RECIPROCATIONS March 13, 2012

When did it become proper etiquette to set a date for someone to come over to your house for dinner as a way of reciprocating for a dinner party they invited you to, but hasn’t happened yet??  Could someoneplease explain this to me??

I will be the first to admit that this Doll has become very stingy with her down time. I have two days off a week, and one of them is usually taken up with resting up from the work week. TBG informed me this evening that we are having his folks over for a dinner party in about two weeks….because we are having dinner at their house this coming Sunday. WTF???? Really?  I had already said I could wait until the beginning of May.  I mean, that doesn’t even give a person enough time to have new and exciting things to gossip about!!

Oh, and don’t EVEN get me started about the fact that I will spend all day Saturday cleaning the house since TBG works on Saturday….and then spend that Sunday helping get the menu together…..UGH!

I use to LOVE to give cozy dinner parties…..but I don’t like feeling like you must reciprocate.  That doesn’t sound like much fun…it feels more like an obligation.  It makes me not want to go to one, because then it feels like I HAVE to get busy planning one in return.  Where does it end??  When do you call a dinner party truce??

TBG thinks I am now a prime candidate for the title of Queen of Curmudgeons….he might be right…I just want to figure out how to get off of the reciprocity merry go round.   

Setting Aside The PC January 25, 2012

I am a straight from the hip, no-nonsense kind of gal. In other words, not that I would EVER want to go back to the “Archie Bunker days” – but some times, I have to admit, I have a hard time navigating in the world of PC. I’m not talking about “personal computer,” I am talking about “politically correct!”

I find that the more I try to NOT hurt someone’s feelings, the more I feel like I am wearing a muzzle, or have myself on PC patrol! I think, and re-think what I am going to say, and auto-edit myself before I speak. It feels so unnatural and stilted! I think it is even worse when trying to communicate by email when so much is open to interpretation. People tend to read into your meaning, or read your message assuming one thing, even if it couldn’t be further from your intent. I feel like I am walking on ever-present cobblestones made of egg shells!! Is it just ME, or are people getting more and more hyper-sensitive these days?

I am not an insensitive person. Quite the opposite. Being of the Libra persuasion, I go out of my way to try to see things from all sides, and I am the first to stand up and shout if I see injustice of any kind. I have gone to bat for the underdog many times in my life, and have never regretted it. So you can imagine how frustrating it can be for this Doll when in the interest of political correctness – things often times get lost in translation!

Is it just me?? More and more I witness various groups of people who are SO set on pushing their agenda, and being so aggressive and loud about it – and, at times, waiting to pounce on anyone who dares to debate them, or God forbid – disagree with their platform, that they miss the opportunity to have a decent conversation with someone who might actually want to hear more. Their message gets lost because they are no longer listening, they are talking OVER the other person. It’s at that point I would just love to say, “Do you really want to have a chat about this, or are you too busy enjoying the sound of your own voice?” But, that wouldn’t be very PC of me now would it?

All That Glitters January 21, 2012

All who know this Doll are well aware of the fact that I am a major fan of the glitter!! I dig the shimmer, the shine, the sparkle, the glam glam, and the diamond dust.

As a matter of fact, to start out the new year, I got outfitted with a new set of glittery nails. I was in the middle of showing them off to a cohort at work, when in walks “Miss Clarissa Potter” (her blog tag) from the operator room and proceeds to give me the most amazing mind fuck this Doll has had in AGES!!! She announces, “Glitter is the herpes of the arts and crafts world!!” Think about it…once you touch it/use it, you cannot get that shit off of you!! Tie a glittery blow on a package, and you wind up finding glitter adhering to your scalp like a WEEK later!!

My fixation on all things glittery doesn’t stop at just the sparkle content. I am obsessed with Hollywood glitterati!! In fact, my son found this definition on one of those words calendars over 6 years ago, and posted it on my frig!! For those who don’t know, glitterati is wealthy or famous people whose lifestyle is usually expensive (hello??) and well-publicized: celebrities. AND – celebrities have their own element of glitter herpes…paparazzi!!! Hmmm…coincidence?? I think not!! Perhaps Miss Potter knows what the heck she’s talking about after all!

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Revolving Doors November 20, 2011

I’ve been having the same conversation with Mrs. Kissinger for the past few weeks, and how poetic is this?  It revolves around revolving doors!  We have both been feeling like our days have turned into a series of  revolving doors.  Every day we get up, we push open the door of our bedrooms, and the cycle begins.  To quote Yogi Berra, “It’s like deja vu’ all over again.”  Nothing ever changes, nothing of significance happens.   We no sooner go out through the door of our office, and like magic…with one more push, we are right back in there, right back in our chairs like we never left at all!!

When I was contemplating how I was going to write this piece, I originally thought of doing a blog about how to get my joie de vive to stop taking a dirt nap in the moth balls.  But then….something did happen.  A classmate of mine passed away.  And how apropos, like a revolving door, she and I had been coming and going in and out of each other’s lives for years.

We reconnected a couple of years ago on FB, and had a delightful lunch date that lasted almost until dinner time.  We talked on the phone a few more times, and made promises to make plans soon…they never seemed to get on the calendar.  Then this past August, I attended a mini reunion that is an annual celebration for multiple graduating classes from my high school.  I was standing above the crowd taking pictures, when the sea of bodies parted, and there she was, looking right up at me with a huge smile on her face.

I hopped down from my picture-taking crows nest, and gave her a big hug.  We spent the next 30 – 40 minutes chatting like we had just seen each other last week, and were planning our next lunch date.  She posed for some pictures, told me a great story about a boy we went to high school with that she had a mad crush on back in the day.  She told me that she had just seen him, and confessed that it was SHE who had made a habit of stuffing his locker with love notes!  Ah, isn’t it wonderful what maturity and 30 years post high school angst can do for one’s self worth?  I LOVE that she didn’t give a shit what he thought about what she had done.  She just spilled it, like being in a confessional!  How cleansing!   I wish we had gotten to have that lunch date before she passed….but sadly, that door closed before we had a chance.

I’ll be honest, at times I can procrastinate in my personal life.  I am selfish with my time, and I tend to stick close to home, perhaps a bit too much.  I could blame it on my chronic pain, or needing to be home for the dog – both are true points, but it keeps me in the same revolving door routine.

I am not calling it a “resolution,” because, as you know – I don’t make resolutions, but I am going to attempt to put myself “out there” a bit more…accept more invitations.  And it starts tomorrow, I’m having coffee with an old friend – and I am REALLY looking forward to it!

Dance Of The Dragon Fly September 14, 2011

I was out in the gardens this morning just before the sun fully crested the new day sky, and as I was looking over my dahlia blooms, I noticed a dragon-fly flitting between my yard, and the yard next to mine.

It was an interesting dance – somewhere between an odd Tai Chi, and a frenzied Lord of The Dance.  It would slow down to the point where it looked suspended in animation, and then just when I thought it was about ready to drop out of the sky, it would zoom past my head so fast it about blew me a new hairdo!  It reminded me of my daily dance of life, although, I must admit, the Dragon fly made it look a heck of a lot more graceful than I feel most of the time.

Do you ever feel like you need a new pair of dance shoes?  I adore dancing, although, I rarely ever get a chance to go and actually dance – except in my jammies in my bedroom while making the bed – does that even count??  I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I have been married to TBG for almost fifteen years, and I have never danced with him!!  Not that I haven’t wanted to, or suggested it, or tried to coax…he’s just not a dancer.  I’m not saying I’m looking for a new dance partner, I just don’t want to forget how to dance, or even how to keep time to the music.

The Dragon fly also reminded me of how much I enjoy when the tempo is slower.  Oh sure, we all loved when the beat changed from clingy slow dance to crazy head-banging mania in the song “Free Bird” at those school dances.  But let’s face it, the slow dance was easier, and the haunting chords on the various string instruments lulled you into a dreamy trance as you wrapped your arms around your dance partner, and floated along to the music.

I enjoy being busy, I love time lines, deadlines, and full schedules.  But, truth be told….more and more, I enjoy when the lights dim, and the announcer says over the loud-speaker that it is time for “the slow skate,” so grab your special someone, and hit the ice.  Ok, so not a great analogy….I mean – when was the last time you saw a dragon-fly in an ice rink??  So who cares!  My point is, if you didn’t get it by now….listen to your inner DJ, and dance to your own tune, or at least listen when your body and mind need you to put on a slow tune.   

 

It’s Electric July 7, 2011

It’s electric.  At one time in my life, those words meant a whole lot of drunk people were heading out onto the dance floor to make complete asses of themselves….not any more.  No, The Doll is not talking about her high voltage smile, and it’s not my ability to zap people with my witty one liners either…nor my fully charged personality…I wish.  No, dear flock, what the Doll is referring to, is my chronic nerve pain.

Even with my mind befuddled with Lyrica, I must admit, that not a day goes by that I am not in the middle of a full-blown electrical storm.   How ironical that being so full of electrical current can literally zap a person of every bit of their energy.

It is so difficult sometimes to explain to others what my life is like having to feel like this all the time.   Chronic pain means always having to say “I’m sorry.”  I’m sorry I’m late, I’m sorry I can’t be there, I’m sorry my brain is really fuzzy today, I’m sorry – I didn’t sleep again last night, I’m sorry my hands are clumsy today, I’m sorry my speech stutters today, I’m sorry you have to put up with me, and most of all, I’m sorry I’m not the way I use to be.

I use to be electrifying.  I use to be the first on the dance floor, and the last to leave a party .  I use to have endless energy, an imagination that knew no boundaries, and I was filled with not-stop peals of laughter like a rolling thunder in a lightning storm.

  I see my surgeon again this week.  I fear the two remaining bulging disks in my neck are now to the point where we have to do something.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry to have to go through this again, I’m sorry to put my friends and family through this again.  I much prefer ignoring the obvious, laughing through the pain, and pretending that it will all look brighter in the morning as I once again try to wake my brain from my Lyrica induced fog.

Perhaps, if we figure out how to finally fix me, The Doll will one day be able to do the other electric…..”Are you coming with me?  Let me take you on a party ride…..” 

Memory Lane July 4, 2011

Say what you will about the various social networks that abound now a days, but I for one am very grateful for the many folks that I have re-connected with because of being a rabid fan of FB.

Recently, my seemingly endless online hours have allowed me to take the best trip down memory lane!  I met up with a bunch of people I went to summer camp with – ain’t modern-day technology grand?  It is rare that you have a group of people outside of your immediate family that share the same childhood memories.

For the last several weeks, we’ve been posting different memories we have of the wonderful summers we spent together at Brandywine Camp, a Y camp we attended many moons ago, just outside of Philadelphia.

Some things I was perfectly fine posting in a general forum, other things are a little more mortifying, and are best left to be shared with my flock. And although it may come off in a negative tone, I am really not complaining…weird shit always happens to me, and I love sharing the stories with you.

There was the time that a girl named Becky and I were given the “Biggest Flirt” award at the post-trip award ceremony.  Mind you, this was given to us in front of the entire camp population, and then one of the counselors further humiliated me by doing a dead-on impersonation of me!!  

There was another horrifying moment while spelunking in a cave in West Virginia.  I was attempting to exit the cave, and since it was in a hole in the ground, and the entrance ladder only went down so far, we were forced to have to be tied in with a rope and someone above us was in charge of either lowering you when you went in, or pulling you when you went up….are you following me so far?  So, there I was in all my wonderful “Dollness” covered in mud, and trying to grasp the cold metal wrung of this blasted ladder, when all of a sudden I heard screeching, and all these bats started flying into my helmet!  I was so startled I completely lost my grip – a fairly easy thing to do, since as I said - I was covered in MUD!!!  I ended up snapping three fingers backwards, and had to finish climbing up the ladder using my elbow instead of my hand.

Then there was the trip that for me will live on in infamy!!  The canoe trip from Hell!!  Normally, I would choose either back packing, or spelunking for my camp trip.  But something told me to reach beyond my comfort zone this time around, so I chose canoeing.  I don’t know what the hell possessed me…perhaps I had visions of slathering Bain de Sole on myself, and spending a week on the water, and coming back to camp all bronzed and freckled.  What actually happened, was that it rained the entire time, so I sat in a wet bathing suit in that fucking canoe for a week!  Oh, and let’s not forget the sneaking into a farmers corn field to pitch our tents one night, and being woken up to the sound of a cow peeing on my tent - lovely!  But the cherry on top of that week-long sundae, was the horrendous case of impetigo all over my booty, and down the backs of my legs.  It had started just where the wet suit touched most of the time…then quickly spread south….the doctor who treated me after I had to moon him said it was the worst case of impetigo he had ever seen.  Ah, yes, ever the overachiever!

What service light is coming up on your dashboard? March 2, 2010

Last week I started on a new journey.  I had decided about a week before to stop ignoring the constant physical pain my body has been in for over 3 years.  I had a neck injury that caused two disks in my neck to herniate which in turn compressed my spinal cord and the nerves that control your upper extremities.    Although a surgeon removed the blown vertebra, and my neck was outfitted with a nifty two level cadaver bone graft – complete with screws and a titanium plate…it was no palatial condo in Palm Springs.

The first service light came on 6 weeks post op.  Although I had been warned there might be “some tingling” when the nerves started to wake up from being compressed, nothing could have ever prepared me for the lightning storm that began to run up and down the nerve paths of  my upper extremities.  The pain would start on either side of my neck, down through my traps, run across to my shoulder, and then start zapping its way down my arm not stopping until in had reached my finger tips.  Sometimes the storm would only batter my right side.  Hour after hour the lightning bolts would attack me…just as it would start to subside, the lightning would act like it had just caught a ride with a kite fashioned with a key, and jump over to the other side – I seriously feared for my sanity.  Now I understood why nerve gas is used in war.  Nerve pain is seriously the most painful, and most difficult type of pain to treat.

Being the ever so compliant patient, I took copious notes of when the storms hit, what body parts were effected, and how they made me feel.  I brought said notebook with me to my surgeon’s office with the hope it would aid in a proper diagnosis and provide a positive treatment plan.  My thoughtful gift was met with a prescription pad being pulled from a crisply pressed lab coat pocket, a click of a shiny pen being scribbled across the official looking paper, and a brief clipped statement that nerve pain was difficult to treat, so take this medication, get some massage therapy, and learn to relax.  Relax….did I hear that right???  RELAX??!!  You try to %$#&*@ relax when you have lightning bolts zapping your body 24 f-ing hours a day!!  needless to say, I never went back.  But I didn’t know I had options.

