Oh, foggy Sunday

Sundays kinda suck, for me. I still recall my school days where every Sunday was not all that great because Monday and another start to the school week was just a little ways off. Always has been that way, as long as I can recall. I am not a "religious" person, except in ways that usually piss off those who are "religious". I have my own ideas about what is "truth" and I am always willing to listen to others spout off their ideas, as long as they are willing to listen to mine. It usually works out that I have to listen to them, but they immediately tune me out because what I say conflicts so much with their dogma and has so much more honesty in it that they cannot bear to hear it. I still don't like Sundays very much.

My wife is at my mother-in-laws house messing wife the geese and I had to call her so she could pick up some things on her way home. I should have gone with her, but I just couldn't bring myself to make myself leave the house today. I've just settled into my "corner" and vegged out. This is the most ambitious I have been all day. Actually, I am going by what my shrink has told me and I am in the process of cutting back on certain of my meds. I hope it works out okay, and that I don't get the urge to eat a bullet, like I was at one point not too long ago. If the shrink is right, I'll be able to cut back and it won't hurt me. I am trying my best, but it's not as easy as I thought it would be. Take it one day at a time and keep my chin up, as hokey as that sounds.

Well, that's about it, for today. Guess I'll read some more blogs and finish up my CD burning that I started.

Yesterday was the last day of the end of your old life.

Such a day, I've got

Just abso-fucking-lutely wonderful. Now I find out that I have a hiatal hernia. Shit. If you don't know what that is, it's where the opening in your diaphragm where your esophagus goes through is bigger than it should be. Thus, you have your stomach actually pushing up into your chest, just under your lungs. Dammit. Yeah, when life hands you a lemon, make lemonade, right? What the hell do you make with stomach acid? Huh? What, something like battery acid? Maybe just turn it into puke, hah? Hell.

My ISP has been down most of the day, and just recently came back up. That was not too much of a problem as my wife and sister went over to my mother-in-laws house, the kids went to school and I spent about half the day out mowing the yard. Yah, it's that big of a yard.

When I finished, and after a shower, I sat and listened to some Pink Floyd and Wings. Hey, I know what is music and that shit that is called rap is in no way to be considered as music. Music is something you sing to, not talk to. Geeze. Still, if that is what floats your boat, go for it, I'll not try to talk you out of it - I have that much respect for people, anyway. Just don't bitch at me for my opinion as to what is music and what is not. On the other hand, go ahead and bitch about my opinion, it's funny when people do.

The last day of school really sucks. Three months of "I'm bored, there's nothing to do. Can we go to wherever? Can we, huh, can we, huh, huh, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze!!!! I HAVE to go, there's NOTHING TO DO HERE!!!! WHINE!!!!!!!!!" Such fun. Something to really look forward to, that's for sure. And I'm the reincarnation of Barney Fife, too. You betcha.


Damn ISP.

Damn back.

Damn stomach.

Damn it.

English is such a stupid language.

Have fun.

Doing the grass thing

Okay, I gave it my best shot, but the mower just wasn't in it for me, today.

Of course, it didn't help that I woke up at 1:00 PM today, thanks to medication that is supposed to make me feel "happier". Guess that's the "trade off" of them. My peeve is that they don't seem to be working all that great. Then again, it's probably just my body, doing the "toleration" thing, as usual. Eh? Oh, by "toleration" I mean that I seem to build up a tolerance to any meds I take. I've probably written about this before, so that's all I'll say about it, unless someone tells me different, then I'll discuss it.

So, along about 3:00 PM, I decided that the half of the front yard that wasn't cut three days ago needed to be cut, so I headed out to do so. After less than half of the area was cut, the mower decided that it didn't like me anymore. It was showing it's dislike by running slower and slower and, when I refilled it with gas, it just wouldn't start again. At some point, after the no-start strike by the mower, I decided to hit the old dog-runs with the "weed-eater". Actually it's made by "Black and Decker", but it's the best one I have ever owned.

So, I get done with the dog runs and the manager of the place comes over and tries to help me get the mower started. He pulled out the spark plug and scraped it a bit and it started up. He left and as I was attempting to finish the job, it quit again. He was just leaving and, seeing me sitting on the ground, in almost terminal disgust, he said that he'd get a new spark plug for it and bring it by tomorrow. That I can live with, since I was hurting so bad it was an extreme effort just to not scream each time I moved.

