It’s not that I don’t have stuff to tell you friends. I’m not even secretly addicted to a video game(for once). I just have not had the solid time to give you all the attention you deserve. It’s no excuse really…Just remember though, if you really need a crse fix, click the sidebar for my twitter link. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think twitter is “better” than you or anything. It’s just quicker. Kind of like you are my betrothed and twitter is just a friend with benefits. I like to plan our time together, but I can just hook up with twitter when the bar closes. But today friends, I thought I’d post to tell you I’m turning over a new leaf.
I had a little health scare last week. My feet wouldn’t warm up one night and because I was in the throes of insomnia, I forgot that the problem could be related to tramping through snow in soggy shoes for ten hours (off and on of course) for the first time in ten days. (Because friends, much of my job involves cold sogginess in the winter). I decided I must have diabetes and that my feet were going to need cut off. Now loyal readers know my issue with having stumps (or as they are more delicately known, nubbins), and are probably aware of my fear of karmic retribution. Still, I don’t think I shared the shock of my most recent realization.
Let me preface the realization by making sure that we are all on the same page. Can we all agree that there are some people in the world that are fetchers and some that are fetchees? It’s best when the fetcher and the fetchee are together (like Gill and I). (Obviously, I am the fetchee.) I’ve always believed that karma would not allow me to be in a wheel chair because it always seems like folks who are in wheelchairs are fiercely independent and like to do everything for themselves. Since I’m only grudgingly independent, I figured that karma wouldn’t punish me in that way. Then, it happened. I met a person in a wheel-chair who was a textbook example of a fetchee. Just about the time I realized we couldn’t be friends because her fetchee status trumped mine and I was not about to become her fetcher (don’t judge me friends. We all have our character limitations, I just try to be more honest about mine on here), I realized that if a fetchee like her could end up in a wheelchair, well then so could I.
So back to last Tuesday night. I kept checking my feet in the bathroom and couldn’t decide if they were dark pink from squishing them to assess for numbness or because they were starting to turn black because of impending diabetes rot. (yes, that’s a little flash of my ignorance surrounding the disease) At one point, I noticed dark spots behind both my ankles. They almost looked like bruises but didn’t hurt. I was alarmed enough to want to wake up Gill to see if he had the same dark spots. I played that tape through and realized he would just yell at me and probably wouldn’t offer the extensive examination and reassurance that I was looking for. Instead, I got up and WebMDed the problem. Turns out there really is no such thing as diabetes rot, and after a brief thrombosis scare, I figured out it was probably just cold.
Yes indeed, the incident scared me friends. I’m changing my ways for real this time. Maybe that means I’ll blog more too!
Of course I’m kidding. See…it’s a play on the myth of the Marie Antoinette quote. I feel compelled to explain my jokes now because (much to my dismay) it appears that I got blocked even from the unabridgedSecretTweet site. Apparently, while it’s ok to tweet secrets about bearing children with your teen-age step-brother, stealing from your company, reveling in your drug addiction and cheating on your spouse without remorse, it’s not “appropriate” to share an extremely toned down wish to have Haitian house-servant kids. Even if you specify that you would treat them well. For the record, I’d like to state that if I’d had more than 140 characters at my disposal, I would have explained that I only mention the Haitians because of a recent Law & order episode depicting such a slavery ring as originating in Haiti. In reality, I am open to house-servant kids of all races, cultures and ethnicities. I like to think of myself as equal opportunity in this sense.
Yes, I know it’s “wrong” to want little house-servants to cater to my whims (hey let’s not be sick here, Im just talking about doing dishes and bringing me iced tea…maybe cooking and laundry once they get a little older…I would totally wait until they were adults before I introduced anything more …. personal) but is it seriously worse than bragging about knowingly giving random strangers herpes? Ahh but Ive digressed completely. I’ve also run out of time. Stay tuned for a complete report of our weekend home improvement adventures, courtesy of the Fabus. (Now is a good time to visit the cast of characters if you don’t know the Fabus. They will play prominently in my next installment).
Until then, I have two shout outs.
1. My RT friend and fellow twitter buddy Buff just started blogging so go visit her. She’s outspoken, funny and thoughtful. Check out her recent post about dog birthday parties.
2. Any twitter followers here? If so, it’s a little known fact that Madame Fabu twitters too. See her link on my sidebar.
So I had the realization yesterday that my attempt to get away from random dashes has slowed my blogging way down. And after that, I had the realization that it’s my damn blog! What’s wrong with random dashes anyway? You people don’t need paragraphs to keep you happy right? I didn’t think so. All right then. Let’s just put this whole experiment behind us and move on. No blame no shame.