The second service light came on about 2 weeks after I started the Lyrica – the nerve pain medication I had been given to help with the zapping.  My body was trying to tell me, “this is not working for me” – but I couldn’t hear it because the Lyrica left me feeling stoned, stupid, and spaced out.  It made my hands, ankles and face swell, made me gain weight, and effected my speach…but it kept the zaps down.

Fast forward (come on keep up, I know I talk fast, but I have limited space here!!)  to last week, when I had my first visit with my acupuncturist.  I had been hearing for a while now that acupuncture works very well in treating nerve pain by opening up the meridians, and allowing your blood and Qi (pronounced chee) to flow through.  I could actually feel those channels open up as I lay there on the table with needles sticking out the top of my head, down my left arm, and on the tops of my feet and ankles.

I was still on high beam thinking about the whole positive experience, and was just pulling up in front of my house when I looked down and noticed that my “check engine coolant light” had come on.  All I can say is – somebody up there’s got a sick sense of humor, and this Doll is not amused!!

What is on your heart’s MP3 player? March 3, 2010

At the risk of losing what small group of loyal readers I have, and being pummeled with virtual tomatoes, I will admit that sometimes just hearing a song, any song performed by Barry Manilow will make my heart sing back up!!  My Big Guy has an endearing nick name for ol’ Barry – “Barely  Man Enough!”  Oh sure people like to poke fun at ol’ Barely - but I would like to see even the most ardent Manilow mocker (And you know who you are!)   keep from singing along when Copacabana  is streaming over the airwaves!   Hey – deny all you want sweet pea, but who do you think swept up all the feathers from your boa the last time you indulged in a Barryfest?? 

Music can energize us, transport us, wake us in the morning, and send us off to slumberland at bedtime.  But have you ever thought of music in terms of healing us?   I know an ICU nurse who has incorporated music therapy into traditional patient care in the ICU where she works.  She has found that her patients are more calm, need less pain medication and vital signs are more stable when a radio is playing in their room, or over the intercom.

If music can sooth a crying baby, and tame the wild beast, imagine what it can do as far as easing the tension between your shoulder blades?  Who needs Botox when you have Barry to unfurrow your tightly knitted brow?  Planning on having Calgon take you away?  Add a couple of bars of Barry and soak away the cares and strain of the day.

Need a recipe for respite?  Put cracked ice in a cocktail shaker, add some Barely White, shake – and pour into a nicely chilled martini glass.  Now sit back, and drink in one smooth dude!

Let Laughter lift you up March 4, 2010

People have asked me many times over the years, how on earth do you keep going?  My usual response is, “I kept pulling the cord, but the bus driver was busy texting , and wouldn’t stop so I couldn’t get off the damn bus!”   Each time life has kicked me in the guts, I had a choice.  I could either curl up in a ball in the corner and cry, or I could stand up, laugh in the face of adversity, and say, “Seriously??!!  Is that the best you got??  I got news for ya buddy – you hit like a girl!!!

If I weren’t laughing, I’d be crying – and my baby blues certainly look a lot better with some well-earned laugh lines framing them than all swollen, bloodshot, and sad.   My secret weapon in the fight against life’s cruel jokes and misdemeanors?  I was truly blessed with a sick and twisted sense of humor, and a slick, sardonic and slightly skewed view of my world around me.  There will be a contest at the end of this post to see who among you can read that last sentence out loud – you have been warned.

Every day, each of us starts out with a level playing field, and the same amount of time on the clock.  As soon as the alarm clock rings, a starter’s gun goes off, and you find yourself in huge game of dodge ball.  If you can’t loosen up, and find something to laugh at, you are gonna freeze, and then BLAMMO!!!  You get hit in the head with the ball of life.

I work for a large Cardiology practice in their business office, and for the past five months we have been short-staffed, and things have been pretty darn stressful.  If it were not for my cohort and partner in cackle, Mrs. Kissinger, I would have held up the white flag ages ago!!    Mrs. Kissinger is the perfect blend of prim Catholic school girl, and naughty public school prankster!   Her strict upbringing prevents her from diving in all the way, but she will always encourage you to do the biggest swan dive/belly flop off the high dive, all the while cheering you on from her safe haven tucked away in the back pew!  Kiss, kiss, love ya – mean it - Mrs. K!

Okay – Mrs. K is busy on the phone with Jyvonne getting a procedure preauthorized, and Blardine has had me on hold for the last 15 minutes making me pay because I asked her to spell her name for me, so – anyone wanting to participate in the read aloud contest , please help yourself to the Jello shooters and saltines.  Let the games begin!  Just remember…..there’s no crying in dodge ball!!

Don’t let the door hit ya…. March 5, 2010

Anyone who has ever owned a cat, or been the parent of a toddler knows that neither are big fans of the closed-door.  My children are grown, but I can tell you my cats can all be piled up sound asleep together, and I will go into the bathroom and shut the door, and the next thing I see is all three of them sticking their little paws under the door trying to pull it open!   What on earth do they think they are missing?

Let me see a show of hands of all those who have been in a stall in a public rest room, and suddenly you find yourself staring into the face of a little person who is in the stall next to yours with his mother.  Um….AWKWARD!!!!  I just want to ping the little cherub on the head with the tip of my pointy mule – but my compromising pants around the ankles posture prevents me from hitting my mark.

What is it about a closed-door that is so seductively irresistable?  Is it remembrances of childhood searches for hidden presents?  Is it idle curiosity?  Are you expecting Bob Barker to meet you in the hallway with his mic, and announce, “Paul tell her what fine prizes we have hidden behind these doors today….”  Or is it simply that not knowing is not acceptable.  Some people hate surprises – I get that!!  I have had far too many unpleasant surprises, so when someone wants to actually surprise me, I find myself either flinching, or stiffening waiting for the blow. 

At work, whenever Mrs. Kissinger and I try to close our office door to have a mini meeting, shut out the hallway noise, or simply try to have some uninterrupted work time , it is as if we have hung a shingle outside that door inviting any and all to enter!!!  Uh - hellooooooo?????  And yet when the door stays open, the traffic significantly subsides! 

Some doors are meant to stay shut.  Those are the ones we walk out of for the last time, and shut with a firm finality – knowing there is nothing good for us behind them.  Some doors beckon us to take another peek for old times sake, and some are just revolving around us.

What kind of doors are you standing outside of?  When your hand is resting on the knob, will you grasp it firmly and walk across that threshold with a purposeful stride, or will you pull your hand back and sheepishly tell Bob you’ve changed your mind, and go for what’s behind the curtain instead?

When the going gets tough March 6, 2010

Some days, life hands you spit balls.  Not lemons…SPIT BALLS.   I don’t go for the Pollyanna prose – so I won’t tell you to build yourself a nice spit ball stand and make spit ball-aide or anything of that nature.  Beside the fact that I don’t think it will garner you any cash money for your efforts, I just have a really big aversion to spit.

We are going through a transition time at Sumtimes.  (My make-believe name for my work place, as I would really like to continue to work there)  That being said, it generally goes without saying that change is tough.  Regardless of whether the outcome of change will be a good thing, better thing, happier thing – people have a difficult time with change.  It ruffles feathers, causes stress, makes people uncomfortable, causes tempers to overflow, and when that happens – people get blown a new hairdo, and spit balls get to flying.

Thank GOD for Mrs. Kissinger.  (Heaven opens up, cue choir of angels to sing)  Now, before I go on – I promised Mrs. K that she would not be type-casted in my stories, so please – for her sake don’t think of a Nun when you try to picture her!  Anyway…it is really good to have something  that remains steady, stalwart, supportive, and above all else…silly – when the spit balls of life start flying. 

I was standing there, with my usually perfectly coiffed hair in tatters, and spit balls sticking to every appendage, when Mrs. Kissinger interjected – “You know that wasn’t about you, right?”  Funny….that’s exactly what the person who had just blown me a new hairdo had said mid-blow.  “She was that way when she arrived here this morning, so something was on her mind before this happened.”  I guess I need to add a new “No spit balls zone” sign right there on the wall next to my “Don’t make me get the flying monkeys” sign!!

I decided to take a cue from Mrs. k, an avid campus hoofer, and take my ruffled sticky self out for a cleansing stroll around the grounds.  With each step, I let the soft gentle breeze dislodge each spit ball, and playfully tease my tresses back into the divine creation I had whipped it into that morning.  Towards the end of my constitutional, I found myself standing in front of the beautiful fountain we have at work.  I closed my eyes, lifted my face to the sky, and let the warmth of the March sun dry the last of the spittle off my face.

Change is hard, change is scary, and yes – change does sometimes involve dodging the occasional spit ball….it is up to us to change the way we would normally respond.

Why can’t we just ‘Talk amongst ya selves?’ March 7, 2010

Today started out weird.  I am by my very nature a night owl.  The fact that my Lyrica medication I take for nerve pain makes me a perpetual fogged over mess in the morning only hinders me being a “morning person” any time soon.  It is also a fact that I am married to the worst type of morning person known to man – or woman kind for that matter…the “talkative” and “cheerful.”  ***Author’s note:  My husband does not read this blog, nor does he know how to even turn on a computer, so the only way he will know he was mentioned in it is if you tell him…..and you have now been warned!!

But, I digress….as usual.  Now – where was I???  Oh yes!   *&##@%^&* Lyrica!!!  So – not being of the “morning person” persuasion, it is highly unusual for this doll to roll out of the rack and be coherent, be able to speak….and be cheerful before 9:00 on a Sunday morning – but that is exactly what I intended to do when my alarm roused me rudely from my medication laced slumber.

Mr. Morning glory was not his cheerful self.  He barely even said good morning.  He of course was already showered, fully caffeine loaded, and in his plucky golf attire.  I had plans too – my reason for rising early so I could spend a bit of time with the Big Guy before having lunch with a new girl friend.  It is times like this that every title of every book about communication, men and women being from either Venus or Mars, differences between cats dogs and every other mammal, and several Dr. Phil and Maury Povich episodes start running a marathon in my head.  When you are just starting a relationship, it seems like you never run out of things to say.  When you get several years – or decades under your marital belt, suddenly everybody seems to get verklempt, and we’re looking around for Linda Richman to give us a topic so we can “talk amongst ya selves” on her coffee talk show.

I just had lunch today with someone I had never before laid eyes on.  And never once was there a lull in conversation, a moment when she didn’t have my full attention, and not once did the word “awkward” enter my thoughts. Hmmmm….I think I just discovered what my next topic is going to be when me and the Big Guy have our coffee talk!!  Excuse me….oh, um…talk amongst ya selves.

Going down kicking and screaming March 10, 2010

I’m worried.  And now, because worry can etch horrible worry lines on your face, and age you before your time, I have another thing to worry about.

Thanks to Mrs. Kissinger’s almost daily comments alluding to the fact that the 50′s are the cruelest decade, both for men and women, and the brutal effects those 10 years can have on ones looks and body, I suddenly find myself at the top of a huge hill strapped onto a well waxed luge, and being tipped over the down side of the 40′s.  It is not a fun place to be, trust me on this!

When I make it to the door of the 50′s decade, this is what I have to look forward to:  my midsection will expand overnight, my skin on my face will lose its grip and suddenly, with no warning, start to descend - essentially sliding off of its foundation and hover in a jowly mass around my now invisable jaw line.  And don’t even get me started on the tits and ass situation!!  It’s gonna take more than a dash of silicone to make those “fine” ever again!

Guys – listen up because the Doll is here to tell you that you are not in for any walk in the park in your fifties either.  It wouldn’t be fair, or responsible to let you enter that house of horrors decade without giving you a glimpse of what is in store for you once you make it to the room of mirrors.  Suddenly every hair that use to occupy your nappy little head will fall off of said head, and plant itself onto your back, shoulders and arms.  Your chest will fall, and run right into your waist line, and your ass will catch that forward pass and promptly deflate, making your days in form-fitting Levi’s a distant boyhood memory!!     Oh – and fellas…the fifties is also the decade where every extra beer, chili dog, Quarter Pounder with extra cheese, and large meat lovers pizza decides to come back to haunt you in the form of (trumpet fanfare, please) heart disease.  Chances are you will suffer your first round of angina, prompting a nuclear myocardial perfusion study, followed by a delightful ride on a gurney to the illustrious cath lab for a spiffy angioplasty complete with stents to keep those pesky arteries open.  It is after this heart hay-ride that you will contemplate your first discussion with your cardiologist about “male enhancements.”

Hey – looking back it would appear that the men’s luge team is wayyyyyy ahead of the ladies.  Thank God I started using eye cream in my late 20′s!!!  I think I will shake my maracas in celebration while they are still above my knees, and consider it a stroke of good luck that there is a cosmetic surgeon’s office right down stairs from mine.   I can feel the tension draining from my face as we speak.

Insurance-Speak 101 March 13, 2010

The Doll has decided to deviate from my normal blog topics in order to give my readers some desperately needed lessons not only in understanding insurance language, but more importantly, the proper etiquette to engage in when navigating your way through all the blather.  I have been both an insurance claim specialist, and a coder/biller for a large cardiology practice, and have witnessed and dealt with situations on both sides of the insurance billing mayhem – I have also been a patient, more times than I would like to count, and have always been thankful that I know the ins and outs of insurance speak.  

Now, before I go on, I am not writing this to get bombarded with hate mail regarding healthcare reform.  Think of it more as a public service announcement on how to deal with the insurance labyrinth we are traipsing around in now.

After the horrid week I have just endured, it has become blatantly obvious that most people don’t have a clue about how their insurance is designed to work, what their benefits are, what their obligations are, and what they should do before they even sign up for their insurance plan.

Rule number one:  the time to ask questions about your proposed insurance plan is before you sign the contract, and pay your first premium payment.  Make NO mistake folks – it IS a contract between you and your insurance.  Would you buy a house without reading the fine print?  No…I didn’t think so…so don’t sign the contract and then claim ignorance when the claim submitted for that mani/pedi you turned in as podiatry services gets denied!!