Now, I am on the net, and will be for a while. Maybe, once my meds kick in, I'll go up to the bedroom and try to work on my stories. Till then, I'll just surf the web and see which is what and where.

Later.

A little catching up?

Geeze, I didn't realize that it's been so long since I posted here. Heh. Life has a habit of kicking me in the ass so much that I think my butthole is in the region of my shoulderblades, at times.

Well, let's see.

Since I have last posted I have had an upper GI done. Those are definitely not fun, since I could not eat, drink or smoke prior to the exam. The hospital is a three and a half hour drive from where I live and the only thing that saved me was that my wife and I drove down the day before and spent the night in a motel. We went out to Red Lobster and pigged out on one of their specials so I didn't have to worry too much about being hungry in the morning, before the exam. Sadly, no "fun" was to be had in the motel room, since I was hurting too much to be able to give her the attention I like to give her. The worst part was that there was some Native American shindig going on in Albuquerque and the only room we could find was a suite for $100.00 a night. Let me tell you, if I get a suite, you can damn well be sure that I will milk that mother to the best of my ability. Well, next time, anyway. Heh.

One of the other things I have been up to is working on the "goose house" for my mother-in-law (mainly painting). It's still funny that we have spent hours upon hours fixing up an outhouse that is about 100 years old into a "cute" place for the geese to hang out in. We started with four geese and are now down to two. Two died, though we have no idea why. So, what do we do? My MIL decides to buy two more. Now she will have two running loose outside while she babies the other two in the house until they are old enough to join the other two outside. Well, at least it gives her something to do and that's always a good thing for someone who is 82 years old and lives alone. Actually, we only let the two outside yesterday, for the first time. It was funny as hell, watching those two get their "outside feet" and flopping around and following my MIL as if she was "momma". It was even funnier when she went inside for a moment and those two geese stood right at the screen door and practically cried for her to come back out.

Not much other than that, I have to admit. Gads, I am truly a boring person. I seem to just sit at my computer and veg out most of the time. I did try to get my laptop running in the bedroom, but the damned thing doesn't want to recognize the CD drive, so I will have to get that up and running if I expect to work on any of my stories in the bedroom. Oh, it's okay, I will be doing that while my wife reads. When it's time to bump uglies, we have a habit of just clearing off the bed and going for it, everything else can damn well wait for an hour or so.

Anyway, that's about it. Nothing special. Told you I was boring, what can I say?

Later.

Actually, this is from yesterday...

Gads, what a blah day. When I woke up this morning, the second thing out of my wife's mouth was that she wanted to go to my mother-in-laws house and put up a fence around the front garden to keep the rabbits from eating all the tulip bulbs out of the ground. I politely declined to go along, not only because I had just woken up and had not woken up completely, but because I just didn't feel like going. I have a sneaking suspicion that she had an ulterior motive, but I will not bring that up, as it causes a bit too much emotional problems. (She does read this, on occasion, and I don't want to put in anything that she would not "appreciate". I guess.)

Besides, I just feel to blah to get involved in much of anything. Even this is such a chore that I am amazed that I am getting this much down.

Anyway, here's a blurb I found - unfortunately I haven't a clue as to who said it, so if you know, let me know so I can attribute it properly. Deal?

"English doesn't borrow from other languages; English follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over and goes through their pockets for loose grammar."

Later is later and maybe I am, too.

Another post, why not?

Shit. I think that my meds are beginning to either work against one another or that I am finally becoming "used to" them. That's the way I seem to operate when it comes to medication - I either have complications from then fighting one another or my body gets so used to it that it just doesn't work as well as it did when I started it. One case I can recall is the drug Flexerill(sp?) which is a muscle relaxant. I started on that and I was loopy like you wouldn't believe. However, after about 6 months, I could pop those suckers like candy and the effect was not even as great as if they were candy. So now I don't take them anymore. Story of my life in regards to medications.

