwest, the Northeast, and the South. Be safe and stay warm!

I think snow up north is far easier!!!!!!!!

Moments

While we were at Lowes to pick up that water filter I mentioned a post or so ago, we picked up a new toilet seat for the master bath. 
Rick got it while I was in another aisle. I didn't pay any attention to it as he put it in the cart that I was moving down the aisle.

When we got in the car he was laughing about the name on the toilet seat. I said I thought it was American Standard?  He said, "Yes, it was, but it was called Movements. I think that is funny for a toilet seat, don't you? Movements"  

Okay, I saw his point. But I can't imagine it's called Movements. I am driving now, and it's all the way in the back of the SUV.  I will look at this when we get home.  I am laughing because I told Rick there is no way it would be called Movements for a toilet.  He replied, "Why not? That is what you're doing in there."   Oh my God.  

When we got home, I went to the back of the SUV to see what we bought. Sure enough, it's an American Standard toilet seat.  It's called MOMENTS.  
I point this out to Rick. My finger is running underneath the big block capital letters of M-O-M-E-N-T-S.  

He, too, is laughing now, and we are both laughing like damn fools in our driveway. We get inside, and I tell Rick that it's a good thing he's cute. 
He kept saying, "It's an honest mistake."  

Now, c'mon, blog readers, if you've been here for a long time, you know after all the ribbing I take and all the fun he pokes at my expense, I am not giving him a break on this.

  
He put on the toilet seat. 

That evening I got up to go to the bathroom, and he asked, "Where are you going?"  I said, I'm going to the bathroom to have my MOMENT.
Got him. I made him laugh so hard.  

I can't believe he thought it was Movements, what a dufus!

Film and Filter

Ah, best laid plans.

I had expected to do the film on the windows on Saturday.  

Rick had other plans.

He asked me to help him with some things in the garage that he could no longer move on his own.  So we spent way too much time on that. Then I went to the grocery store.  By the time I got home, I no longer wanted to start on the film.

I said to myself, I'll do it tomorrow. Famous last words

Late morning on Sunday, we finally got moving.  Rick said he was going to put in the new filter for the fridge. Water filter that is. We went to Lowes and we picked up the one for this horrible fridge I inherited when I bought this home. It was $49.99.  I said to Rick, "$49.99, is that what you paid for this each time?"  

"Yes"

"My God, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you'd have acted like this."

I had to laugh.  Okay, you're right.  Wow, I thought that was a lot for this 6-inch skinny thing.  (that sounds dirty)

A Lowe's employee comes over and asks if we need any help. We said no thank you, and she sees what I am holding. She pointed to other filters for the fridge that were $29.99 and said, "You know these work for your model fridge so if you wanted to go generic this would be the one."

We were thrilled.  

That damn filter has been sitting on the corner of our island, so finally Rick is going to install it.  As he begins to do this, I run to the bathroom. I am coming down the hall to the sound of 'damn it!  OH MY GOD."

I arrive in the kitchen and see water everywhere. The inside of our fridge has an inch of water. Everything is floating, water on our floor, water spirting out of this thing where you insert the filter.

To turn off the water, we had to move the fridge.

Moving the fridge made the water go to other areas of the kitchen. Oh, what fun.

I'm shouting, shouldn't we put the old one back in to stop this first? But he won't listen to me. I might be right.

Finally, the water is off. I removed all things from the refrigerator.  I got bathroom towels to wipe up the inside. Then, towels for the things inside.

Then the crispers  - everything had water in or on it. 

Rick put the old one back in now and turned the water on. Whew.

We had the fridge back in its proper place.  A light that kept shaming us because the filter was past due for changing, but otherwise was working fine. It literally counts the days you are past due. Each time you get water it shows up in big red letters, 'you are 30 days past due. get a new filter.'

I opened the door to the fridge and said, "well everything is very clean, I won't have to clean the fridge for a bit."