When you go to see the doctor, chances are you will be asked to present your insurance card – every*single*time!!!  Let me explain.  The folks at the front desk are responsible for capturing the billing information for the office coder/biller.  Because insurance companies have their open enrollment periods at different times of the  year, insurance information can change any time of the year.  If your insurance changed since the last time you were seen, and they don’t know that, guess what happens?  Your claim gets billed to the wrong insurance company, who denies your services because your plan has termed, and YOU make a pissed off phone call to your provider’s office that starts out something like this, “You PEOPLE billed the wrong insurance company for my visit with Dr. Schnauzer, can’t you people get anything right???”  Now – if folks didn’t bitch and moan at the front desk staff for having to pull out their insurance card when they checked in for their appointment, OR out right refuse to produce said card – things might go a little smoother.  Which brings me to my first etiquette lesson:  Just because you chose to have services at a particular provider’s office doesn’t mean you get to make the rules, break the rules, or otherwise be a pain in the pants!!  If your insurance company says you must pay a co-pay when you see your doctor, then you are contractually obligated to do so!!!  So please – come prepared to pay it.  Do not tell the front desk that you won’t until you get a bill – you are in violation of your insurance contract if you do.   

Rule number two:  Know your benefits.  Period.  And if you don’t know them, read your benefit booklet or call your insurance company.  Your provider bills your insurance company as a courtesy, and will get procedures preauthorized for you BUT – knowing your benefits is ultimately your responsiblity.   This brings The Doll to etiquette lesson number two:  it is generally poor taste to sign up for a HMO, and think it is well with in your rights not to use the doctors within that HMO, but rather show up at a specialist’s office outside of your network, and then throw a fit when they refuse to see you with out a referral.

Rule number three:  The explanation of benefits.  The explanation of benefits or “claims summary notice” is just that.  It is a break down of how your insurance company applied your benefits contract to the services you had performed in the doctor’s office.  This is not a bill from your insurance company!!!!  I cannot stress this point enough.  Usually the explanation of benefits, or EOB as it is also known, states right at the top of the page, “This is not a bill.”  It will show you the billed charge, this is the amount you doctor billed out, the allowed amount for that charge – this is the amount allowed by your insurance company – the PPO adjustment, PPO is short for “preferred provider organization,” this is if your doctor is in the network, in which case they must write off the difference between the billed amount and the allowed amount of the charge – it is not billed back to you…….and lastly – your responsibility.  The part you are responsible for - depending on your contractual agreement with your insurance – may just be your co-pay, or it will show your co-pay amount plus your 10 or 20% of the allowed amount.  If you don’t know what % you are supposed to pay, or if the doctor you are about to see is in your insurance network….see rule #2!!!!   Which brings me to etiquette lessons three and four!!  When you get your EOB, if you see that your responsiblity is just your co-pay, and you paid it at the time of service – which, if you look back on rule #1 you SHOULD have…do not, I repeat, DO NOT call your doctor’s office and start out the conversation by saying this, “I just received a BILL (see rule #3) from my insurance company, and it says I owe them $20 for my visit with Dr. Daylily - I PAID my copay when I was there, can’t YOU PEOPLE get anything right????!!!!  Your insurance company isn’t saying you didn’t pay it.  We don’t send them proof of your receipt when we submit your bill – you are just getting a summary of benefits – so CHILLAXE and don’t make a phone call that will not only ruffle the feathers of whoever gets that pissy call on their phone, it will ultimately cause you undue embarrassment because you chewed out someone, and sounded stupid at the same time.  In then end, if you have a question about whether a claim was processed correctly, or if something is covered under your plan – the first call to make is to your INSURANCE company – NOT the doctor’s office.     

If you are wondering why I chose to share this public service announcement, I will leave you with this recap of a conversation I had with a patient first thing this morning.  Patient:  “Hi this is Mr. Warbitts, and I just got this letter from my insurance company telling me that they don’t normally cover all or part of a SPECT scan unless it is medically necessary.  Isn’t that what I just had last week???”  Me:  “Yes, that is the test you just had last week, and I can tell you we called for, and did obtain a  pre-authorization before performing that test – I am looking at the authorization number right now.”  Patient:  “Well, then what is this letter about??”  Me:  “It is a disclaimer.  An insurance company covers themselves by telling you that this procedure will be looked at for medical necessity once it is received before applying your benefits to the charge.”  Patient:  “Oh – I thought this was telling me it wasn’t going to pay for it, and I was going to call them up and chew someone’s ass out.  (see rule #2)  So what should I do with this letter??”  Me:  “You can just set it aside, and staple it to your EOB once they process your claim.”  Patient:  “Oh – but i really wanted to yell at someone there!!”  Me:  “Hmmm, well now, let’s think about this…the person you will reach is not the person who wrote the letter, and will have no idea what you are talking about.  And an insurance company will NEVER tell you it will absolutely pay for something, they always will give you the disclaimer.  So while it might make YOU feel real good yelling at someone, the person receiving that call is going to be feeling pretty crummy by the time you finish ranting at them for no reason…..so – is that really necessary??”  Patient:  “Oh…well….you changed my mind!!  Ok I think we’re all good then, bye!”

*SIGH*  This has been a public service announcement from The Doll’s Nerve-wreaking broadcasting systems……

Ice cold and Crabby March 14, 2010

Thanks for allowing me to take a moment to vent yesterday, and I hope no one felt that the Doll was spilling drama all over them, and that everyone left the experience with their hair in its original state of loveliness.

On my continued path to pain-free living, I had my fourth visit with my acupuncturist.  Our mutual goal first and foremost is to get me to a point in my pain treatment where I can greatly reduce my dosage of Lyrica, and maybe even get off the mind numbing stuff for good.

The weather here in the PNW has taken on a rather nasty arctic chill, and cold air and nerve pain go together like an ice bath and a man’s favorite appendage!!!  Every muscle in my hands contract, and the nerves start firing off blazing hot zingers like a Tommy gun going after Bonnie and Clyde.

So – looking for any little morsel of badly needed relief, I sought refuge in the safe haven of my nail spa.  I settled in with a fab mag regaling me with infinite descriptions of local speak easy joints where one can find classic cocktails and noshes while putting the brakes on the foo- foo and fruity.  My nail bliss turned to zowie owie when I realized that being seated next to a drafty window, and next to the door was causing a chill to run through my body.

Not wanting to make a big deal, I decided things would be better when it came time to wash my hands after the nail fill was complete.  I focussed my thoughts on the delicious feeling of warm water cascading over my aching thumbs and screaming wrists.  When instructed, I nearly sprinted to the sink – where, to my eternal dismay, I realized I could not get the water to heat up!!  I ended up back at the table with my hands looking like contracted feet of a departed sparrow!!!

I then was treated to the most heavenly hand massage.  My nail tech expertly worked my aching hand muscles like a baker kneading bread dough – things were looking up!!  I was starting to relax again when after the last of the top coat was applied, I peered over the top of my mag to see my nail gal was flipping the switch on and aiming the dreaded fan on my just thawed digits.

Just when I thought all hope was lost, the owner came over to check out what color I had chosen.  She carefully picked up one of my frozen paws, and thankfully was mortified to find my hands feeling more like something you would find in a morgue!  She brought over the equivalent of a ‘easy bake oven’ for nail drying, and placed my  hands inside.  I sat there drinking up the heated air being pumped out all over my frozen pops and for a brief moment I had a vision of my hands being in a hot air corn popper.

Ten minutes later, I was home and helping the Big Guy prepare dinner.  Salad, Italian bread toasted to a dreamy golden brown, and cold, cracked crab.  I only made it through 3 Dungeness legs when the aching became so intolerable that I briefly fantasized about dunking my fingers into the little bowl of hot drawn butter.  Sitting there, watching the Big Guy effortlessly cracking away and tossing the empty shells into the waste bowl, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of anger towards him, for not offering to assist me in cracking open my dinner.  People who do not live with chronic pain take every day tasks  for granted.  They wake up every morning, and don’t give a second thought to lifting that coffee mug, or picking up a fork and having it deliver the food to their mouths.  Their bodies just do what their brains tell them to.  I know I could have asked for assistance…but as mad as I was at him in that moment, I was more angry with my own short circuited nervous system, and having fought it for the last several hours I would be damned if I was going to effectively let my body bring me to my knees by making me admit that I needed help.  I left the dinner table feeling ice-cold and crabby…in more ways than one.

Restoration in process March 15, 2010

When I was going through 18 months of  physical rehab from my car accident some 12 years ago, I went through a particularly blue period.  I have been told many times by various professionals and pain sufferers alike that dealing with pain on a daily basis is not only physically draining, but it is also quite taxing on a person’s emotional health, and mental out-look.

It was during this time that a very savvy physical therapist suggested that I start a small garden as a way of adding some occupational therapy to my program.  I had never been all that interested in gardening, although my mother had always maintained not only a huge vegetable garden but additionally she tended to many lovely flower beds at every residence we had ever lived at.

I started small, in a sunny area of our yard that use to be used to put our grass clippings and other yard debris.  Little did I know that all those years of accumulated vegetation waste had all broken down, and in its place was the darkest, richest most fertile soil just waiting for someone to come along and enjoy all that it had to offer.   I found that not only was the soil soft and easy to dig in – a plus considering I had little in the way of  extra strength to spare – it also had little treasures hidden below its ebony surface!  Rocks!  Not annoying, throw to the side rocks, but good size rocks with interesting shapes and colors that  -  luckily for me – were not too heavy for me to lift, wash,and use to outline the area I was plotting out for my first attempt at growing anything in my yard.

In the 12 years since starting my garden therapy, I have – with the help of the Big Guy added 5 more gardens – each very different from the other, and two medium-sized dahlia patches which I lovingly tend.  Each summer I grow award-winning dahlias which I show at all the local dahlia competitions, and use to create arrangements and vase displays not only for those shows but for my work-place as well.

Yesterday morning I awoke still feeling a little grumpy from the night before when the pain from my hands had caused me such angst.  The Big Guy was itching to get my butt out in the yard with him to plant all the new little darlings that had arrived this past week from the nursery we had ordered them from.  To entice me, he had thoughtfully prepared a beautiful breakfast for me, and engaged in small talk about his thoughts on where to start planting while I sipped my coffee, and started my processed of shooing away my morning fog.  As I nibbled at my eggs, he was puttering around the kitchen organizing ingredients for the dinner he would later prepare for his folks.  As he was shuffling around in the fridge, he noticed the uneaten crab from last night, and lightly commented about my not finishing it.  I quietly replied that I was not able to crack it.  He said it had already been cracked.  I took a deep breath, and confessed that the temperature had caused me extreme pain just handling the crustacean.  And what did my beloved say next?  “Well why didn’t you speak up???  I would have cracked it all the way open for you!!!”  I tell ya – sometimes pride can really make you feel stupid in the long run!

We spent the next couple of hours enjoying the mild March afternoon planning, planting, and marveling in the transformation our yard has experienced over the years.  As I put the finishing touches on the climates I had been grooming and training up our trellis, I realized my mood had significantly lifted.  Gardening is funny that way.  A little snip here, a little addition of color there – instant gratification!!  Our health can be restored in much the same manner.  It doesn’t happen over-night…but I believe we are worth it.  We are all a restoration in process.

Who is running your program? March 17, 2010

Yesterday morning I attended a meeting to watch a presentation about a new billing program for our company.  This is the same company we used a couple of years ago to transition our doctors to electronic charts.  This time they were showing us how another component of the program is used to bill straight from how the doctor entered the charge.

As I sat there, I flashed back on the experience we had with this company in our clinic almost two years ago.  They brought a huge team in to train us.  At that time it was clear they had a script, they had learned their part, and they didn’t want to deviate from their script at all.  They didn’t bring any user-friendly “cheat sheets” so we would have something to reference once their time with us was over.  They would retreat from the room if we over-loaded them with questions, and they didn’t seem interested in fine-tuning their program when it became obvious that it wasn’t “user-friendly” when applied in a “go live” setting.  Several employees even over-heard many of the trainers talking about us in our break room!!!  They said, “These people just need to shut up, and let us train them.  This is the program, this is how it works, and they just need to stop bitching and learn it because it isn’t going to change for them!”

Oh really??  I’m sorry, I thought WE were the client!!!!  This is a huge company – we are not the first to use this product.  It was like they had a program, and they wanted US to use a cookie cutter to fit and conform our way of doing things to fit into their program, not tweak and fine tune their program so it was user-friendly and included the elements that we needed in order to do our jobs in an efficient manner.  So – here we were again….isn’t this SPECIAL????

Once again, the people doing the presentation were on a mission to roll out the product.  They passed out these approval sheets that we were supposed to check either Green for approve, Yellow for like but needs fine tuning, or Red for no way – this isn’t gonna fly.  Then we had to have a show of hands and supposedly go over each item that either were given a yellow or a red mark…which would essentially send these folks back to the drawing board.  Each time the crowd said “Stop, no, this isn’t going to fly, why can’t you program it to do this, or why can you keep that part but add that,” the presenters would look at us and say well this is how this is….or no one has ever used that part of the program, it just isn’t done.  HELLOOOO??  Are you folks NOT computer programmers, or at least have computer programmers on staff?  That’s the beauty of programs…you can re-program it to do what you need, or what you want.

Our lives and well-being are VERY much like this scenario.  How many times have you gone to a doctor, and they have a treatment plan all ready for you?  They aren’t interested in hearing any input from you, or tailoring some part of it so it is more “user-friendly” for you?  Even when you say “no” they seem hell-bent on pushing the product through because this is how it is, this is what I do for all my other patients, it’s a matter of you just needing to shut up and do this, and let me move on to the next exam room.  You have a right to check the box Red.  You have a right to be heard, and to have a say in how or what program you are going to be using in your life, or in your treatment plan for your health.  You have a voice, you have a say.  And, sometimes, saying “no” can be the biggest “yes” for you.

Attack of the toxic personages March 17, 2010

I read an interesting article recently about different types of friends, and the various levels of toxicity they can add to our lives.  The author listed out several categories that friends could fall under, and then challenged the reader to see if any of her friends fell into any of the categories.

Then came the interesting question:  If this person’s behavior has been  consistently rude, hurtful, selfish, self-serving, thoughtless, and  flakier than a crescent roll in a holiday bread basket – it is time to reassess the relationship. 

We have all heard the saying, “you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”  I know several people who for one reason or another have severed relationships with various family members because they deemed the person too toxic to have in their life.  But when it comes to their friends….the people they have “chosen” to have in their life, they haven’t been able to quite flush out the sewer line, and set these toxic personages afloat down the cesspool river.

Toxic relationships are harmful.  They break us down, depress us, fill us with doubt, and yet – because they are “friends” we put up with being treated poorly.

Do you have someone in your life that fits this description?  If so, what are you getting out of this relationship?  How would you feel if you could cut your losses, and set them afloat?  If the answer is I would be lost, I would really miss her, “how could you ask me to do that, bitch??”  Chances are, you are still getting something out of the friendship…although you didn’t need to call me a bitch!!  (Bitch!)  BUT – if the cons far out way the pros, I say it’s time to take a serious, soulful look at re-evaluating what it is you need, and if that person doesn’t fit the bill, time to start flushing baby!