Anyway, I figured I'd take a few minutes and post here. I'm going to read a few blogs and then tear into my "play" computer and see if I can verify why it shows a 32k bad sector on the hard disk. Well, that and why the windows explorer tends to screw up, too. Crap, that means that I will have to run Norton from the CD. Oh, well, that's okay, too, I don't want to load Norton up anyway, just run the diagnostics.

And how is/was/will be your day?

Taking time to watch

Today was another interesting day. I went to my mother-in-laws house to do some work and was there for about half the day. First thing was that we (my wife and I) went over to my brother-in-laws house to get some wood so we could build Mom some flower boxes. That was interesting, as several of the boards were about 12 feet long and we were in the car. We managed to get them into the trunk and braced them well enough so that, driving slowly, I was able to get them the 200 or so yards to my Mom's house. Then, using my saw, of course, I measured and cut them to the size I felt was appropriate. (Yes, yes, I know, my wife was the driving force, but I still managed to make a couple of decisions on my own. Sheesh.)

We then took the pieces and nailed them together - not too bad. Not too bad. Then, I took some kind of framing aluminum and bend it so that I could screw it around the outside and make it into the hanging frame. Then my wife put some black plastic on the inside and stapled it. Of course, I decided to use my drill to make some drainage holes in the bottom of the boxes, and, wouldn't you know it, I was stupid enough to make my first attempt from the *inside* of the box. After I unwrapped the plastic from the drill, I sheepishly gave it back to my wife so she could re-staple the plastic. After that, the drilling went nicely, thank you very much.

The hanging of the boxes was interesting, too. My wife held the box from the bottom while I bent the aluminum so that I could screw it onto the frame of the front porch. Then, she helped me while I used tin snips to cut the aluminum into manageable lengths. Once that first box was done, she helped me cut the aluminum on the second box before she held it up for me to attach to the porch frame.

After that, it was a simple matter of putting in the soil, planting the flower and herbs (spearmint and peppermint, yum!) and watering them a bit. Not too bad a job, considering I was using minimum tools (not having my electric screwdriver really sucked!).

The other thing was when we were getting ready to leave. I was sitting in the car, door open, and was watching some of those big, red, Colorado ants on the curb/berm next to the car. If you have never watched ants, you really should take some time and just sit and watch them - it's fascinating! Anyway, as I was watching them, I noticed one ant who was carrying a stone. I figured that, in comparison, if I was carrying that much, I would have my car in my teeth. The funny part was that the ant kept sliding, falling and rolling down the side of the curb/berm. Yet, all that time of not having its balance, the ant totally refused to let go of that stone. It took it about two minutes to get about two feet from where it started and let go of the stone.

Now, when comes the time that I will think about giving up on something, I can recall the struggle that ant went through and think that if that ant can do it, I can do it. After all, I do think that I am a bit smarter than that ant, you know. (Just not as physically strong, comparatively speaking. Heh.)

Oh, something else I thought of:
I have always been fascinated by ants. They are working little devils. They don't bitch at each other. They don't screw one another over for a higher place in society. They don't "collect" friends to show how popular they are. They don't lord themselves over others just because they can. They don't screw one another over for a few extra bucks. Then again, they are ants, so most of that doesn't matter, right? But, look at what ants are doing. They are preparing for and taking care of one thing - children. That's right, their goal is to make sure that things are right for their children. Makes me wish that people, especially people in positions of power, had even one twentieth of that need. Won't happen, because all those things I said that ants don't do is exactly what people WILL do. Since ants don't do them, they have no need to justify their actions. People will do and say ANYTHING, and I do mean ANYTHING AT ALL, to justify their actions. And that is why many children, of people, continue to suffer.


That's it for now.

Another day, another whatever

I am so glad that I don't take crap personally. I mean, I can rant about how some people treat other people and expect to get shit about it, but I refuse to take it personally. I mean, how many times does the average blogger get slammed and belittled in another blog? Heh. Now on to better things, no more rants about how people can be cruel and smile and say it was just a joke.