– I’m happy to report that we may have successfully retrained the Turnip to sleep through the night. I’m not offering details of our methods publicly but I will say that they are…..legal. Right now, I’m trying to keep him awake until at least 8pm. I feel kind of bad but also kind of tempted to engage in some brainwashing. Nothing evil of course, just a few repetitions of “I like to listen to my Mommy” or “I like to do what Mommy tells me to do.” Maybe flash some pictures of him getting buckled in his car seat smiling as opposed to throwing punches and requiring significant physical restraint. Of course, much like the Sasquatch or the Yedi, there have been few sitings of this particular phenomenon and none captured on film.
– I saw the short overweight obnoxious guy with the large man-boobs from last summer’s soccer clinic tonight at Norm’s dance class. Gentle readers will be happy to hear that I controlled my impulse to kick him in his soft fleshy parts. I would like to pretend I did so because I am a mature adult. In truth, I simply couldn’t bear the idea of an impotent tennis shoe kick when I was so close to so many kids in tap shoes. Had I been wearing tap shoes myself? Id have contused his ass. (Or some part of him anyway).
– I went to the doctor today. The good news is that I lost two pounds since April (I know it’s not much but considering my personal habits, it’s cause to marvel) The bad news is that I may be shrinking. I don’t know how such a thing could happen to a cheese-lover like myself but friends, I am alarmed. Still, Im probably ok with the possibility that the two pounds came off my height.
Ok I have to go “play guys” with the turnip. Long Live the Random Dash!
Well friends, I slept for 2.5 hours last night so you know what that means! Another exciting edition of crse’s insomnia thinking!
1. Staple removers are pretty darn amazing when you think about it. I could say more….but I don’t want to take anything from you gentle readers. Go ahead, just take a minute and think about the staple remover….pretty darn amazing eh?
2. Arrogant people piss me off. I mean really piss me off. This dwelling was based on an experience last night in which my integrity was questioned (ok perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but the identified behavior was notably dickish) by an arrogant person. Who was drunk. Can I just add that as a rule? One’s position on the high horse is diminished notably when one use the c word to a professional regarding another professional. (No he did not mean “c is for crse”, but fortunately nor did he direct the word at me personally)
3. I really hate plot holes. And false set ups in my shows. Like when someone is foreshadowed to be a complete psycho (or at least really interesting) and they end up getting killed. Or worse, being a “good” person.
4. If Chinese restaurants didn’t have unappetizing seafood items located in alarming places throughout the buffets (e.g. some chewed up looking spew stuffed into clam shells between the strawberry bananas and the lime jello) I would not be so resistant to them. Oh and if they didn’t have a funky smell and if it wasn’t against the restaurant code to be polite to patrons. That might help too….
5. Did I chase away the guest(s) of honor from our party last week with my drunken rant about gimp awareness?
6. Im so thrilled that the Turnip finally proposed! (did I mention?) Ive waited a year for this. Just think, only a month ago he was calling hugs and kisses “mean and wude and nasty nasty nasty” and then out of the blue on Sunday, he tells the family he wants to marry me! Don’t you judge me people. He has a future therapy savings account.
7. Ben 10’s grandpa is kind of a passive-aggressive dick about food prep, I think. Seriously, he is at least 60 and these are his grandkids right? So why does he insist on acting like live squid is ok to serve? They are like 12 years old you selfish ass. Would it kill you to grab some tofudogs?
Yeah, I went with the numbered format this time. I like to shake it up for you folks every once in a while. You’re welcome….
So Im starting to think I might lean towards the pessimistic. I mean last night was amazing. For the first time in a long time, it really felt like we finally had something to be proud of as a nation. I mean this is history people. History! It’s so exciting to be part of that history.
Still, I woke up this morning to pumpkin seeds scattered all over my floor Norm standing over me telling me the dog had somehow managed to get on top the stove and drag last night’s chicken down and it was all over the floor. And that’s when I saw the pumpkin seeds. We are officially tardy for the first time this year. My data for a report makes absolutely no sense and I have no idea how to explain this “anomaly” to the psychologist. At all. Ive gotten fret calls from moms. I have two solid days of facing yuckiness. No three. I forgot Im meeting a new person on friday. Here is all that I want to know friends. Where’s my Change? All I can say is gasoline better be free out there. And “Yes you can” clean my house please.
How’s that for reframing in the positive? Ok well how about this? In an unprecedented landslide, Maxine Factor swept the Crseum. With a 64% to 36% lead. (Im sorry Sy, your vote didn’t make a whole percentage point. Maybe next time.) She is more than thrilled and Im sure she will have some fantastic words of acceptance today. (Although she did text me yesterday to tell me she was completely upset not to see her name on the tv. She doesn’t blame you of course). Stay tuned for more Maxine Factor in the future.