Everyone could use a little “Kick ass” and “Cranky Mary” March 19, 2010

I am never one to mince words or pull punches, so I am just going to come right out and say it….today was a pretty fucked day.  And even though it may seem bizarre, or weird or stupid the tone was set when I heard on the news that Sandra Bullock’s husband had an affair.  I can’t explain the reaction.  It was totally irrational, as I don’t personally know Sandra Bullock, however; my first husband cheated on me, and Sandy is one of America’s sweethearts, how DARE JESSE do that to her????!!!! 

As I do every day when I arrive at the office, I quickly assessed the various tasks that needed my attention, and set about working each pressing item first, with the hope ( Ah, key word here is hope )  I could quickly get through them, and get to my main task which is entering/coding the office billing for the doctors in my clinic.   As I began working, I could feel it. It started in the pit of my stomach, and with each “to do” I attempted to do, the churning picked up speed until my anger and frustration threatened to become a tsunami of bile.  As I have alluded in previous posts, we are going through a period of transition in my office.  Each department has been under-staffed, over-worked, and fully reached saturation point in their stress level quite awhile ago.  What I have found is that as each department before mine became minus 1 or 2 people, more and more errors were made in the various things that they had a hand in before the finished product ended up in the business office for me to complete.  Crap does roll down hill, and I have been feeling like I need to be re-named the “Sanitation Senora of Sumtimes!”

Here is where my thoughts of Sandra’s situation, and my Sumtimes situation intersect.  Why can’t people just do what they are supposed to do?  Why do they think it is ok to veer off course or task leaving debris in their wake for others to have to clean up after them?  Why aren’t they held accountable?  And WHY – if their littering is brought to their attention does it seem that they either try to deflect the accusation, or they simply don’t care – and have come to expect that someone else will clean up the mess?

I went home feeling pretty crummy.  After dealing with one crummy situation after another every day this week, I was feeling like I needed to be thoroughly vacuumed!!  I couldn’t even seem to gather enthusiasm to go to my dahlia club’s annual member tuber sale.  The Big Guy had picked up dinner for us on his way home, knowing I would have a tight schedule because I had planned on going to the sale.  As I finished half of my dinner, he handed me a wad of cash, and encouraged me to go freshen up, and head on out – that things would feel better once I was there visiting with my dahlia buddies.

My dahlia club has a wildly fun cast of characters.  Two of my personal favorites are “Kick-ass” and “Cranky Mary.”  kick-ass got his name because shortly after his 70th birthday, he finally got the tattoo he had always craved.  A donkey on his upper shoulder kicking up his back legs – with the words “kick Ass” underneath the donkey.  Mary is one of the most colorful older gals I have ever had the distinct pleasure to have met.  She describes herself as “ornery, mean, cranky and cantankerous, and too old to change or care!”  She routinely shaves her head down to nub because she can’t stand having to take time to do her hair.  But, she has a heart of gold, and a sense of humor that I can relate to, and appreciate.

I arrived at the sale and was greeted warmly by other members – many I had not seen since the end of the show season last summer.  My mother in law was there as well, and the first thing she said was that old Kick-ass had been there earlier, and he had left me a gift of a hard to find water-lily type dahlia tuber.  He is a very thoughtful older gentleman who for the past three years since we met, has always given me a water-lily tuber (the only form he grows) that he says did well on the national level in the shows.  I was genuinely touched, and could feel myself perk up a bit.  As I started putting tubers in my basket, I heard Mary talking behind me, and turned to greet her.  I asked her how she was, and she responded with her usual description which, for some reason really struck me as hilarious!!  I could feel the laughter come bubbling to the surface, and let it out with great abandoned.  I was then treated to one of “Cranky Mary’s” incredibly brilliant smiles in return.  And as I stood there, realizing I hadn’t had a really good laugh all day, I thanked her.   She may say she is “cranky” – but that doesn’t mean she lives up to that part of her.  I don’t want that to define me either.

When random meets mundane, magic can happen March 21, 2010

Like my Grandmother before me, I have never known a stranger.  I seem to be able to strike up a conversation with just about anyone I meet.  I use to just cringe when my sister and I would visit her in Kentucky during Summer break.  We would go to the grocery store with her, or the pool, or the store where she worked part-time, and before you could say “SHAZZAM” – someone would unknowingly make eye contact with her, or not, and she would launch into her reason for being there, introducing me and my sister to this complete stranger, and telling them why we were there with her, and generally having a grand old-time.  Little did I know that this recessive gene in my family tree was not only passed down to me, but was also being cultivated and fine-tuned at the time by my dear Gran.

People generally fall into two categories.  They like the mundane, they like to know their lives are sort of set, and what to expect each day.  Or, they go through life enjoying the sheer madness of allowing the universe to destin their path, regaling in each new adventure.  And, on occasion, you have people who need a little structure, but are open to the little “aha” moments the universe sends their way.

I would hazard a guess that I fall into the 3rd category I mentioned.  I do need some semblance of structure, I think without it, I may be too inclined to cart-wheel  blindly through life, and not get many tasks fully accomplished – although many interesting things would indeed be started in my lovely ADD existence!

I am on Face book, and I so enjoy the feeling of being connected, in some fashion, to friends and family near or far.  And in my many traveling conversations, I have met and “friended” some friends of friends, and carried on some of the liveliest conversations and missives with these total strangers if you will.  I never gave it a second thought that I wouldn’t have something in common, or be able to connect on some level with these fine folks.

I recently had lunch with a woman who I had met through a mutual friend on the network, and I couldn’t get over how delightful she was.  Even though we had been “talking” for months, seeing her face to face was such a magical moment, and a true testament to what can happen when we allow random to enter our mundane.   

Last night, I had the most magical “aha” moment yet since I have been part of Face book.  I received a friend request from a gal and I did not recognize the name, the face, or anyone on her friend list.  Puzzled, I sent her a private message asking what our connection might be – or if perhaps she had sent the message in error.  But I felt inclined to add at the end, “just because I may not know you, doesn’t mean I don’t want to!”  Within a couple of hours, she sent a message back stating that no, she didn’t know me, but I looked like an interesting person, and thought I would be a fun friend.  I found her response to be both endearing and soulful, and of course accepted her friend request.  If a person could reach out into the unknown, and be brave enough to enter such unchartered waters of personal contact, how could I not accept such a whimsy, random act of kindness?  Sometimes, when we open our mundane selves up, a little bit of random can stroll your way, and then magical things can happen.

Tell me about a totally random thing that the universe bestowed on you.

Where’s the score card? March 23, 2010

I have to admit it, I am hopelessly addicted to Dancing with the Stars.  I can’t help myself!  I have to watch every single show, start to finish throughout the whole season.

So it was that as my anticipation for the start of the new season was growing, I found myself having the most absurd thoughts.  What if the judges from DWS were just around the corner, watching your every move, and holding up that flippin’ score paddle at the end of every conversation, every argument, every day tasks at hand,  or (gasp) every sexual encounter ??!!  OMG!!  Can you even imagine what Bruno could do with that last example??  “Darling you have the hunting instincts of a cougar!! Your seduction skills are rivaled to none, although it did get a bit messy in the middle there, and the dismount was a bitter disappointment!!  I’ve got to hand it to you, for an amateur, you’ve got some fantastic bedroom moves!!  I give you a 7!!”   

There are so many situations in life where score cards come into play.  Credit ratings, report cards, spelling bees, poker games, performance reviews, driving tests, dog shows….the list is endless, but then – so are the number of possible outcomes.  

Then I started thinking about the personal score cards people keep.  Why is it so important to keep score?  Why is it so necessary to be right, to have the last word, to get in the last jab?   To not only have the last word, but to prove the other guy wrong?  And what about the people who feel like they were wronged years ago….but never got a chance to even the score.  Imagine what that can do to a person’s soul.

Life is short, life is fleeting.  Life, like a dance partner can be fickle.  Don’t waste precious time holding onto a grudge, waiting for the right moment to even the score.  If you can’t set it aside forever, at least set it aside for a while.  You can always go back and grab it when the mood strikes, or the music changes.  But for now, the paddles are down….dance like no one is watching, cause life is too short to sit this one out.

Is life just a game of clue? March 25, 2010

If you haven’t noticed yet, I get through a lot of stressful situations by either personally being the comic relief, or looking for the absurd, silly, idiotic things around me so that I have a reason to laugh!  Today (thankfully) was no exception.

I use to be an absolute karaoke bar whore!  That’s right, I said it.  This Doll use to make the rounds at all the best karaoke bars in town.  I knew who had the biggest selections, the high-end sound systems, and paid out the most cash money when they had contests.  I even remember the very first song I ever sang…..”Here you come again” by Dolly Parton.

We have had a new echo tech in our office for two months now, and her charges haven’t been dropping to paper correctly, which is causing me enormous stress because of all the extra time it takes to research where they are so I don’t miss billing them out in a timely manner.  As I was flipping through a butt load of paper today, realizing that once again month end was just around the corner – and I would be chasing down these damn charges AGAIN!!  Mrs. Kissinger laughed and said, “Those echoes are going to be the death of you!!”  I said, “I know!!  They are going to need to park some paddles outside our door cause these damn things are gonna give me a coronary!!   They didn’t drop right, so by month end she will see them in her schedule, and drop them again.  I’ll be seeing them again.  Then – in my head, I hear Dolly…”Here they come again…just when your about to make your goal without them…..”  One of my quirky little sayings I love to throw out when people are getting on my last raw nerve is, “Cop a clue, and buy a fucking vowel.”  In other words, if you don’t know, or you are clueless….ask.

In my life right now….if  life were like a game of Clue, you could sum it up like this:  “The Doll was done in by Miss Didi, in the Business Office with the echo charges.”   Get the paddles ready gang!  CLEAR!!!!

Scratching that itch March 29, 2010

Everybody has something, some little thing that drives them crazy they want it so bad.  Some people call it a habit, some people call it a monkey on their back, others still call it a nagging need.  Whatever the adjective, it all boils down to that itch, which – once it’s scratched…there just ain’t no going back. 

My little itch just happens to be….shoes.  Tall, short, flat, strappy, clog, mule, pointy, square-toed, open-toe, wedge,sling backed, platform, and booty – you name it – if it goes on my feet, I at least want to see it if not try it on and strut my stuff it them.  Usually, if I like a certain pair…I might just be tempted to get them in every color!

I was doing ok… I almost had the bug licked, or so I thought, until a little something called DSW came to town.  No – NOT DWS, “Dancing with the Stars”!!!  I am talking about that dirty little shoe addicts candy land!!  Designer Shoe World!!  You walk in…and as far as the eye can see….shoes!!!!  Everywhere I looked in every possible direction…in every POSSIBLE style….shoes.  I started itching….I felt like I was breaking out in hives the minute I stepped through the door.  If there had been a barrel of calamine lotion any where in sight, I would have dove in head first.  Somehow, I managed to get out of there with purchasing only 4 pairs!  I went home, and immediately had to take an oatmeal bath, vowing never to step foot in that den of iniquity EVER again!!!

I have only had one slip since that fateful day almost 2 years ago.   I walk around like a dry drunk satisfying my shoe addiction by window shopping online at all kinds of shoe websites…pouring over countless catalogues…I even covet the shoes of the models who aren’t modeling shoes!!

I guess it could be worse.  I could be broke and begging for shoe money on a street corner somewhere.  Or (horrors) I could be hobbled from years of wearing 5 inch heels – and only my fear of bunions keeps me from wearing the really hight ones!!  In AA, they say the first step is admitting you are powerless, and that your life has become unmanageable….so – here goes… “Hi my name is The Doll, and I am a hopeless shoe addict!”  (All together now…”Hi Doll”)

What is YOUR itch?  And, what do you do when you find yourself in an itchy situation.  To scratch, or not to scratch….that is the question.

Heart Songs March 31, 2010

I was driving Monday night to my acupuncture appointment, feeling a little blue, a little run down…when an old song came on the radio.  “More than yesterday”….I cranked the volume, and starting singing at the top of my lungs!  It made my heart sing as well, and my spirits just began to soar!

Had a great appointment…this practitioner really knows her stuff!!  Then, on the way home, I heard, “If you really love me” by Stevie Wonder, and again I had to turn the volume all the way up and sang along.

I have mentioned before in past blog posts how music can be such an important part of healing us both emotionally as well as physically, and I started wondering….what music really makes your heart sing???

 And, what is it specifically that does it for you?  Are there other things in life that make your heart just soar with music and lyrics?  There are times when I am doing things in the garden, or holding a baby, or talking with people that I can  feel a song bubbling up in my chest.

My kids often tease me because I can usually sing out a couple of phrases from a song that relates to whatever they just said…it use to just drive them crazy….must run in the family, because my granny was just the same way..and my mother!!

So today I ask you…what are your heart songs?

A room with a view…or – Stories from the big picture window April 1, 2010

Anyone in I.T. would be aghast if they knew that in my office at work, all of the computers are set up in front of the windows, so our backs are not only to the door, but also to each other.  I don’t know how they ever thought this would make a person more productive when you have to stop what you are doing and turn around every time someone comes into the room…but I digress.

What does make the day a little more interesting for me and the divine Mrs. Kissinger?  We have a wonderful view of the world outside because our windows overlook a very large parking area below us.  Over the past three years since we moved into our new building, we have become very familiar with the usual suspects who pass by our cozy nook in the corner of our second story suite.  We have even taken to naming them based on our observations of their behavior.  We have “short-stride” because this gal is very top-heavy, and tends to wear very high-heeled shoes which make her look like she is on the verge of tipping forward on her ample bosom as well as making me and Mrs. k cringe because she constantly walks as if her feet are killing her!!!  Hey – “short stride – invest in some flats girl!!  Your arches will thank you as you make your way across the parking lot for your smoke breaks!!

One lady that I see every day out my side of the windows I call “Running Pepsi lady.”  Every day this gal goes running Pell Mell past my window with her brief case in one hand, and a Pepsi in the other…then about 3:30 – 4:00 every afternoon she goes running back towards the entrance of my building to go to the pharmacy downstairs from me…and I swear she must sprint in, and grab and slap as she gets her afternoon fix because literally seconds later she is running past my window again with her afternoon Pepsi tightly gripped in her hand!