Rant time

Okay, I have to vent on this. I just read a blog where an adult female still giggles about the "size" of a guy she dated in high school/junior high. Women of all stripes complain, again and again, about how guys are soooooo insecure and afraid of commitment, but still resort to disparaging guys due to their "penile size". They moan and bitch and whine and complain about guys who look at other women and how men only look at "model" type women and drool over big tits. Then, when a guy shows interest in a woman, she has to judge him based on how big his dick is. These are the type of women that carry on the saying of "size matters" and make liars out of those women who say it doesn't. Or, at least, make those who say size doesn't matter still looked at with caution by guys.

I just wanted to say that women need to get over their giggling and disparaging of men because of the size of their dicks and look at themselves when they do start giggling. And, finally realize that there is more to a guy than how big his dick is, and they don't need to belittle those guys who don't "measure up" to their oh-so-exacting standards of dick size.

Rant over.

Today's Meandering

Okay, I know I've not been updating this thing as frequently as most blogs I've seen, but I really don't care. This is my place to meander and this is were I will meander. If anyone really wants to read this, they'll just have to deal with it. I won't say I'm sorry, because I'm not. I'm not a "blog whore" who just has to post every day about every detail of my life. Even if that detail is bigger than usual. Heh.

Anyway, we have been in the market to purchase a house and it seems that our credit isn't enough to get it. We tend to purchase things with cash and haven't any credit cards. Yup, not even from a local store/gas station. We have plenty of stuff on our credit file, some not so great, of course - we're not perfect and don't claim to be (unlike some people who will smugly say that their credit is "perfect" and look down at those who have some slight blemishes on their credit - smug, nasty, self-important, useless bastards is what they are). But, what we do have on our credit is just not enough "stuff" to satisfy those money-sucking whores that call themselves "lending institutions". Not that I am all that pissed off, to be honest, but I am getting tired of paying rent when I could be paying off a place I can call home for good.
Anyone want to co-sign with me?
Bwahahahahahahaha!!!!!
(I slay me!)

Pain is a close, personal friend of mine - both physical and mental. Not a friend I want to have, but I manage to keep it close enough that it doesn't turn into an enemy. I classify pain with that old saying - "Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer". Hey, it works for me. Even though my pain hasn't really gotten to the enemy stage, I do what I can with what I have. Medication helps, but only to a certain point. So, like I said, I do what I can.

Well, that's enough for today.

Getting old?

Gads, I seem to have some good ideas about what to write and then, blooey, they're gone and I forget to post here. I don't know what to write half the time and the other half I just forget to write down what I want to post here. Oh, I have a small text file that I use to write in, and, when I am ready, I just copy and paste it into my blog. Easier, as I don't have to worry about getting logged off the site for not doing anything for a specific amount of time. That is, if Blogger even does that. I don't know, and to be honest I don't care, since I will do it my way and not worry too much about their way.

This is hard to believe, but I am sitting here and there is a blizzard going on outside. Geeze, southern Colorado can get weird, I guess. My son was whining earlier to go over to a friends house, but I managed to deal with the whining until the weather let up a bit. Of course, now him and two of his buddies are in the kitchen, eating my huney buns and doing whatever it is that 12 year olds do when adults are not breathing down their necks. I didn't ask why they decided to come over here and I don't think I will. I do know, however, that the mother of the other two boys is just as happy to get them out from underfoot as we are to get mine out the door whenever we can. Whining can only be tolerated for a certain amount of time, then it gets to be like the bit where kids are going, "MINE, MINE, MINE" over and over again with that voice that goes into your brain and makes you want to chew on tinfoil to stop the voices. Heh.

I guess I can place myself along with the "old folks" now. I was working on the "goose house" for my mother-in-law and wound up with a minor sunburn. The problem is that I managed to get it on the top of my head. Not enough hair, now, to keep out the sunlight. I'm not really all that much of a hat person, but I guess I don't really have that much of a choice. Even though I tend to call myself a troglodyte, I still get out enough to need to cover my head, now, I guess. Still, I don't worry all that much about losing my hair. It's all grey now, anyway, so losing it is the next logical step. And, no, I refuse to color it - I figure that I worked my ass off for each and every grey hair that I have and I am proud of it. If it wants to fall out, that's okay too.

I think I'll go and mess with my wife.