We brought back the new cheap filter and got the expensive one that fits. It sits on the corner of our island. Both of us are afraid to swap it out. Either way, I told him to turn off the water first....just in case!  He won't if I'm not around because he is stubborn. I should tell him NOT to turn off the water.

Then he will turn off the water.

Sort of like trump. Tell him that Obama went to the electoral college, and he will get rid of it so fast that heads would spin.  You've seen that meme.  It's true, and you know it!  Rick's a lot like that since the stroke. He's always been stubborn but the stroke took it to a new place.

Monday Morning.

I have my door open in my office.
My husband is watching The Price is Right. He has changed what I was going to write when I came in here.

I hear him yell, 'Four, you dumb shit, FOUR!' He yells louder. 

I am typing away here, laughing because I think he thinks that if he yells it louder, they will hear him.

He just said to the TV, "OMG, you should be spayed or neutered, get off the stage."
If you don't watch the TPIR, Drew says this tidbit at the end of each show to have your pets spayed or neutered. It's a big thing since the day of Bob Barker. 

Dear Lord, I am not spouting facts about a game show, am I? What has my life become? Look what he has done to me.

I should record him while he watches this so all could see him as he yells LOWER, damn it.  If they would just listen to him, it would be far quieter in my home. I do believe he is certifiable about this show. I watch only because he watches; it's not my jam. 

I have been married twice. Both are/were named Rick. Both lovers of this damn show, The Price is Right.  The first guy was working nights, school by day. work at night. That enabled him to watch during the day. Long before VCRs or DVRs.  I had one day off during the week, and then I worked a weekend, so I was lucky enough to see this rabid fan of The Price is Right in all his glory.  He, too, shouted numbers at the TV.  He, too, shouted mean things about the contestants.  Gee, I may have a type, eh?

One day, (this Rick), after listening to him doing commentary of the show, he was making me laugh. I asked why he would say what he said about this woman, and he said, "Trust me, she's a faller."
A faller?  

Yep, if she wins, she is going to roll around on the floor. 

Damn, she did.

Next guy is a chest thumper, he tells me. He will attempt to chest-bump Drew when he gets on stage. I am shocked that Rick knew this. I asked if this was a repeat.  Now he is laughing. No, you can just tell.  Football, sports, chest thumper, and he will not win unless it involves him throwing or putting a ball into something.  Spot on!  The guy didn't know a single thing they presented to him.

The next young thing has those eyelashes on that Rick insists you can't see through, so that was why she was so dumb.  Then she tripped. I said, "she tripped over those lashes, babe."  He laughed and said, "Now you're getting it."  But do I really want to get it?!

Now this was becoming a fun sport for me, I admit, tell me more.

A cute young thing makes it to the stage. She can't make a decision on her own and keeps looking to the audience for help. Rick tells me these types drive him nuts. If you don't know this stuff, don't come on the show. She loses, and it's no surprise to anyone, including her. But everyone, including Rick, enjoyed her bouncing.

The last one that really made me smile was an older woman. She was so good at the prices that he was yelling, Go Grandma! 

She won a car she couldn't drive, she said, because she no longer drives at her age. She had to "run" back and forth to put items on a shelf in a timed race. The old gal could really shuffle. She had to be in her early 90s. But God love her, she won. She won a nice car that hopefully she can sell and then use the money.

I just wish my guy could get on the show. I've submitted tickets for him for years. You can bet your arse I will be yelling things at him on the TV or from the audience.  But the difference is he won't look to the audience for answers. He thinks he knows it all. LOL

Honestly, it's no different, I suppose, from yelling at the umps or the horrible sportscasters while I watch a game. I mean, I could kill people and things when Joe Buck was a baseball sportscaster. Thank GOD MLB woke up and fired him. Now, you football guys are stuck with that dude.

Hot Office

I purchased this dark film to go over the windows.

Everyone says it helps with the sun and heat. We shall see.

The office & our master need this film terribly to hopefully keep out the heat.