By far the most entertaining character we have had the privilege of seeing out our view finder was “naked guy!”  Yes – you read that right!!  This occurred about three years ago on a bright sunny afternoon right out in plain view of God, and thankfully me and Mrs. k!!!  Now, mind you, the area I am speaking of is generally very busy with LOTS of traffic moving through it at all times of the day both on foot and vehicle.  The timing was just right, all the stars were aligned for this to have happened.  There we were peacefully keying away, when all of a sudden I hear Mrs. Kissinger say, “Hmmm….that man has no clothes on…except for his white socks!!!”  My hand was poised above my keyboard mid-stroke (pun intended)  and I was up out of my chair like a bottle rocket to look out her window!  There was nothing!  I looked at her, and asked how many martinis she had at lunch.  She said, “I swear he was just here, he went around the corner!”  And just as she finished that sentence, there he was…creeping back around the side of the building with his hand covering his manhood!!  He walked back in front of the building across from ours, and started ummmm…pleasuring himself.  He would get in a couple of good strokes, and then would playfully dart in and out of the cars and trees lining the parking area.  There are also little fences with tall doors there on the backside of the doctor’s offices he was posing in front of, and they all connect one to another, so he was also going in and out of those doors, all the while pulling on his junk as he did so.  At one point, he was standing behind one of our doctors cars really going at it, and I was afraid he was going to leave a rather messy deposit right on top of the hood, so I ran two doors down to let Dr. Markowitz know about the situation at hand!  (yes, another pun)

I said, “Dr. Markowitz!!!  There is a naked dude outside in the parking lot!!!”  He popped up, looked out his window, and with one hand on the phone, he said, “Why, yes there is!!”  He immediately called the five-o rent a cops that are supposed to patrol the parking lot to alert them of the scene that was taking place on the grounds.  They didn’t even wait for a description…I guess they thought it should be fairly easy to spot a dude with no clothes on??

I ran back to my office, and looked back out the window just in time to see the naked guy get down on the side-walk, arch his back  like a trained porn star, and really started going to town in earnest with his business!!!  I was wearing very tall heels that day, and my hair also added about three inches to my height, and so it was that in mid-stroke, naked guy looked up, saw me and Mrs. K peering down on his exhibition, and he stood up, went behind one of the doors, and closed it.  Moments later, he emerged fully clothed, with a large back pack on his back, and walked away from the scene as calm and cool as can be.  Literally seconds later, we see the five-o drive by our window and go in the opposite direction of where he walked!!!  It was straight out of the Keystone Cops – I swear to God!!!  Now, I ask you….what kind of a person decides, “Hey – I have some time to kill…I think I will go over to the hospital campus, take my clothes off, and pleasure myself while I wait for my bus”???  

Not sure what the answer to that question is…but I will say this….with the weather getting warmer, and spring fever rising to a fine pitch in my office, Mrs. Kissinger and I have often commented on many a sunny day that it would be nice if “naked guy” would make a come back!!  (Sorry – couldn’t resist that final pun!)

Things always seem to come in three’s, don’t they? April 4, 2010

I have had a very reflective last couple of days….three days to be exact.  I have always noticed that deaths seem to come in three’s.  Whenever a famous person dies, doesn’t it seem that within days two more celebrities also pass?  Today is another type of three’s.  Three tributes to three very different people, who each touched my life in three very different and special ways.  

In this first week of April, there was the anniversary of my Grandmother’s passing a year ago, the 6th anniversary of my cousin’s death, and what would have been the 48th birthday of a dear friend from my childhood.  That is a lot to digest in a brief amount of time.  That is a lot of grief in a brief amount of time.   Although Etienne passed away at least 13 years ago, and I had not seen him since I was 13 or 14, he had left a rather large imprint on my heart.  Through Face Book, I had re-connected with his dear brother Jacques, whom I had briefly dated in the 8th grade.  I had also briefly dated Etienne that same year – an act that had caused a rift between me and Jacques.  It was through FB that I had the opportunity to heal that rift with Jacques, and received the news that his dearly loved brother had gone on to become a very respected and much-loved OB/GYN, and died far too young of brain cancer.  When he shared that news with me last year, it felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.  I cried for days for this man who in my mind’s eye was still a beautiful boy of 16, with a smile so brilliant it could cause your heart to catch in your throat every time it was flashed at you.   Today was his birthday.  I got to chat online with Jacques today, who, like me, was in a reflective and slightly agitated state.  He is still grieving….he is still missing him.  He said he wished I had known Etienne as an adult, could have witnessed him as an MD, could have enjoyed the man he had turned out to be.   I said I know, J….but he is forever that wonderful fun-loving boy of 16 in my soul.

April 1st was the one year anniversary of my Grandmother’s passing.  She would have been 98 on St. Patrick’s day.  She had a long life, so my grief for her is very different from what I was feeling for Etienne.  It was a much more selfish type of grief.  One that is very self-serving.  I just miss her……SO, so much. I miss her warm smile, her gentle soothing ways.  I miss her love of family, the way she found joy in just having her family around her.  I miss her brilliant artistic nature.  I miss her kooky and  zany ways, I miss her being compared to Lucille Ball by her daughter – and nodding my agreement.  I miss getting her a little tipsy, and watching the conversations and hearing the cheeriness of laughter that ensued.  Mostly, and this seems so small and silly….but I miss being at family dinners when everyone is busy eating, and no one is talking, and having her chime in, “somebody must have been hungry!!”  She loved table conversation, and was never quite comfortable with silence.  Our dinner tables are forever a bit less animated.  I will try to continue your knack  for interesting  dining pratter.  I hope that in some small way, I can honor your memory with such a simple act of conversation.

April 3rd was the 6th  anniversary of my dear cousin Bobby’s suicide.  He was only 33 years old, and the darling of our family.  He was the youngest grandchild, and the only boy among four older girls who adored him and doted on him.  He was our Grandfather’s name sake, he was my uncle’s fishing buddy, he was his older sister Leigh’s best friend and confidant, and he was the baby brother I never had.  He was a loving son, a brilliant scientist, a Boy Scout, a lover of nature, music and laughter.  The last time I saw him was at our Grandmother’s 90th birthday celebration.  It was the first time in about 20 years that all four cousins had been together, and it was a raucous reunion.   I played bartender, and kept mixing up shaker after shaker of fabulous cosmopolitan cocktails until it seemed the whole main room of the party was bathed in a heavenly pink hue.  The next day I got to host Bobby and Leigh at my home for a couple of hours.  If I had known that would be the last time to see him, I would have held him a little tighter, taken more pictures, told him I loved him oh so much.  Told him how sorry I am that bipolar had him in its terrible grasp.  Told him to not lose hope.  Told him to be patient…that he could wait it out…that the episode would pass.  That I would be waiting for him on the other side of the looking-glass when it was over.  Tell him not to take his life.  Most of all…I would tell him how shattered he was going to leave my heart when I got the news.  Tell him that after six years, that ache is still there, but so is my deep and abiding love for him, and the memories of the wonderful darling boy who graced our family with his presence for the 33 years that we had him.

Wishing for tissue amnesia April 6, 2010

As I mentioned yesterday, the last few days have been rather emotional for me.  It wasn’t until yesterday when I woke up with a completely numb right hand, that I realized it had been a really emotional time for my body!

In Chinese medicine, they believe that your body tissue remembers every single trauma it has ever suffered.  Trauma can be injury, surgery, weakness, or bruise.  I can attest to this phenomenon, as I have witnessed my own tissue blatantly not letting me forget I was in a horrific car accident 12 years ago this coming August!  I have this one spot in my back that decides to go into spasm any time my body senses I am under attack.  I don’t know what the hell it is thinking!!  Does it really think it is coming to my defense when it decides to hit me with a spasm when I am on the exam table in the middle of my female exam???  There I am in all my flippin’ glory up in the stirrups praying I was anywhere else with a cosmopolitan in hand, when out of the blue I am hit with a spasm in my back that then decides to jump to my inner thigh.  Oh, no honey – it gets sooo much worse!!  My doctor – being the gallant gent that he is decides to help me out in my Charlie Horse moment!!  (kill me now!!)  He takes my foot out of the stirrup, and stands up from his wheely chair perch, and puts my leg on his shoulder to stretch out the muscle!!!  (yes, he did keep me well covered - I just wish he had covered my face as well!!)

I was at acupuncture this evening, and everything was hurting!!  She had just started putting the needles in, when what reared its ugly head??  yup!  My old nemesis right side back spasm.  More needles…then back spasm decides to jump over to the left side – something it has never done!!!   More needles – it felt like she had put about 40 of them in the top of my head.  I began to wonder if I could rent myself out as a large watering can…or tea pot, as I was positive if I drank any water what so ever I would spring a leak!!!  I told her that a few years ago a massage therapist who is really into the “whoooooo ” did a special ceremony to give my tissue permission to let go of that memory, and let itself be healed once and for all.  Nothing doing!  No way Jose!!  You can’t kick this party girl out!  This shit doesn’t want to take the chance  of missing out on another spasm party!!

So, here I am facing my tissue dilemma, trying to figure out the best way to talk my tissue off the ledge, and let it know, “hey, girl!  I got this!  I don’t need you sounding the muscle alarm and working yourself into a lathery spasm just cause I am getting a little stressed out or nervous!”  I wish there was a way to erase the memory.  I can’t hit it hard with the hopes of giving it amnesia, because with my luck, that trauma will cause another spasm trigger point!!   I have my annual female exam scheduled next week…and all I have got to say is this…there had better not be a repeat of that  inner thigh spasm business like last year or this Doll is gonna have some serious issues with my tissues!!!

Who was that Masked “Oxy” Moron?? April 9, 2010

Yesterday afternoon I was in my office working away, Flo from the float pool’s sister, “Jenny from around the corner” had just gotten back from doing the bank run, and bringing back lunch for the both of us – (Did I mention that Mrs. Kissinger and I LOVE, love, love having someone from the float pool helping us in our office???)   I heard someone jangling around in the candy jar Mrs. K and I keep fully stocked and strategically positioned just inside the door of our office – you can’t walk past our office and not see it…..( The better to lure you with my dear!)

I glanced in the “shop lifting mirror” I have on my desk so I can see who is coming in the office without always having to stop what I am doing, and turn around to look.  There was “Amberley” from our medical records department looking for a little afternoon sweet.  As she is looking for that perfect morsel, the one little sugar gem that is going to satisfy her sweet tooth, she casually says….did you guys hear about the pharmacy??  I glanced up again and said, “No – what about the pharmacy?”  She said, “It was just robbed at gun point!!”  I spun around my chair, and exclaimed – as only I can…”What the fuck??!!”  She started laughing, and I was rather perplexed by that, but she said I was the only person who had reacted with any level of emotion – which she thought was the most normal reaction given the news she had just delivered to us.

Apparently, people don’t find it unusual to see a dude walk into the foyer of a professional building – located on a hospital campus – wearing a ski mask in April mind you…with NARY A SKI IN SIGHT – walk past two other businesses, and go into the small pharmacy – put a gun in the face of the pharmacist behind the counter, and demand all the Oxycontin they had on the premises!!!         

Poor Amberley!  She and “Clarey” had gone down stairs en route to a smoke break – and had stopped by the pharmacy to get a soda, and found the big door that comes down from the ceiling at closing time pulled down almost the whole way to the floor.  They got there even before the police did!!!   ”Jenny from around the corner” had narrowly missed having the Oxy moron hijack our lunch on his way into jacking the pharmacy of all 15 100 count bottles of Oxycontin in stock!!

Things must be getting pretty desperado out there on the streets if addicts are now holding up hospital pharmacies!  The Safeway and Albertson pharmacies have been hit so many times that they have started beefing up security – making it virtually impossible for these creeps to terrorize the staff - not to mention the customers in these other chain drug stores.

Wouldn’t it be fabulous if this Oxy Moron had been stupid enough to use his mom’s car in this little ‘cotin caper??  Can you imagine Mrs. Jones sitting in a bingo parlor next week, when someone spots the car used as the get away car in the parking lot…the place gets surrounded, and they pull Mrs. Jones out of there right when she is on for B-1 – on 4 cards no less mind you !!  They bring her ass in for questioning, and it suddenly dawns on her…”Dougie’s got some ‘splaining to do!!!”

Do you need a “WTF” stamp? April 10, 2010

Did you ever have one of those moments either in a conversation, or situation where it would be so appropriate for a comic strip writer to draw a HUGE question mark above your head, and perhaps even have one of those speech balloons coming from your mouth with three little letters drawn in it saying…”WTF??!!”

A few months ago, Mrs. Kissinger’s daughter, “Jenner B.” sent her a stamp that when you push down on it left those wonderful three letters in bright red ink on the paper….”WTF”.  We tried it out a couple of times, on various pieces of paper, and came to the same conclusion every time…whoever came up with this idea is an absolute F-ing genius!!  There are just SO many times that this stamp could come in handy.  There are just SO many things that happen in a person’s day where any other response would fall short of capturing the full essence of raw emotion.

I had a week’s worth of “WTF” moments!  It started one week ago today when my spousal unit called me on his way home to tell me he had received a call from his brother in Alaska with some alarming news.  My son – who had relocated there a month earlier had called him, and said he had (And this is where it would have been nice to have had a woman taking that phone message, because a woman would not have gotten things so wrong!!!)  been involved in a shooting!!!    Apparently, he and several people had been sitting around a bon fire a few nights before, having a few beers, and shooting off a gun, and someone had gotten shot, and my brother-in-law didn’t know if my son was the one responsible, but he did know that he had not been the one who had been shot.  My hands were shaking as I put down the phone…What the fuck????  We have had numerous phone calls throughout the week from said brother-in-law – each one more confusing than the last…each one leaving me more confused, upset, frantic and pissed.  Why didn’t the brother-in-law call me directly?  Better still, why didn’t he have my son call me directly??  Thank goodness for the internet, or I never would have been able to have discovered the full truth!  Here is a link to the online story so my family members who may be reading this can also get the entire story:    JuneauEmpire.com – “Arrest in Thane camp ground shooting” written on April 9th.  Seems my brother-in-law forgot to mention to my husband that my poor son was not only NOT the shooter – he was sitting right next to the poor man who got shot – NOT by a stray bullet fired recklessly by drunken party revelers – but by a man sitting 8 feet away from them just across the fire - intentionally….twice…in the face!!!!   W – T – F!!!!????

Let’s see….what else has happened….On two separate days this week, we received emails at work telling us that a favorite employee has given notice.  The pharmacy down stairs from my office was robbed at gun point….Oh – and my husband invites an old friend over for dinner on a night that he has to go to bed early because he has work in the morning…leaving me to visit with his friend, and clean up the kitchen!