Framing it all in a positive way, right? That would be my theme for November. Starting today. Anyway, as loyal readers may have noticed, I kind of fell apart blog-wise last week. I could make a bunch of excuses but really, aren’t we better than that friends? Intstead, let’s move forward. I don’t have anything concrete really but here at the crseum we are about baby steps and so find no shame in resorting to slashes of randomosity. And so it begins:
– I am fully aware that the oddities found in Dora The Explorer could support its own blog. However, i am most troubled by the fact that every single episode involving Dora facing a nemesis resolves itself with villain redemption. I am not generalizing. I have never in six years seen a villain stay evil. The witch promises to be “friends”. The dog-catcher gets bored and decides to follow a new dream. The crazy bee queen is so happy from the music, she decides not to be crazy anymore. The list goes on. Now friends, Im all about human redemption. But seriously? Dora never runs into anyone who stays an asshole? Not only do I find this hard to believe but it’s also extremely troublesome in terms of the lessons it teaches my children. I feel it’s my duty as a parent to make sure my children are well-rounded in their understanding of human jackassery. I do my best to teach them that people can be dickwads. I try to point out human shittiness whenever we see it. How, then, do I explain Dora to them? When they look at me with hope shining on their faces because some hacked up Mexican Jack Frost decides not to be a shit smear, I have nothing. Sorry, this isn’t working in terms of my positive framing November plan. Let’s move on.
– I had an extremely interesting dream yesterday morning (which reminds me, let’s take a second to shout out to the time change! Whoohoo….). Norm had a birthday party yesterday afternoon and we needed to get his present (that part of the dream was true actually). For some reason, John McCain was part of my family and was going to take him to the party. So McCain was at my house but kept getting calls so he couldn’t get ready. He was wandering around the house on the phone wearing dress pants and a t-shirt. The whole dream was me being anxious because Norm was getting later and later and not wanting to interrupt the guy because after all, he’s running for president right? So I find something to give the birthday kid and get everyone in the car. I wake up feeling resolved. Even better? Norm had plenty of time not to lean on some random Puppy Divas I found in a bag as a forgotten part of someone else’s gift.
– This leads me to my next point. I don’t expect this to be very popular with my readership but I feel the need to keep the blog clean and honest. I know Ive alluded to this before but I want to be clear. I really think John McCain is a funny guy. I know he has a rage problem and I totally am not saying it’s ok for a middle aged/older man to call his wife the c word (I don’t say old because if I recall this was several years ago right?) But, well, my own grandpa was pretty damn crazy to my grammy but he was always good to us. Also, please don’t think this means Id vote for him. Folks, I think you all know Im really really liberal. Like socialist liberal. I do not agree with or support republican policies. Most importantly I am broke. I can’t afford to wait for the wealth to trickle down. Im more apt to believe as a broke person it will trickle up. (e.g. if you give me more money I spend it on things that big businesses want me to spend it on. Everyone wins.) (Well everyone except my children at some point in the future when they need college money and such but hell, no matter who’s president that will most likely be problematic) Im just saying when it comes to presidential candidates Id like to have a beer with, he’s up there friends. He is up there.
– Have you watched the Vote Pretty video? Have you voted today? Oh yes I am re-embedding.
And now I can move on. Mostly random shit tonight folks.
– Bugles have become my new honey mustard pringles. To the point that my lips and tongue are burnt from the salt. It’s a good burnt though. And still I keep eating them. Im eating them right now you know. Do you feel a little dirtier? knowing that? I think you do.
– The good thing about a sleep machine is that I have a lot of more energy than I used to. For example, I was at my dad’s the other day and the phone rang. Usually I don’t move when this happens (hey, he can haul his 64 year old ass off the chair just as well as I can and it’s his phone. Don’t you judge me, Im looking out for his heart health). But before I could even think twice, my leg twitched like I was going to get up. He was out of the chair answering it before things got out of hand and I was moving limbs or anything crazy but we were both impressed with my new found prowess.
-The bad thing about a sleep machine is that I don’t automatically wake up anymore. I sleep in. Ive been late for two appointments this week because my handy little internal alarm clock was apparently the sign of severely dysfunctional circadian rhythms.
– I’ve never successfully spelled the word rhythms on my first try.
-Here is an exciting twist in my ongoing love affair with Sheetz. It happened Saturday after having a lengthy conversation with my new friend Dennick about said love affair on Saturday (he is as equally smitten). Less than 8 hours after the conversation, I found myself at the very same Sheetz location that Id said I don’t frequent often (which happens to be his most accessible Sheetz) pumping gas. I look around idly friends and there it is. A big sign that says “My Sheetz Rewards”. Friends, it was like the heavens opened up and sprinkled manna all around me. I’m fairly certain that Sheetz has decided to reward me just for being me.
– Im starting to notice that the older I get, the less I like people. And even if I initially like them? Sometimes I find myself liking them less the second time I meet them. Im fairly certain Im on the fast path to bitter old woman. At least Im hoping it’s that path and not the path to a violently psychotic break from reality. Either way, Ill keep you posted.
If you enjoy a good shivku or like to read unbridled fantasies of violence in 140 characters or less, check out Fabku.
Madame is a bit convoluted in her twitter system so she cannot follow you back right now. Still, if you are one of my people, she can and probably does read your tweets!