I have had this since Rick had his stroke.  I ordered it from Amazon and received it 2 days after his stroke. I have done nothing with it since. 

Pitiful. Not like I've been busy or anything, but still pitiful.

My office and master bedroom get so hot.

I walk into my office fully clothed.  As the day goes on, I am slowly undressing. It was so warm yesterday I checked to make sure the vents were closed. They were indeed.

I ran out of my office yesterday to use the bathroom as Rick was coming down the hall.

He yelled, "You forgot your shirt, lady."  Ha ha funny boy.

It was just so hot I had to take off my sweater. 

In the old days of our corporate jobs, we both worked from home. 

This was long before working from home was a "thing".

Rick covered the eastern seaboard for a famous Bagel company (HR)

I had the territory of NY State. We lived in VA, the burbs of DC.

When we weren't on the road, we were working from home.

Rick's office was a real office (loft) located on our 2nd floor. This picture with a clean desk was a lie. This was what they wanted for the real estate photo.  Rick's or my desk was never ever this empty. Otherwise accurate. 

My office was a bedroom converted to my office on the 3rd floor.

I traveled more, so it didn't mean that much to me that my office wasn't as nice as his. I was in NY more than at my office. 

There was a day when we were both working from home. 

That happened so seldom that I actually forgot he was there. 

I was on a conference call. I was wearing a headset. God, it was getting warm. The ceiling fan was on. The attic fan was on. The air was on.  I was dying.  Rick came upstairs and did not see the big, bright red light on the end of my headset to tell him I'm on the phone. Oh no. 

Instead, he sees me sitting there in my panties only and says, "Hey, I like XYZ's new dress code."

Everyone heard that! I was praying no one knew that was from my office. 

I just keep quiet.  I put my finger to my lips to tell Rick to shut up. My eyes had to be huge. I pressed mute after he shouted his comment. But I was now afraid to tell Rick to shut up for fear they'd hear it somehow.

I am frantically pointing to my headset like a freak. 

Finally, I hear my boss say, "Peg, was that Rick?"  

Oh God. Thank God he is so cool and laid back.

I said, "Yes, I am so sorry, Bruce. He, too, is working from home today and wanted to know if I wanted lunch."  Which was true because he did originally come upstairs to ask me that question.

However, that does not sound like dress code, and I hope Bruce drops it!

But of course not! Bruce then asked, "What ARE you wearing, Peg?" Everyone is laughing.

"Why, Bruce, you know my husband is in HR, and I know you can't ask me that?"  

He howled!!!  as did the rest of the team on the call.

Whew, I got outta that one. (for the time being)

So this weekend I have high hopes to put this film on my office window.  I only have one window, so I like the light, but I have a roman shade on it as well.  I suppose a drapery, but then I'm in a box with no windows.  I plan to do this in the master bedroom as well. 

Rick tells me this isn't easy. I told him I didn't need his help.  He snorted.

So, of course, that makes me want to prove to him I can do this. 

We spent 2 days attempting to change a fluorescent light bulb.   

We laughed more than we accomplished a damn thing. 

It is still not replaced!

I think there may be a Polish joke in there somewhere.

3D Mammo's

 Well, the old eagle-eyed radiologist found something on my mammogram. 

They want me to return and have a 3D mammogram. 

Medicare does not cover 3D mammograms. Or that was what I thought.

So do I skip it?  I mean, if it fell off, I'd be okay with that. It's dying that rather bums me out. Although there have been days in the last 3 yrs where that sounds like a lovely idea of rest too.

I called Medicare and sat on hold while I did a load of laundry, dishes, washed and dried.  Put on my full face of makeup up and finally someone answered.  I carried my phone around from room to room on speaker, in case someone actually picked up the phone. Finally, someone did. I asked the question about a 3d or 2d mammogram coverage.

She said she was certain it was changed, but she put me on hold to be 100% sure.

I wondered in all seriousness what I would do should it not be covered. I have so much medical debt right now.  She came back on the phone to tell me that if something was found, but they need more images, then this will be approved. YIPEE.

