Monday, September 24, 2012

Darn it, my office reeks...

I had figure out how to spell a fart and not just any fart, the reader had to smell it. Hear it. See the gross odor. The reader had to feel the intense burn as the slow welding release of gas filtered into the atmosphere. The smell that made people dart for the nearest exit. The kind that you hear. The kind that makes your face scrunch up. The kind that fill your nose. The kind that make you stifle a laugh and hope no one realizes it was....YOU! The kind that you hope never to have every minute of every day, year after year after year after year...
RIPPPP, No, no that won't work. Bluumph! Nope, not it either. (frustration until, Ah, ha)
Do you know there is a web site for fart sounds?  No really, fart sounds. Like wet ones, and burning ones and those damn farts that smell like rotten eggs. The kind that reek and toot and make you laugh...
Thus for the better part of my afternoon I hampered down to Dooley Deadwood's life and the continuing Tales of Higher Commands.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Amen, Mom, amen.

 Stop stressing over little things.  Take a step back. Take a break from the world. My mom used to say,  "Don't let little things get your goat."  Until last Tuesday I figured I was doing okay.  I have Planters Fashitis in my foot, but it's getting better, thanks to John at Core Physical Therapy. I'm learning about Isms and Ideology's in my graduating class, which is going great. I am writing, may not be what I really want to write about, but hey, Henry James isn't that bad. So now I have Itis and Isms in my life.
   Okay, okay I'm beating around the bush.  Last Tuesday, I was at work and doing my job, and all of a sudden I can't see out of one eye, the other was blurry.  I felt flush, my knees felt like lead, tingling in my hand, and I was about to pass out. I was confused.  I couldn't talk, and when I did it was like I had cotton in my cheeks. I held the wall or rather the wall held me. Still can't figure that one out.  After a minute I felt better, I still had double vision in my right eye, and my face felt ticklish. We have a high blood pressure machine and I used it. I saw 97.  I said holy crap, and I don't know what the other one was, but it was enough to be rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.  There I was in the ER hooked up to a heart monitor.  I thought, Damn, this can't be good. I thought about my life. My bestie, LaVeda, My Kids. My grand kids.  My writing. My book. Damn I still need to get it published. School. Oh, no, I need to be okay for class. Okay, okay calm down, I thought. Crap, double Crap!  What if I can't write anymore?  In 1990, my mother, my beautiful wonderful mother died of heart disease.  She had several small strokes, then open heart surgery and died in recovery. My father died two months before her.  Am I going to die?  Will I see them again?  Billy, maybe Matt, my brother Rick, my niece, my nephew? 
     One thought I remember vividly, even now, was I buried Billy on the 28th of February 2008, the very day I felt like I was going to die. I prayed that day and remembered.   My blood pressure came back down, not normal, but down to a safe level. With several days in the hospital, behind me, I'm home.  I feel like a pin cushion with sticky notes from the needles and sticky stuff to hold the tubes and wires on my body.  Still have some tests to be done, and writing with only one eye, but hopefully all this will be resolved in a few days. Thank God. Lesson learned. Don't stress. Don't let little things get your goat..... Amen, Mom, amen.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Doing the Write thing

It's now February, day after my 56th birthday. God, did I really write that? I still smoke, on occasion, Oh okay, a little bit more. Chew my finger nails, scratch my head, (hey, at least its not my ass) and write.
I started the MA classes, LIT first.  Here we go, I thought. Maybe I can get some of my own writing done. Nope, not going to happen.  Not in this class. Maybe the next one. I've read from cover to cover, three times, The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, which was very weird.  Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, which I thought was lousy. I'm no critic, but I don't get into these types of books.  However, many people I know would disagree with me, and that's okay.  Two craft books as my old mentors in the MFA program would call them, and still need to write a fifteen page report on The Turn of the Screw. Not done though, have three reports and posts to do every week.
Whew, I'm loving it.....

This month, February 23rd, marks the 4th year without my husband Billy.  I miss him, still. 

Stay busy. Don't talk about it. Don't ask. I'm okay. Bye for now.