Note to self:  Remember to ask Jenner B. to send you one of those handy-dandy WTF stamps!!!

A one way ticket to hot mess town April 13, 2010

Jenner B. had better hurry up with that WTF stamp, cause honey – I could have used that sucker all OVER THE F-ING place yesterday!!!

Okay – stay with me because I talk fast, and I take lots of back roads, and they get mighty windy, and I don’t want to lose any of you…and puleeze – can we just hold the questions until the end of the story…otherwise this Doll is apt to get lost…and do we really want me to have to start all over again????  MMMMhhhhmmm….I didn’t think so!

I had my annual physical yesterday, and as I have alluded to in previous posts….The Doll doesn’t do well with the whole ….female exam portion if you will.  Let’s just say that this year was no exception, and the only GOOD thing I can say about yesterday’s stellar example of how things can go oh so….weird when it comes to my medical experiences is that I at least did not get a back spasm in the middle of the whole shebang.  (probably not the best word to use …considering the whole stirrup thang and all!!)

The medical assistant was “new” to me…although she took great pains, and went to extended length to explain to me that she wasn’t new….I had just never seen her before because she is the “float” medical assistant…and fills in wherever she is needed…and it was my doctor’s MA’s day off.  SO glad we cleared THAT up!  Things were going along at a pretty normal clip…it took three finger pokes to get the required amount of blood for my cholesterol, liver function, and fasting glucose tests because she didn’t bother to try to warm up my fingers from their nervous “white coat” state before attempting to milk them of their precious liquid cargo.  It was what came next that should have warned me that this year would, quite natch, not be any different on the weirdness Richter scale than any other in my medical past.  Once all the finger poking, blood pressure taking, and medical history questions had been dispensed, she very dramatically and quite lyrically announced, “And now, I leave you to your wonderful nakedness!”  You are thinking what I was thinking, aren’t you???? Where the HELL is that stamp???  Then I said, “Well, um….usually I like to um…”  She interrupts with a parental, “Use your words!!!”  I cleared my throat and tried again…”I usually like to talk to the doctor for a few minutes while I still have my clothes on – if you don’t mind.  I am less apt to forget what I want to say when I am not sitting here with not much more than a sheet covering me, and I am freezing to death!”  WHEW!!      She assures me that this is no problem, and out the door she flew to get my doctor.

Fast forward now – questions have been answered, blahdy blahdy blah…and now I am being examined by the doctor.  Then he gets to the crucial point when he needs to go get a female personage to come into the room whilst he does the dreaded female part of the exam.  He leans over the exam table, and in a most apologetic tone states, “We are running a bit low on medical assistants today…so I might just need to grab someone from the business office to be your chaperone today…would that be all right with you?”  I said no problem, but in the back of my mind I was thinking – no way!!  For sure he will walk out that door, and Miss Perky Pants will be right there waiting to assist!!  Ahhhh…..NO!!  In walks the doctor with - Sandy….from the business office!!!!

So, yeah….it was weird!  I kept thinking – Thank God I work in Cardiology where there is nary a stirrup in sight!  I don’t even think they have them on our exam tables, because um….we don’t work on that end!!!!   I was trying to imagine what was going through her mind!  What the dinner conversation might be like at her house that evening!!  I will say this for ‘ol Sandy…mighty good with the “keep her mind off the matter at hand chatter!!”  She held my hand – (nice grip) complemented me thoroughly on my beautiful nails NICE TOUCH!!!  Asked where I get my nails done – good filler crap – and asked me where I work!  All in all, not too shabby for a fill in gal in a rather awkward situation!!

Me, on the other hand, I was feeling like one serious hot mess!

A week in motion April 17, 2010

Don’t look now, but I do believe The Doll is about to get all heady, and try her hand at waxing philosophical.  Feel free to let me know if I hit my mark.

This week was set into motion when I received a text message on Sunday from my younger son that my former father in law was back in the hospital, and it didn’t look like he was going to make it this time.  Dick has had many a close call over the years, starting with a quadruple bypass early in my marriage to his son…and he had always managed to defy all odds placed on his recovery.  I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around him NOT doing it this time….it just didn’t seem possible that he wouldn’t thumb his nose at God and everyone else around him, and go home again.

But, as with any good book that has held your attention, and captivated you with many a brilliant prose, the final chapter came on Monday night.  Monday night for me was a different type of emotional roller coaster.  I had been to see my doctor that morning, and had blood drawn as part of my annual exam.  About 7:30 that evening, the emergency on call physician phoned me to say that my potassium levels had come back at an “alarmingly low-level,” and she wanted me to go to the hospital to have and IV potassium push.  I was floored!  I assured her that if my levels were low, it wasn’t anything new, and I didn’t think it was that urgent.  She assured me that they were SO low, in fact, that if I was in the hospital, I would have been “red-flagged” and the doctors would have been rushing in to administer a potassium push for fear that I would go into cardiac arrest!!  Hmmm…now she had my attention!!!!  She did give me the option of having her phone in an order to my pharmacy for potassium pills to be taken every four hours through the night and then I was to call my doctor first thing in the morning to have my blood drawn again.  Before she hung up, she requested that I pour myself a glass of orange juice, eat a banana, and wanted assurance that I had someone with me who could call 911 should I go into cardiac arrest during the night!!!  Holy blood chemistry panel Batman!!!!

Tuesday morning I learned about Dick’s passing from my son, and spent a couple of hours reflecting on his memory while I waited for my doctor to call me back about my blood test, and what he wanted me to do next.  That was when I noticed a different type of motion.  In that quiet time I finally heard my body talking, and realized I was dizzy.  I often am…and joke about being a “dizzy broad” and usually attribute this as being a side effect of my medication Lyrica.  What I learned is that this is also a side effect of being low on potassium.  I ate another half of a banana, and sipped my orange juice like a nice compliant patient, and thought about Dick.  He was a lovely curmudgeonly soul, who lived life on his own terms, and who has forever left his imprint on my heart.  I loved him from the moment I met him at the tender age of 18.  I was newly graduated from high school, and was dating his 3rd son that summer of 1982, when we were invited over to their house for dinner.   The first thing that struck me was his physical appearance.  He was the perfect blend of Walter Matthau and Howard Cossell…and I TOLD him so!!   Years later, when the movie, “Grumpy old men” came out all I could see every time Walter Matthau was on-screen was Dick!!  I am happy to report that after a night of horse pill popping, and eating enough bananas to choke a small chimp, the blood potassium recount came back much more positive – so at least the scare that had been set into motion the night before was now more of a stroll versus a sprint.

Wednesday night, I got to take a trip down memory lane as I made my way into the imaging clinic to have my neck MRI.  I had been there many times before – most recently a year ago when my L-5 had blown a gasket.  It is never a good thing when the MRI tech remembers you, and comments about you being a frequent flyer!  I asked if it would be possible for me to have a look at the pictures after we were finished, as I had not seen my “hard wear” since I was about 6 weeks post- op from my neck fusion surgery now almost 3 years ago…I was curious to see if my worst fears of my plate shifting had come to pass.   Although the tech is technically not allowed to give her opinion, she said she could confirm that my suspicions/symptoms had a matching physical reason.  It appears that I have herniated discs both above my fusion and below.  I was beginning to feel like I had motion sickness!

Thursday, all the emotional turmoil of the week had finally caught up with me.  Everything hurt…my neck, my arms, my hands, my back, my pride, my feelings.  I didn’t know what to think…I didn’t know what to do.  As I left the office that afternoon, the sun was still shining.  Crossing the parking lot, I felt the sun beaming on my face, and I slowed my pace down to enjoy every warm moment.  Before I reached my car, I stopped completely and just closed my eyes to drink in the experience completely.  It was the most delicious elixir I had tasted in some time.   Sometimes,  the best reaction is no action…and sometimes the best thing you can do when you feel like you are on a locomotion is to stop all motion completely…and just be.

Are you there, God? It’s me The Doll April 19, 2010

Do you come from “strong stock?”  Are you one of those people who are “gifted with nerves of steel?”  Are you one of those personages that folks just love to have around in an emergency because you are soooo freaking level-headed??  And, are you the lucky person who gets to hear all those positive blase’ statements such as, “God never gives us more than we can handle,” or “that which does not kills us makes us stronger?”  Finally, let me ask you this – are you as SICK of it as I am????   I have decided to tell God that I think he has put too much faith in me, and if any of you are in the same life boat, feel free to insert your name into this missive and send it on its holy way.

Are you there God, it’s me – The Doll.  I have been meaning to write you, but, as you are clearly aware, I have been working over time down here putting out one emotional forest fire after another.  I know most folks would be flattered that you have put such faith in their ability to handle anything you decide to toss their way, but I am NOT one of those peeps!!  I gotta tell ya “G,” things have been pretty rough here!!  I am really starting to feel like I am on the bottom of a football pile-up with my pouty puss landing squarely in the mud puddle!!

I don’t mean any disrespect, but I really don’t understand how you decide which people to hand the “trials” to, and which ones seem to get a life time “pass” on “trying times.”  Is it that some people are stronger so they get more?  Is it because we passed the last test, so this time you are going to “up the ante?”  If so, I am here to tell you – I am NOT as strong as I look!!!  What does a person have to do to fail – and not be given a make up quiz???!!!

So, are we good?  Am I coming in loud and clear?  I would like you to consider this my official letter of resignation as far as personal trials and tribulations goes.  If you need anyone to bring flowers to anyone to spread some good cheer or something – I am your gal.  Help someone pick out an outfit to some swanky party – The Doll is at your service!!  Say something inappropriate at just the right time when the room goes silent?  Heck!  I’m a pro!!!  I have lots of other wonderful – untapped treasures to offer!!!  I have a rather long list of talents and bring quite an imaginative skill set to choose from, so PLEASE, OH PLEASE, stop stomping on my tribulation last raw nerve!!!

Respectfully submitted, The Doll     

Guest Blog April 22, 2010

Hi All,

The Doll has graciously allowed me to guest blog since I am new to the blogging scene and she has a loyal following.  I welcome your comments and if you’d like to see future blogs, please visit me at martipants.wordpress.com.

Win, Lose, or Draw

My husband and I live far apart – very far apart.  At the moment, he cannot travel.  No, he is not incarcerated.                                                                          

Ordinarily, phone calls and texts mean more to me than diamonds.

Given our extraordinary circumstance, they mean exponentially more.

Recently, I had a major surgery.  While not life-threatening, it’s significant enough to require a 4-day hospital stay and lengthy disability.

The debate?  The expectation of a phone call.

On my husband’s day off, I thought I’d hear from him a few extra times than I normally would.  As 10AM approached, I couldn’t wait any longer and I text him wondering where my husband was and why he hadn’t checked on me yet.  He was busy running errands and was planning to call me a bit later.

Even though I have expressed to him how much I draw strength from his texts and calls and how much I need him to be ‘here’ in any way he can, he does not understand why I am hurt that he didn’t have time to at least text me. 

So, I am struggling to understand the deeper meanings. 

I can let go of a phone call, but it’s not just a phone call.  It’s a need.  He’s not dismissing a phone call, he’s being dismissive about an important need of mine.  To finish the equation, he’s dismissing me.

If I give up this need, what am I losing?  What might I gain?  Will this lead to surrendering other needs?  I’ve not only witnessed this happen to others, but I’ve experienced it myself – slowly surrendering bits of you – losing yourself to another’s more powerful needs/wants.

If I keep hanging onto the need, what might I lose?  If I call it a draw, am I compromising too much?  Will resentment build and widen the gap?

I worry that ‘little’ things chip away at the marriage rock till all that’s left is sand that can only withstand the elements grain by grain compared to the strength of the collective monolith.

Ultimately, does strength come from quiet surrender or flipping a resounding bird?

That “Aha” moment…. April 23, 2010

Communication.  That one little word that causes women to gather around a table with either steaming coffee mugs or chilled cocktail glasses in hand, and settle in for an 8 hour “chat” – or sends men running to the golf course or local sports bar!

Why is it that women find it so cleansing to discuss whatever is on their minds, but you get men and women together, and it’s like oil and water, or east meets west – OR - pancakes and salsa – AKA = a hot mess!!!!

I have discussed this in previous posts, and it never ceases to amaze me – nor does it seem to ever get easier.  I finally sat down with the Big Guy last night for the “word” discussion.  I took my cousin “Pooks” advice and owned up to whatever part I played in the fight that lead up to that moment – and she was right, it did help things along.  (Thanks, girl!!)  

After each side had their air time, mutual apologies were given….but something was still bugging me.  I needed him to know just how deeply I had been hurt.  He needed to know he had no right to ever subject me to that kind of verbal filth or emotional pain again.  He needed to hear that to me – they weren’t just words!!!  To me, it was worse than a physical slap.  To me, the fact that they came from someone who promised to love me and cherish me forever – was like a shot through the heart.

It wasn’t until I told him –  that word was my deal breaker – that he had his “aha” moment!  Once I said that if he ever called me that again – we were done -  it finally hit him, just how much damage he had inflicted upon me with his “words.”     

And, when the re-hashing was over, he summed it up with this very powerful statement:  “Hmmm…I guess after 13 years of marriage, we are still trying to figure each other out.  But, I wouldn’t want it any other way.  I wouldn’t want to not have you.”

And that is when The Doll had her “aha” moment….he may not always “get me” – but – he does love me.

Talents in exile April 24, 2010

Everyone has their own cache of talents that they bring to the table whether it be the conference table, the board room table, the breakfast table or the coffee table.  Some talents are very evident, some require them being brought to our attention, some need to be saved for a more …um..private venue…and SOME  are meant to be strictly kept under wraps – such as singing off-key in the shower!

What do you do when you believe you have a talent, and someone else tells you to forget it?  Tells you to “shelve” it.  Tells you there is no way you will ever be good at it, make a living at it, don’t have what it takes for it   - essentially, your talents have been shipped off to “Talent Exile.” 

People don’t seem to realize how powerful their words can be – especially to a person who may be trying something new, or may feel fragile, or maybe they just got the courage to branch out finally – only to be shot down by someone who thinks they know better how that person’s life should be.

Mrs. Kissinger has said numerous times that the hardest part about having adult children is learning not to mother them.  She finds that the most important thing to remember is to just shut up!!!  Come to think of it, my father in law has said the same thing.  Two little words – shut up.  I know, I know…most folks believe that saying “shut up” is not polite.  But – if you are saying it to yourself, does that count?  What, if each person would take a moment to say that to themselves before they give their unsolicited opinion to someone?