If I didn't have doctor's appointments, I'd go nowhere, honestly.

Although today I got a haircut. It's been 10 weeks. Now it's too short, but it will grow.  It costs so damn much for a haircut. 

I cut Rick's hair. I wish someone would give me the same price for a haircut. 

Cop a feel and zero dollars.

He has it made!

So, back to the boobs, it's probably no big deal. But now round 2.

I've had mammograms since the age of 31. Not once has there been a callback.

So this is new to me. But lots of people have them, and they are nothing.

I did not share with Rick because he will be frantic. 

Due to my mom and her sister both dying from breast cancer, he gets all worried. 

I don't wish to die. Just make them smaller, and if not, at least perky, like age 25. 🤭 

Patience

I wish I were given patience. I had a 1pm Zoom call with my physician.

It's 1:046.  No text or email stating running late. Are we still on? How long do I sit here?

I go out of my way to be on time; I wish others felt the same way with time.

It frustrates me so.

I recall when I first met Rick, he asked me something about being on time. I said, Oh, I'm early.  I do not like to be late or keep anyone waiting, so I am generally early.

He smiled and nodded. I assumed that was the right answer for him.

Fast forward a year or two, and I now realize that this man must be very early, or to him, he's late. We were going to a movie. I asked what time he wanted to leave.

He gasped. I laughed. I asked if that was the wrong thing to ask?  He said, "Oh no, I love it. I would like to leave by 7:35p"

You see it helps me to plan my dressing/hair/makeup, etc. 

He was so tickled by this question, he told me about his last girlfriend, with whom he shared an apartment. She was notoriously late.  I knew this already because he told me it was a pet peeve.  Anyway, he and his gal were going to the movies. He told her we have to leave by 7:00pm. The closer it got to 7p he was pacing. He kept going into the bathroom or bedroom where she was and was attempting to hurry her up.  At 7:20p he left without her.  He got there in time to see the beginning of the movie. Only missing about 3-4 minutes. No previews or anything.

I asked him how was it when you got home?  He said, "Oooh it wasn't pretty."

I bet it wasn't!  Oh, I'd be angry too, I told him, if you just left me like that.

He told me that he went into the bathroom at one point and said if we leave now we can make the movie, not previews. She laughed and said 10 more minutes.

He gave her 15 then left.

I see both sides.  I would be so angry at him if he did that to me. But then again, I would never be that disrespectful to do that to anyone. Yes, if Rick isn't somewhere at least 10 minutes before he has to be there, he gets all itchy.  I appease him.

I asked if she ever did that again.  Nope.  I can't believe he did it. I would have exploded if I were her, but he gave her lots of opportunities to get it together.

So I have learned over these decades to never be late or heaven forbid get the gas below a 1/4 tank. Oh my goodness, that can make his head explode.

The gas was in the 1/4 tank zone and about to have the light go on. I have another 2 gallons at that point. I was going to get gas, but that is all he would let me say. "You've gotta get gas, you've gotta get gas, Margaret."

I said, "The light has not even come on, calm down mister."

He got all snarky and said, "How many times have you run out of gas?"

"once"

"Wasn't that a lesson? How far did you have to walk to get gas?"

"You're not gonna like my answer to this."

"Try me"

I ran out of gas in my VW Bug. I was all of 22 and coming from work. I was wearing a mini skirt, heels, and a blouse. I was on the side of the road, and I began to get out of my car to walk to the gas station only a few feet ahead. I wasn't thrilled because the gravel and heels are not a good combo.

As soon as I got a leg out of my car door, 2 vehicles pulled over and asked if I wanted help. Yes, both young men.  One young man drove to the gas station, filled up the can, put it in my car, and refused money. He asked me out. 

I said, "I have a boyfriend, please take the money."  He did. 

Rick said, "Only a woman gets lucky like that."

Yep, we have to have something good once in a while or an advantage. 