Today's Meandering

Okay, here I am, sitting in the "computer room" and wondering why the hell it's so hard for me to write. Oh, most certainly I have all the usual excuses available, plus a couple that most people (writers/writer-wannabes) don't, which are both medical and mental. But, then I begin to wonder why I let these things begin to rule over me. My wife is my best fan and best critic (she is wonderful with her "red pen"!), but she doesn't "push" me into doing something that she thinks I just don't want to do at that moment.

Okay, had to take a break to see what was screwing up my sister(adopted)'s computer. Just did a restart and now it's running Spybot to see if (what, actually) is eating it. Heh.

Anyway, back to my rant/ramble/meandering.

I have been sitting at this computer for at least 4 hours and all I have done is read e-mail and read blogs. Granted, the blogs are "required reading" but they should not be the only reason I am on this silly machine. I admit that I enjoy plugging in new programs and making them do what I want them to do, but I still want to write. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can hear all those other "writers" telling me to "just write". That's the problem, I can't. Won't. Whatever.

When the "muse" hits me, I am rarely in a position to do much about it. Example: I begin to have the idea for a new bestseller just before I fall asleep. Now, sleep is such a prized thing with me, that I will refuse to stop the process, mainly for fear of not being able to start it up again in a reasonable amount of time. Then, I get up in the morning and do you think that that story idea is anywhere to be found? Nope, not usually. If it does, it is either not what I thought it was or it just sounds plain stupid in the light of day.

Hell, I just noticed that most of this really is meandering, but I figure, what the hell, if Stephen King can do it I sure as hell can!

I think I'll leave it at that, for now.

Catching up

Alright, I know it's been a while since I have posted, but life does that, you know. It's Saturday night, I'm sitting here, just finishing up my blog-reading for the day and decided to post here.

To catch up - my visit with my brothers went well, even if I did have to leave a day or so earlier than the other two had to. I had my oldest brother, the one next up from me, and one of the two sets of twins with me at the house of one of the twins. We just sat around and BSed, ate, BSed more, went shopping, BSed, ate, and BSed more. Even went out to the garage where I saw my very first race car (stock, I think) in person and experienced the ear-destroying volume they can produce. I even got to watch one of my brothers attempt to screw in a bolt for a water pump and then watch him take it back out when it broke.

I do have to say that the drive was the absolutely most boring one I have EVER had the joy of experiencing. Miles and miles and miles of absolutely nothing but scrub and a few elk here and there. Having to stop every hour or so to keep from falling asleep at the wheel was fun, too.

Other than that, the days have just been going by, one at a time.

Today was somewhat interesting as the entire family piled into the car and went to my mother-in-laws house to visit and do some cleaning and such. We picked up some wood, metal fencing and a sheet of metal to work on her future goose house. Then, the joy of going through her basement and picking out things that needed to be thrown away and picking out those things that were just too cool to be thrown away and just had to make their way back to our house.

Tomorrow, I get to watch the kids while my wife and my (adopted) sister go back to my mother-in-laws house to do some more cleaning and visiting and such.

I'm just tired, hurting, and dirty.

I think I am off to the shower. What about you?

Happy Birthday to me

Two days ago I turned 47 years old. Yah. Big horking deal. I don't really feel that old, but I guess I am. Aches and pains make me feel older, much of the time, but I refuse to mentally "get old". Being young in mind is wonderful and I enjoy being able to sort of look at things with a younger mental outlook.

Actually, I did have a pretty good birthday. My mother-in-law came over (which I knew about) but then my brother-in-law and his wife showed up (which was a surprise to me). Typical dinner, though much larger than usual, then presents. Oh, was I surprised! My wife went out and got me a high-class telescope (reflecting type) and I was almost floored! I had been wanting one, and we were talking about putting it in lay-away so that it would be "given" in a couple of months. I was, to say the least, flabbergasted. I will willingly admit that I was very close to tears. It was the most memorable birthday that I have ever had. Period.

Tomorrow my wife and I will begin an early morning trek to visit four of my brothers in Alamagordo, New Mexico. We expect to get there sometime in the afternoon (it's about an 8 hour drive) and then we will sit and torment one another till the wee hours of the morning. And tormenting one another is one of the areas my family has always been good at. I fully expect to get ribbed unmercifully as the "baby" of the family. Yep, at 47 years of age, I am still the youngest of 7 brothers and 3 sisters. I know, my parents didn't even get a TV till I was born, so what does that tell you? Heh.