Think about how many movies would not have been made, stories never written, inventions never produced if  someone had sent those peoples’ talents into exile?  When I was in college, I was told I had no talent for writing, so I shouldn’t waste my time going into that part of the communications field.  And despite the fact that I had no intention of becoming a writer, the fact that someone said I had no talent for it so don’t even go there was crushing.  I never again attempted to even keep a journal let alone write another poem, short story or essay.  I let that be sent to talent exile.

This blog is my first attempt in 28 years to write.  Your comments, your encouragement, your willingness to share your stories have all played a HUGE part in first rescuing, and then restoring a little known talent from exile.  Thank you all for giving me the courage each day to come back and try again.  Each time I do, I realize how the Tin man in the Wizard of Oz must have felt when Dorothy and the Scarecrow came to his rescue with the oil can.  Each time I come here, and leave you with my thoughts, I get a little less rusty.

Guilty Pleasures April 25, 2010

Guilty pleasures.  Why is it that pleasure has to include guilt anyway?  Whoever came up with that saying has some serious ‘splaining to do.

New mothers feel guilty if they take a few hours away from the baby to get their hair done, have lunch with a friend, or even just to refresh and take a long nap. 

Students feel guilty if they take a break from studying to surf the net, or play a video game, or check their social network for a few minutes.

Wives feel guilty for indulging their shoe addiction, and feel they have to sneak their latest DSW treasure into the back of their closet.

Is there really ANY pleasure that doesn’t have guilt or pain associated with it??  Is there anything that we do for ourselves where we don’t have this nagging little voice in the back of our minds saying, “You really shouldn’t be doing this.  You know you should be doing something else right??”  Anyone else out there need some cotton to stuff in their ears so you can’t hear that conniving bitchy little fun sheriff?

I think it is so important to take a little time for YOU.  If this idea is completely foreign to you, then - OMG,we SO need to talk!!!  I want everyone to list 5 things that they really enjoy indulging in – just for you!! These should be things that you find refresh you, empower, relax you, inspire you – things that on any normal given day would bring on the guilt if you thought about partaking in that activity….BUT - this time around, as you write out your 5 “Guilty Pleasures” The Doll is giving you permission to indulge.  As of right now,all of you are completely 100 percent absolved of taking on any guilt should you choose to participate in any of the five pleasures you enjoy.  

I will start this exercise off by listing The Doll’s top five “Guilty Pleasures.”

1.  Sleeping in – for how ever long I need to on a Saturday morning.

2.  Taking a long luxurious bath, with lots of lovely smelling bath salts, a bath pillow for my head to rest on, and a good book to read while soaking. 

3.  Watching a favorite movie – even if I can quote the whole damn thing start to finish

4.  Eating the flourless chocolate cake at Saltoro’s

5.  Going shoe shopping

I hope you decide to participate in this fanciful little mind expander.  If you do, and you feel compelled to share, I just may have to add, “Reading other people’s Guilty Pleasures” to my list as #6!

Can they rebuild her? April 27, 2010

Today I have my “date” with my fabulously dashing neurosurgeon to go over my latest MRI of my neck.  I have been anxiously awaiting this appointment for two weeks, it could not have gotten here soon enough – and now, now that the day has finally arrived, I can’t seem to slow the clock down.

Does he know what’s wrong with me?  (I know!  Loaded question, right!?)  Do I already know, but am in denial?  Does he know how to help me?  Or, more to the point, can he help me?

In my kooky quest to stave off panic and terror in my heart and mind, I have taken to writing new episodes of “The Bionic Woman” in my head with me, The Doll, in the lead role instead of Lindsay Wagner.

The first show opens with The Doll sitting in a wheel chair at a spa, hair wrapped up in a fashionable leopard print hair turban, neck encased in a neck brace disguised as a lovely neck scarf, and my bejewelled fingers (ala Liz Taylor) are soaking in a manicure finger bowl while Madge the Manicurist is telling me I am soaking in Palmolive.  I am right in the middle of telling her that for the money I’m paying I don’t appreciate her using cheap ass  dish soap to do my mani when Oscar from the OSI approaches to tell me there is a new technology available to rebuild my neck.

The bionic parts available will allow me to really wind my neck around like Niecy Nash on Reno 911, (Oh no you didn’t!!)  and also head butt with such velocity it will send my opponent clear into the next county!

I know – I am truly too twisted for color tv!  But, whatever gets you through the day, right?

I was SO hopeful after my neck fusion three years ago.  And that surgery kicked my sorrowful ass!!!  It took me a year to recuperate, and I still didn’t get the relief I sought.  

What if there is nothing to be done for me?  Can I find the strength to go on in the pain I am in?  What if he can help me?  Can I summon the courage to endure  yet another surgery??!!  What about my job?  Can I take the time to do this?

Too many thoughts/questions this morning with too few answers.  I guess there is nothing for me to do but wait – something I have never been good at..waiting …waiting and patience.  I wonder if that is something the good doctor can install while he is rebuilding my neck?

Healing Puddytat Paws April 28, 2010

I don’t know how they can sense it, but my cats always know when I am sad, or ill, or in need of some kind of comfort.  I have never understood how anyone can say that a cat is aloof, or cats in general are not affectionate!

I have three cats.  Polly – we named her that because she is a polydactyl, her sister, Rizzy – short for Rizado, which means curly in Spanish – she has a curly tail, and Pete, or Petey as I have always called him – he is the most puuuurrrrrfect “tuxedo cat,” and a truer “mama’s boy” there never was!  These precious little darlings greet me at the front door every night, follow me and the Big Guy from room to room and are the most affectionate fuzzy-mates a person could ever hope for – they are in every sense – companions.

Three years ago when I had my neck fusion surgery, I was off of work for a couple of months recuperating, and my cat Polly got in the habit of hanging out at the foot of my bed keeping me company whenever I was sitting at my vanity attempting to dry my hair.  I fatigued quite easily in those early post operative days especially lifting anything  – including my hair dryer – and Polly would work her way over to me, sit behind me, and start “making muffins” on my back!  My cats are all indoor cats, and have been declawed, so having them “kneading” anything doesn’t cause damage or pain.  Polly has enormous paws because of her having all those extra toes – 7 on one front paw, 8 on the other, and 5 on each back paw – so she can cover a rather large area in a short amount of time!  One morning, she sensed I was having a very high pain day, and took her place right behind me on the bed, sat up on her hind quarters, and started massaging the middle of my upper back.  She was really taking this task seriously, digging her toes deep into my sore tissue, so I half jokingly said, “hey – do you think you could move a little to the right?”  Well, I’ll be damned if that silly cat didn’t immediately work her magic fingers over to the right side of my back, and then stand up on her back feet and lean into my back so she could apply even more pressure to the spot she was “working out!”

The past few months, I have found that on the weekends I require a nap, and Petey is more than happy to keep me company.  He always has to start out by getting under the blanket, and immediately begins “making muffins” on my tummy.  Then he gets restless, climbs over my legs to get behind me, and starts massaging my entire back, then wiggles up and starts kneading the back of my head!   You haven’t truly lived until you have had your scalp massaged by Mr. Pete!   Then he usually comes back around to my front, and lays right along beside me and finishes by softly wiggling his toes on my face as he purrs himself into kitty slumber.

Yesterday I met with my neurosurgeon to go over my latest MRI of my neck.  I was given the rather difficult news that I now have one herniated disc above my fusion, and two below.  I held it together until I got home last night, and then I sat down on the couch and really started processing the news.  As the tears started rolling down my cheeks, all three kitties joined me – one behind my head with her paw resting gently on my shoulder, one on my left side with her paw on my thigh, and Petey on my right with his paw place right on top of my hand.  I know I have a wonderful doctor who is a gifted surgeon, and a supportive human healer…but it is such a comfort to know I also have the love, affection, and gentle gift that my kitties selflessly give me with their puddytat paws.

Connecting the dots… May 2, 2010

Growing up, my family was always spread out all over the United States.  In fact, the family tree probably looked like an advertisement for a cell phone company with all those little dots all over the service area map.

When your family is far-flung, you really have to make an effort in order to stay in touch.  The only thing you have going for you is the fact that because there are sometimes many states that separate you, there usually isn’t the need to move often, leaving no forwarding address should you not wish to nurture those relationships.

My boys just lost their grandfather.  He lived locally, and my children spent a lot of time with him.  My father lives in Philadelphia – clear across the country from us.  In some ways, I feel like my kids got a little short-changed as far as building a relationship with him.  I moved across country when I was 14, so I was use to not seeing my dad very often – but I already had a well established relationship with him.  My kids have only seen my father a handful of times in their whole life.  My younger son in particular is taking the loss of his grandpa very hard, and with this loss, it has awakened in him a need to connect with his other grandpa.  I don’t know how to help him.  My father has step-grandchildren that he is very close to, but they live within a 15-20 minute drive from his house, and they have always spent a great deal of time at his home.   Several years ago, I tried to encourage my father to write to the boys, as they were both going through some personal struggles, and could have used some encouragement.  My father has always been a wonderful letter writer, so I thought it would be a great idea.  I was very saddened when my father replied, “I wouldn’t know what to say, I hardly know them.”  I honestly don’t remember what I said to him, but what I should have said was, “That is hardly their fault!”

This situation has really made me think because I have a granddaughter.  It is a complicated story, but the long and short of it is that my older son had a one night fling with a gal he had met at rehab, and didn’t wear a “party hat” to the party.  She lives on the other side of the state from us, and this coming Thursday, she will have her first birthday, and I have yet to lay eyes on her.  I have kept in touch with the mother, and also have gotten to know the other grandmother.  But I am feeling so conflicted.  My son now lives in Alaska, and he left without ever getting the paternity test done that I had been harping on him about.  Even though he seems to have no doubt that this beautiful little girl is his, both his father and I feel strongly that he needs to establish legal paternity for everybody’s sake.  So many i’s left undotted, so many t’s left uncrossed.  So many dots needing to be connected.  I don’t plan on waiting for a piece of paper though before I get to know her.  The circumstances of her conception may not have been optimal, but it’s not her fault.  If I don’t take an active part in having a relationship with her, and then find out years from now that she is without a doubt his flesh and blood, that most assuredly would be my fault.  I don’t want to take the chance of that dot falling off the radar.

Now THAT’S entertainment! May 3, 2010

I had forgotten just how entertaining a four-year old could be.  Saturday night I had dinner at the home of my former neighbor.  I had not seen her in over a year, and in that time, she and her four-year old daughter had moved into a lovely new home, and two of her three older sons were back living with her.   Her eldest son was offering to cook for us gals, so who could pass that up???

I have always said that four-year olds are two-year olds with a vocabulary – they still throw fits and say “no” but now they can say it in five different languages, and let you know what they want and how miserable you are gonna be until you give it to them!

Lucky for us, she had thrown her fit before I arrived, so all The Doll saw were smiles, giggles, and a darling little person eager to show off her pink and Tinkerbell room – and I was even treated to a peek at her most impressive shoe collection.  This is a little gal I can relate to!!

As the evening progressed, I found myself more and more entranced by this charming little cherub.  I must admit, little girls have always terrified me a little bit.  Being the mother of two boys, I have always felt a little off my game when attempting to relate to a child of the opposite sex that I was accustomed to dealing with.  But “Mikooshla” made it very easy for me – because she wasn’t stand-offish, she was so enchanting in fact, that I found myself drawn into her four-year old magical kingdom!

We were sitting in the living room after dinner having a nice little chat, when “Mikooshla” said, “Hey guys, this is sooo funny!” and then she started giggling like crazy!  This went on for quite some time with her continuing with her lead in, and then all of us dissolving into peals of laughter.  I felt compelled to help her with her delivery, so I said, “Try this:  leave off the ‘this is so funny part, and let the story or joke speak for itself.”  Then I showed her “the pose”  She practiced over and over and over and we finally got this:  

“Hey guys, wait til you hear this!”

After we made sure she had perfected her opening, I told her she needed to continue with her joke.  She said, “Austen put an eyeball on top of my spaghetti!”  Eager to keep things rolling along, I started singing, “On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor eyeball when somebody sneezed.”  She thought about that for a long pause, and finally said, “Ummmm….no…that is NOT funny!”

I think The Doll has just been given “the hook” by a flippin’ four-year old!

Penny candy for your thoughts….. May 4, 2010

There was a time – many moons ago – that a kid could get a good-sized bag of candy for a couple of pennies.  All they had to do was to go down to the corner store with the change they had saved from their allowance, and point out what they wanted, and the storekeeper would scoop out the sugary treasures into paper bags.  If they rationed it out, their sweet treats could last them all week.

There have been many confections invented over the decades, and each generation has strong opinions about which cavity creator rocked the Pop Rocks over the next contender.  It is a debate that can never truly have one clear winner however; because candy is a very personal choice.

If  one has any doubts about just how personal a candy preference can be, they need only spend a few hours in my office, and keep your  eyes peeled on the candy jar Mrs. Kissinger and I keep well  stocked on the counter just inside our office door.   I think I have mentioned in an earlier post that the candy jar is strategically positioned so that it is physically impossible for anyone to walk past our office without seeing it.  (All the better for luring you with, my dear)  I must admit – there have been times when I have felt a little bit like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,  (Albeit, a much more stylish, rocker-chic Stevie Nicks-ish kind of witch)  but instead of a house made out of gingerbread, we set out the candy jar.

The fun thing about having the jar is that it is such a conversation starter.  Sometimes people just need a few minutes of respite from an insanely busy day in the clinic, they toddle on down to the “Biz Off” for a sugar rush, and a quick chitty chat with the ladies that live there.  There are those who just come for the candy – and want NO PART of the fun pratter we offer.  You can always tell when the lid comes off quickly  and you hear an impatient rustling of wrapper being tossed about, and then SLAM!!!  The lid goes back down, and the person is gone without so much as a fine “how do you do?”  Others will really open up – in need of a sounding board – or confess some fun naughty little tidbit.  One motto we have in our room is that it is “Like Vegas.”  What is shared in that room stays in the room – kind of like some twisted confessional!

I also really like it when people share their memories of penny candy of their youth or region.  Sometimes, if they are really good, they just might find it in the “Biz Off” treat jar when next they grace us with their presence.

A tale of two Apple tinis May 6, 2010

   

Have you ever had one of those perfect date nights with the one you love?  I’m talking about an

 evening that started out with your ‘do falling into place without major effort, your eye makeup going on without a

hitch, your skin looking dewy, and your lip gloss applied skillfully so as to shimmer in the candle light.