So no, I've never had to walk and get gas.

Now today, no one is going to stop and help a white haired ole woman on the side of the road. I'd end up walking and doing it myself. 

I now realize I just didn't appreciate being young.

All Better

 My new dentist was wonderful, as was the entire office crew.

It is so close to my house that it took me 2 minutes to get there. I got all green lights to boot.  I walked in, and the place was pretty, clean, and the 2 women up front greeted me with smiles.  Already, it was an improvement.

I was wearing another one of my favorite NY sweatshirts, and the youngest woman at the desk said with a smile no less. "Are you from NY?"

I said, "No, it's just my favorite team. I bleed pinstripes"

She replied, "YEAH.  Me too."  

I asked if she was from NY. She said, "No, Jersey."

I laughed and said, "Close enough."

The other woman up front asked, "What the hell are you two talking about?  It sounds like code."  

The young woman said, "Shh, don't tell her, she's just jealous."

I suggested we could let her into the club. 

The young one said, "No way."  

The older one said, "Hey, I'm older, I demand your respect."

Well, that sent these 2 into convulsive laughter.

Oh, these ladies were bantering big time between one another and me. It was such a nice change.  

Because I caught my crown, I cleaned it and put it in a baggie, and brought it in.

They were able to reattach it.  YIPEE.  Only $73.00, far better than the price without insurance!

My dentist said most people swallow it. Or they think they don't need to bring it in and throw it away.  Yikes. I'm glad I saved it. 

I don't really care for dentistry. I have a lot of upcoming crap no one wants. Endoscopy and colonoscopy in a few weeks. 

I should get dinner and drinks after this if you ask me. Going in both sides! 

Mammogram tomorrow. Then a sleep study. After they are all done picking and probing me, I'm sure a limb will fall off.  It's the only thing left. My luck is that the only limbs left to replace mine that fell off would be even shorter ones, and I'd get damn replacement short legs instead of two long ones.  It would be my luck.

A few days ago, I told Rick that I couldn't see what he was referring to. He gave me such shit about it. I honestly couldn't see it. So I made him scrunch down to my eye level. He saw that he too couldn't see what he demanded I must be able to see. AH HA!  He stayed down there awhile and said, "How the hell do you see anything?"

Bite me.

Dentist Drama

What am I doing to bring me such bullshit?

It has to be me, doesn't it? 

I had an appointment at 1pm today to get my cap fixed on my tooth. It was considered an emergency appointment. They asked that I get there 15 minutes early for some 2026 paperwork. Okay, I can do that.

I get there at 12:42pm.  I fill out my paperwork and sit. It's now 1:30p.

I'm getting antsy. I am inpatient. The receptionist goes to lunch, and on her way out the door, she looks at me and says, Someone will be with you shortly.  I smile and nod.   Bullshit is what I'm thinking.

At 2pm, I asked to reschedule. She said, "Oh, I'm sorry, we are just so busy."

I am the only one in the waiting room to boot.  I say, "I understand, but I have another appointment today, and I can't sit here any longer today.

She rolled her eyes and rebooked me. I wish it were good etiquette to bitch slap someone who rolls their eyes at you instead of helping you.

As I entered my car, I saw the dentist leave by the back door and walk over to the bldg next door. It is vacant. He looks inside and then opens the door. He walks inside.  Is this why I had to wait? What in the hell is he doing?  I was now livid.

There I sat for over an hour with my cap in hand waiting, and my dentist was roaming about outside and the building next door. 

We have not been thrilled with this dentist, so for me, this was the last straw.

Some emergency visit, huh?

I did make another appointment but decided I had to find a new dentist.

I went to my other appointment and then a quick stop at the grocery store.

I called Dental Dental and asked if Dr. Cuzumano was a provider.  The office said she was but it's not listed on the website.  I don't want to show up and find out I owe $800 that I don't have if she doesn't take my insurance.