Okay, I am off to the shower. What about you?

Sunday Night

Yup, that's right - Sunday Night. That is, until I realized that I had spelled it "noght" in the subject line. Noght? Distant cousin to "nought" I suppose. (And how many of you just opened a spell-checker to check, eh?) Anyway, it's still Sunday night, no matter how hard I try to pretend it's not. By now, you're probably wondering why the fuss about Sunday Night, right? (Hey, at least let me dream, okay??) Tomorrow is somewhat of a busy day, what with two things happening -

1. My fourth wedding anniversary

2. My 47th birthday.

That's right, my wife set it up so that there is no freaking way in bloody hell that I can EVER forget my wedding anniversary. Not to mention that there was a earthquake on the day that we got married. Now, how cool is it that even Mother Nature gives ya a shake for your wedding day/birthday??? I remember standing outside, arms around my wife, about 6-7 hours before the ceremony, and just letting the ground sway and shake under us. Remarkable! No damage, as it was fairly small, but watching the car sway was simply wonderful.

Hey, I can't help it, I'm just weird. As much as I enjoy/hate earthquakes (sort of a love/hate relationship, you know), I used to say that I would rather go through a hurricane/tornado than a earthquake - at least you can make an attempt to run the hell away from a hurricane/tornado. Now, I think I would rather go through an earthquake than a hurricane/tornado - more of a "coolness factor" to me.

Well, I really guess I should get in a shower before the big day, tomorrow. What are you going to do tomorrow?

Another day

Yup, that's right, another day. Done and gone. Almost bedtime. Or not, as the case may be.

I had a pretty decent day, today. I used some plaster and patched a hole in the wall of the stairwell. Sister did a head-dive down the stairs and missed the turn (she wasn't hurt) and blasted a pretty decent hole, along with breaking the corner post thing. So, I finally (after about 2 months) get the gumption up and slap some plaster on it. One thing I forgot was that the plaster in the pre-mixed container is sort of on the sloppy side. I got smarter than the plaster, though - I took about 4 handsfulls and slopped them on the plastic tarp and let them air dry for a couple of hours. Presto, semi-solid plaster! Still, I will have to tidy it up tomorrow and then sand it in about 4-5 days so it won't look too sloppy.
(Word for the day, kiddies - SLOPPY! Yaaaahhhh!!)

Other than taking a power-nap, I spent the rest of the day just fooling around with my computers. Got my tablet connected, but still have to find the pen that goes with it, and installed a program that I have been meaning to install for a couple of months.

I think I'm going to go take a shower. How about you?

Add on...

Well, due to overwhelming demand, (Yah, right, and just what side-street of the Twilight Zone do you think I live on? Points and cash to the person who guesses right.) I have decided to post a picture of myself. Enjoy.

Hehehehehehe...

"First impressions are best" is horsehockey.

Back again

Okay, how do so many people seem to manage to post on their blogs, when they are suffering from some form of depression? I sit and stare at the page, hoping that something comes up that I can talk about, that won't cause me more depression. I get depressed just reading some blogs, so that most certainly doesn't help.

Anyway. Here goes another attempt.

Got kids? Almost teenager kids? Know that they will, happily and with clean conscience, lie their asses off to you? My son was on my computer the other night and when he had gotten off and gone to bed, I found that the screen had some blobs of goop on it. They were a mess and quite difficult to get off. Now, before you start screaming at me about my own cleanliness habits, I know for a fact that when I had gotten up there were NO blobs of anything on that screen. The next day I confronted him and he totally denied doing it. Hell, at 11 1/2 years old, he most assuredly knows right from wrong, so saying he has problems with telling right from wrong is out. I finally found out that he was getting the goopy stuff out of my mouse pad (it has a pocket of jell-stuff in it for my wrist) and got it on the screen. Other than him doing it, I was mainly concerned about getting it off, so I can see the screen. My main response was that, if he did it again, he'd lose use of my computer for a month. Since it's the only one he's allowed to do internet surfing on, he agreed, pretty quickly.