Delta Dental was A-1 in snarky customer service.  I explained who I was and what I was looking for. I stated that the drs office says they take D.Dental, but your website only lists one doctor in my area, and she is not listed.  

Ms. Delta Dental says, "Well then, she isn't a provider, DUH."

I actually said, "You didn't just say DUH to me, did you?"

She hung up.  

Lovely customer service, right? Are these calls really monitored?

So I, being an A-1 bitch call back. Explain the situation. This snarky wench asks me what website I am on. I tell her the URL to her website. She then tells me to look under provider. After I just told her I did this. So I play along. Get more with honey than piss and vinegar.  I tell her I've done what she asked, and I do not see the dr listed. She said,"Then she is not a provider."  I explained again that the doctor says she is. 

"Well, the doctor is either dumb or has no clue. You might want to talk to her office manager."  (I did that already) 

I was livid. I did not wish to be a Karen or say something I'd regret. I thanked her for her time and hung up. But calling the doctor dumb or clueless was so unprofessional!!!!

Wowsa.  I called the dentist's office back. She assured me they took my insurance and that this has happened before.  I told them I can't find out while there that you are out of network, and I would have to pay you more money than I have. She said,"Margaret if that happens, we will work out some arrangement for you. But we do accept this insurance."

So I'm going to a new dentist tomorrow at 2:45pm.  I received the paperwork via email, so I'll do that tonight, so I don't have to be there 15 minutes early.

You know I taught customer service in the late 80s at a local travel school and then again in the 90s.  As I used to say, "A smile in your voice and when you hang up you can swear at the phone but never to the customer."  My students would laugh.

Then, when we'd have theory in class, they "got it." One young man said, "They can't be all that stupid, can they?"  The class laughed, and I just shook my head and said, "Sadly, it's 50-50."  He was in utter shock. 

I taught reservation sales. Which at that time, was a big deal. You would call the airlines to book a flight. People are notoriously dumb, and you'd have to smile and take care of them.  Here are 2 that have stood out over the years.

1. Where will you pick me up?  

To this day, this one cracks me up. I worked at a small commuter airline (Piedmont), and the plane this woman was booking a flight on was a small 20-seat turboprop.  Apparently, because it was a small plane, she thought we'd just pick her up in her driveway or something. I had to hold back laughter. I kept saying, "Ma'am, what do you mean? Where do we pick you up?  You need to go to the airport, check in, and when the flight is called, you will board." 

She was not having it.  This was a long call. She was insistent that we pick her up.

When I got off this call, I shared this with all in the office. The Operations Mgr said, "You should have told her to pack a lunch, sit on the roof, and we'd swing by."

Oh, now wouldn't that be fun?  If only....

2. I want to go to see Mickey Mouse.  

A grown ass woman said this to me. 

I asked, "Do you want to go to Disneyland or Disney World?"  

"Whatever one has, Mickey."

 Oh dear. 

" Ma'am, they both do. Disney World is in Florida, and Disneyland is in California.

"Really?  Oh my well, I don't know." 

I explained the difference in price and said, "You may wish to discuss this with the people you're going with so you choose the right destination."

"Are you sure that there is more than one?"

Oh dear. This person did not sound old at all. Maybe at best 40. (just dumb)

"Yes, ma'am, I am certain. So ask those going with you if they want Disney World in Florida or Disneyland in California. Just another tip, Disney World is bigger, newer, and has Epcot Center. Disneyland is the original one, a bit smaller but just as nice, and you'll see Mickey at both." 

"Okay, I'll call you back. I don't want to pick the wrong one. Who knew there was more than one?"
Oh geez, everyone does.

How do you not know this? And you breed? Bet she voted for trump, too.

When Rick and I owned a company, he would tell me I was like Sybil. I was so nice and accommodating on the phone, but when I hung up, I would swear at the phone and give it hand gestures.  I got it out, and the customer was no wiser.  Most were nice. But there is always that one asshole who makes your day, isn't there? 

Like Delta Dental

Baby It's Cold Outside

Thursday felt like Saturday and Friday felt like Sunday, and this whole week has been just darn right goofy.

I have been lazy as all get out as well. I need to get back into my rhythm of life. This laziness can become addictive. 

We were both sick on NYE. So we did nothing for the ole anniversary. I coughed a lot. The burning cough that goes into your chest kind of cough. It was so bad that Rick insisted I go to Urgent Care.  I put on my mask and went. The waiting room was empty. I was thrilled to see that. 

Upon check-in I was told it was a 2.5-hour wait. I said as I looked around, "There is no one here, as I moved my arms around the room. May I ask why there is such a long wait?"  She responded that all of our 10 rooms are full, that's why.  Okay then. I'm going home to lie under a bunch of blankets and just cough my head off.  I thanked her and said I didn't wish to wait on those hard chairs for 2.5 hrs.  She said she certainly understood that.  She was kind enough to offer me a blanket if I wanted to wait. I did not. I thanked her, but I preferred going home. I wanted out of this bra and these clothes. I wanted my pjs and my blanket, my cough medicine and I wanted to pass out.

As I got in my car to leave, I saw that I had a Halls Cough Drop in my vehicle's spot where your water or coffee cup would go.  I opened the drop and put it in my mouth to suck on for relief.  Aaah it was a relief of sorts. As I am driving home, I feel something odd on my tongue.  I spit out my Halls cough drop, and another thing falls into my palm. It was a tooth.  I pull over. WTH?

It was a cap that was on my back left tooth, thank goodness. So I've been without a cap on my tooth for a few days. That's been fun. Oh yeah, cold water is fun, fun, fun. The first thing Rick asked me was if I was biting on the cough drop. I said no, I was sucking. He said, "Good girl" in a pervy way.  Honestly, his mind is on one track.

So I got home with no good drugs for what I think is bronchitis, and I was holding my tooth in my hand. 

I called the dentist, and of course, being NYE, they were about to close. So Monday afternoon is the soonest I could get in. Okay, I lied, I could get in at 8am Monday, but holy shit, that's too early for this ole broad. So 1pm it is.

I am determined to get off my lazy arse...tomorrow. 

an oldie but damn goody....

Well this just happened today.

The last 3 years have been hell on both Rick and me.  I've spent 3 yrs keeping everything to myself, and that has done me no good.  So I decided to see a therapist instead of spending all my time crying.

I mentioned that I didn't think this was a good fit. He didn't like that I used humor. I made a funny, and while he laughed, he said I shouldn't do that.

He told me my sarcasm and humor are a serious problem.  Problem?  It's served me well in 69 years.  

But okay, no smart ass funny remarks with you - noted!  Ever see the Friends episode where Chandler isn't allowed to say what he wants to say, with his sarcastic wit?  His head about explodes. That would be me if I couldn't say those things too. My husband saw that episode and said, "Oh my God, that is 100% you!"  Thankfully, he thinks it's funny.

Now, this old therapist has made a few comments that bothered me, but I kept thinking it was me being sensitive, etc.

Today I left my therapist. I told him I didn't think he and I were a good fit, so I am not going back.

Today, when he asked me where I'd like to live, I said, " Oh, back in NoVa in a heartbeat, but in my teens to my 60s, I'd have said Manhattan. "

The fucker said, "Oh, you don't wanna live there, it's gonna go to hell." I laughed and asked why? 
He said, "They have a new communist mayor."

WTF?????

I said, "Dr V., he is a socialist, not a communist. 
So let me be sure I understand you, you're ok with a US president being controlled by a Russian communist dictator, and you think a socialist is bad?"  He was nodding yes.

"Okay then, I've made the right decision, sir. This is not a good fit for me!"
I left!.

God, how I dislike people! When I would say that I disliked people, I had a friend who would always say, "Oh, you don't really, Peggy." 

Ah, don't confuse my nice smiling Peggy face with how I really feel.
Because, yes, yes, I do.