We had a bit of a "family discussion" on how kids tend to lie and steal. Maybe it did some good. I certainly hope it did. When tears start and parents are talking "in a nice tone", I tend to feel that some soaked in. Of course, it doesn't hurt that they have a cousin who is a policeman and can help us out with "jail", either.

Okay, that's it. Go take a bath, I'm planning on one.

Just rambling

What, nine days and counting, right? Or is it eight days? Hard to keep track, sometimes.

I sometimes wonder why I write this. Is it for notoriety? Fame? Fortune? A big car? What? Hell, if I knew I'd probably be bigger than Dooce. As it is, I guess I'm lucky enough as it is. After all, once a week or so can't be all that bad. Can it? Naaaaah.

This is hard for me. I mean that. I want to write, but trying to get the words to jump onto the page is hard for me. I wonder if you know what torture it is to have such a lack of focus that the act of typing words from brain to keyboard is sheer hell. I have lucid moments, to be sure, but they seem to work against me, rather than for me. I WANT to talk, to type, to gush, to free-associate! Hell, I WANT to WRITE!!! And my mind tends to just sit there and sort of go Pllllllbt at me.

I went to the doctor today. Got another prescription for my stomach. Soon to be scheduled for an upper and lower GI exam. I had one of those, before, so I know what to look forward to. Oh, yes, I most certainly do! The drinking of the fluid that seems to be super-lax, the pills that sort of push the super-lax through and then the enema. Talk about being clean. Of course, I may get lucky and have the same type of procedure where I get to lay on a bed and have a pretty nurse to chat with. (Though I'd rather have my wife there.) Then, the nice drugs that make everything go away while tubes and such are shoved into my mouth and asshole so that they can tell me, most likely, the same thing - "just a couple of polyps, no ulcer". I like my health, but is this really worth it? The cute part about the appointment, however, is the "shit cards" I was given. Heheheh. I get to swab my shit with a stick and mail it to them. How cool is that?

Hell with it, I'm going to bed. What about you?

The Doctor Visit

Okay, I know it's been less than a week since I last posted, but that's okay, it just seems like a week to me.

My mother-in-law is pretty cool. Whenever I am at her house and she offers me something and I say, "No, thank you", boy, she just grabs that and runs for a touchdown with it. Everything from the sarcastic repeating of "No, thank you" to rolling eyes to mumbling to threats of never offering me a damn thing ever again. Today was an exception, sort of. I was driver of her truck to take her to a doctor appointment (we try to not let her drive - I'll explain later) and I had to make an emergency Pepsi stop before we got onto the freeway. Driving away, she began a tirade about me and how I wouldn't take a Pepsi from her but I would buy one at a store. I mentioned that I would have taken one had we gone to her house to pick her up (her daughter-in-law drove her to my house), but that only got her started. I mistakenly said that she should have brought one with her, for me. Her response? "What, do you think I'm stupid and carry one in my purse?!?!?" I think I smiled, but knew better than to laugh outright.

My mother-in-law is 82 years old and her reflexes are not the best anymore, thus we tend to arrange her appointments where one of the children can drive her. With a daughter, son, daughter-in-law and son-in-law within 10 miles of her house, we are pretty adept at getting to her before she manages to get into her truck and make a drive on her own. I haven't been here long enough to observe her driving, but the stories told to me have been more than enough to make me side with the other kids and not let her get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

The only problem with the drive today was the amount of sunlight mixed with snow covered plains on both sides of the freeway. Ever try to drive through sunlit snow without snowglasses? I was squinting so hard my sinuses clogged. The only other part that was somewhat disconcerting were the occasional quiet times. When you have one male and three females in a vehicle and all three females stop talking, you can bet on one of two things - one is that one of them made a faux pas and was waiting for me to get mad/sad/whatever and the other is that one of them made a comment/question and they were waiting for me to get mad/sad/whatever. I have found that my best response is the best response that any male can give in that kind of situation - "What?"

All in all, a good visit to the doctor and now Mom has to go to physical therapy for her arm. Just don't ask her how her heart is. That is, unless you are ready for at least 15 minutes of "The left side is good, the right side is good, etc., etc."

I need a shower and some sleep. How about you?