Tonight, was one of those nights for The Doll.  The Big Guy and I headed down to one of  our favorite restaurants here in the Richmond Beach area.  Hill’s is a privately owned small restaurant tucked into a residential neighborhood in Shoreline.  It is a quaint, eclectic, charming little place where you know you will always have good service, and even better food.                                                          The best part, aside from the ambiance, is that they always have incredible nightly specials featuring seasonal ingredients, and they also rotate their menu so you can always find something new and creative every time you visit.

I ordered an ice-cold apple tini, and The Big Guy opted for a lemon drop.  After the drinks had been delivered to us, I lifted mine, and proposed a toast to my beloved:  “To us, and to the thirteen years of marriage we have built together.”  To which my groom replied:  “Oh yeah!  To thirteen years of hard time!”  *clink*  I peered at him over the brim of my martini glass, allowing the candle light to flicker in my baby blues, and retorted:  “Keep it up smart-ass, it can get oh so much harder!”  Don’t you just love a meal full of high-spirited, good-natured banter?

It was one of those delightful evenings where the conversation flowed easily, and both people were completely at ease and comfortable with each other after a more than fifteen year partnership.  Our appetizer of wild mushroom quesadilla arrived, and we dug into our one nod to “Cinco de Mayo.”  The Big Guy had never tasted this menu item, and I had recommended it to him having been treated to it the last time I had been there with Mrs. Kissinger.  To say he enjoyed it would be an understatement, because all conversation ceased with the exception of the occasional ”MMmmm,” “Wow!,” and that is really amazing.

As the appetizer plates were being whisked away, we ordered another round of drinks, and The Doll started feeling a bit of a buzz working! I don’t know if it was the candle light, or the booze, but as I gazed across the table, I can honestly say, my guy was looking pretty dang cute!  I know we have had a bit of a rough patch lately, but when all is said and done, there is a lot of love and a lot of history between us.

Sometimes you just need to slow down, and take some time to remember why you fell in love in the first place.  Sometimes it just takes a moment like this, in a quiet setting, enjoying a good meal, especially when you didn’t have to prepare it – to recall there really is something special about the two of you.  And sometimes, it is the rosy glow you experience after two apple tinis! 

Vicariously Speaking May 8, 2010

The story you are about to read is true, the names (except mine) were changed to protect the innocent – or not so innocent. 

I have been mulling this situation over for literally weeks!!!  I think I know what I want to say, but I am not sure if I can pull it off.

It is an age-old saga, generation after generation, people have children, and it seems like for a lot of people, once that happens their own lives cease to exist.  The Doll understand that lives get very busy – and kids today have SO many more things on their schedules then even when my kids were little, and then teenagers.

Unfortunately, my kids made some poor choices as far a school goes.  Like most parents, I had such high hopes for my boys – I really did.  They both attended my Alma Mater – and I would  have a little skip in my step every time I had  to attend a school function.  It was almost as if I wanted to show their teachers their enthusiasm vicariously through me.  I thought if I was an interested parent, an attentive parent, somehow it would help things.   I had no idea what I was in for.

No one could ever have prepared me for the moment my eldest son was given the diagnosis of Bipolar Affective Disorder.  I mean, things hadn’t been great for quite some time, but this??  This was the cruelest sentence God could bestow on my child.  And, in a way, I have had to vicariously go through a lot of scary dark times with him – so in a strange titty twist of nature – my son’s illness was given to the entire family.  There would be no bragging about him making honor roll, or winning the track meet, or getting an A in anything…..instead, I got to listen to people brag endlessly about their children…and sit silently,  praying  that they wouldn’t ask about my children, because I had nothing positive to add to the conversation. 

Even now, as June approaches, and friends’ children are preparing for High School or College graduations, it is difficult.  I would never begrudge my friends their pride in their children’s achievements.  But they are your children’s achievements – their stories to tell.  Sometimes it would be nice to hear about you.  What have YOU been doing with your life?  Or – maybe even ask me how I am, and what is new in my world – besides what is new with MY children!!!

Truth be told, I wish I had a little piece of what they had.  I wish I had all the opportunities to live vicariously through my children, and brag about them to anyone who would listen until their eyes glazed over like a   Krispy Creme Donut.  But I didn’t.  But that doesn’t mean I won’t have a reason to in the future.  They do have time on their side – that is the nice thing about being young.  You have the time to make your mistakes, and time to rebuild and reintroduce yourself.  I am very proud of my boys.  They have gone through a lot in their short lives…and they have come out of the storm with their true characters intact, and their whole lives and future to shape and explore.  I look forward to sharing their lives vicariously with you as time permits, but in the mean time….what is new in your world, NOT your vicarious one.

Just call me, “Clueless in Seattle.” May 9, 2010

I don’t know.  Hmmmm, I’m not really sure.  I haven’t really heard anything lately.  I get a text message every once in a while.  I think I need to learn a few more languages, because I am running out of ways to say, “I don’t have a flippin’ clue, and besides that – I am not my son’s keeper.”

Some things, it appears, never change.  No matter how much time goes by, no matter how many years pass, no accounting for the thousands of miles that are between us – people just seem to assume that I am always privy to, or for that matter, want to be privy to every little detail of my eldest child’s life.  Even worse, those that do know something, especially when it may not paint him in the prettiest light, feel compelled to shove the news in my face. 

Part of me is terrified.  For anyone who has lived with a person who has Bipolar, you know what I mean.  You never know from day-to-day, sometimes moment to moment what you will be facing.  My goal, as a serious co-dependant, is to not take responsibility for his words, his actions, his mistakes, or his lack of communication.  Part of taking care of me is to not have to take care of him.

Part of me is angry.  When he left town, I thought I could finally breath for the first time in almost nine years.  I am still waiting to really take that first breath, and fully exhale.  That whole bonfire shooting incident kind of blew that for me.  I am angry because he didn’t do anything wrong – but he seems to be a trouble magnet. Why?  Why doesn’t he stay on his meds?  Why does he bring drama, or attract drama, or throw himself in the middle of drama everywhere he goes?  Why doesn’t he learn from his mistakes?  Why do I allow myself to get pulled in as well?  Why won’t others allow me to not be involved?  Why do I still care?

I need to not be involved for a while.  I love him – to the ends of the earth, and up to the sky and back again – and everyone knows there is no stronger, greater, more powerful love than a mother’s love.  But I can’t be there, I can’t help him.  And it is very painful to know I have no control over his health, his choices, his decisions, his mind.  I am clueless when it comes to all of these things.  But one thing I am tuned into is that not having him here in Seattle has been peaceful.  Not having that unrest 24-7 has been helpful.  Not having to hear about his sins has been divine.  Not being asked what he is up to is an unusually splendid position to be in.

If you want to know how he is, ask him - please….I prefer to be blissfully “Clueless in Seattle.”

Relax, Renew, Rebuild…The three new “R’s” May 11, 2010

Many couples look forward to each summer season by planning out their summer holiday or vacation if you will.  Usually these trips are planned as a wonderful time together, to spend “quality time” with one another, and explore a new place, or return each year to a place they both love so much they have dubbed it “their place.”  The Doll and The Big Guy are not one of “those couples.”

For the majority of our married life, and even the few years leading up to marriage, we have usually taken separate holidays.  One of the reasons that we do this, is because The Big Guy has taken the same trip for well over 25 years, and he generally leaves to go on this annual “pilgrimage” at the end of May.  When we first got together, it was pretty near impossible to go with him, because my boys were still in school, and they weren’t on summer break yet.  The year after we were married, he just happened to go a little later, so the children and I were able to join him on the last leg of his vacation, and then return home together.

And where, you may ask, is this fabulous place that he returns to year after year, and essentially has the same holiday over and over again??  Alaska!  Yup, that’s right.  Home of bitterly cold winters, and summers that last no more than maybe 6 weeks tops – if you’re lucky!  Now, if it were another “A” place such as “Aruba” I could understand that, but Alaska……not so much!

His main reason for going to AK at the end of May every year is to visit his brother, and enjoy the great American – or at least the great Alaskan American past time…fishing.  Now, don’t get me wrong, The Doll is all for outdoor sports, and believes strongly that every person should spend their hard-earned holiday time doing exactly what they love and want to do….and I do enjoy fishing….as long as there is an actual potty on board should a lady need to visit the – shall we say “ladies lounge” - and as long as there are other things to do besides fishing should a gal get sick of baiting hooks, and smelling like salt water. 

So after I did spend a portion of his AK trip with him 12 years ago, I decided that I actually get a better vacation, and my husband returns with a renewed spirit, and refreshed focus on the good life he has at home – when he goes without me –  what could be better than that???  I get to eat a bowl of cereal or popcorn for dinner if I want to – without answering a ton of questions, take long, luxurious bubble baths while reading The National Inquirer, and I get to leave the cats up to sleep with me every single night.  I also get to visit with girlfriends til all hours – at my house – without fear of keeping Mr. “Light sleeper” awake! Yes indeedy -  forget the going on holiday together and staying in too close of quarters – where nerves get frayed, and tempers are bound to flair. 

I would much rather send him on his merry fishing way, and stay at home for my own form of “stay-cation!”  I get to go home to Philly in the fall without him, so don’t think I am getting the short end of the stick here.  It is lovely, it is relaxing, it renews both of our spirits, and helps to rebuild our relationship with a little time apart,  and hey – it works!  Don’t knock it til you try it, trust me on this!

Who was that dude dressed all in white? May 12, 2010

 

I was reminded of this experience I had a few years ago while I was reading my cousin’s blog tonight.  There was a phrase that was like a thread running

through it, “Get the heck out of Dodge!”

About five years ago, I was in the hospital having yet another surgery.  I had thoracic outlet syndrome, and had to have the rest of my first rib sawed off, scar tissue removed, and lots of other invasive cutting, and was on IV pain medication all through the night.

I have a history of not doing well with anesthesia, and pain meds given to me post operative, so I am really good about communicating that information to the people taking care of me in the hospital.

The next morning, my male nurse who happened to have the same name as my husband, Dennis, came in to tell me he was going to take out my IV, and start me on oral pain meds.  I let him know that I always throw up the first pill….and then usually I am ok.

So – he decides to put some anti-nausea medication into my IV before removing it, and then he gives me a pain pill.  Then he left the room.  A couple of minutes go by, and in walks this very tidy black man all in white.  He appears to be in his late fifties, wearing white tennis shoes without a spot on them, crisp white pants with a serious crease pressed into them, and a white shirt.  Normally, I am very good with people’s names, and I always make a point of learning the names of my nurse aids when I am being cared for.  For the life of me I cannot remember this dude’s name!!

He said, “Good mornin’ Miz Gordon, (He sounded like he was from Mississippi, a true southern gentleman!)  it looks like a fine day outside, yes ma’am, a fine day!!!  I understand that you are about to get the heck out of dodge today!”

I told him that nurse Dennis had just given me some stuff to help me not throw up, and a pain pill, and that I was worried I was going to throw up because I always do.  He kind of chuckled and said, “Now Miz Gordon, it wouldn’t be the first time I had to deal with sumptin’ like that – we’ll just cross that kind of bridge if we need to.”  Then he crossed to the window, and opened the blinds to show me the beautiful sunshine that awaited me.

Shortly after he left the room, nurse Dennis came back with my breakfast tray.  I look at it dubiously….breakfast burrito with green bell peppers and sausage in the eggs, orange juice, and oatmeal.  I looked back at my nurse, and said, “Geeze Dennis, you really like to tempt fate don’t you!”  He assured me that the meds he had given me for my tummy would do the trick.  He said he would come back to check on me.

I got about half way through my breakfast when the first sign of trouble began to hit me.  My face felt all hot, and that breakfast burrito was starting to bark at me!!  I pushed the call light, and desperately tried to reach for my “puke bucket.”  Since my right arm was in a sling, I was more than a little bit at a disadvantage, and ended up losing it all over me just as nurse Dennis was walking back into my room.  He stood there beside my bed trying to figure out his next move, when in walked Mr. “Get out of dodge.”  He looked at me, and then looked at Dennis as if to say, “Well here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into Ollie!”  I was beyond mortified!!  I started to apologize, when he said, “Now Miz Gordon, you don’t need to apologize – these things happen.  We just need to get you all fixed up so’s you can get the heck out of dodge!”  Dennis replied, “Well, we can’t let you go home if you can’t keep anything down.  So – we will get you cleaned up, and try again slowly!”

Nurse Dennis left the room, and my male attendant cleared away the tray, got me out of my messy gown, brought me warm wash cloths and got me all wiped down and re-dressed.  By the time the nurse came back I was looking much better than when he had left.  He gave me more meds for my upset tummy, and after an hour, he brought me a very mild tray of food to test.  Thankfully, this time I was able to keep it down.  He gave me the ok to get dressed and get ready to go home.  He left the room to go call my husband.

Just as I was finishing dressing, my male aid came back into my room.  “Well now!”  He exclaimed.  “Look who’s ready to get the heck out of dodge!!  You are just looking right as rain Miz Gordon, yes sir right as rain I tell ya!”  He wished me luck, and left the room, and I never saw him again.

A few days after I got home, I decided I wanted to write a thank you note to nurse Dennis and my wonderful male attendant.  I called the hospital to enquire about the man’s name, as I could not – no matter how hard I tried – remember it!  Nurse Dennis got on the phone, and checked the schedule to see who was on duty the morning after my surgery.  “That’s weird….there was no male aid assigned to your room that morning.”  I heard him flipping some pages as he checked to see if they had used a temp agency.  “Huh….there were no male attendants on duty on our whole floor that day!”  I asked him if he remembered seeing this guy.  “Well, yeah….I think so…I just assumed it was a temp service aid because I had never seen him before.  And come to think of it, I never saw him again after you were discharged!”

I firmly believe Mr. Get out of Dodge was my guardian angel in a male attendant disguise.  Either that, or nurse Dennis and I were both under the influence of the same pain medication that morning!

Dealing with a “cookie pusher” May 13, 2010

The Doll has been dealing with a situation.  No, it is not THE SITUATION from “Jersey Shore!”  Him, I think I could handle…in more ways than one!  No, this is a situation of a different flavor.  Think hard.  When it comes to food, which culture do you think is the worst offender when it comes to pushing food at you for any occasion, or for NO occasion at all!

An Italian Mama?  A Greek family?  A loving Jewish Bubbe’ with a table laden with bagels, lox and cream cheese?  Well, I think The Doll has met her match in the form of her retired Jewish Cardiologist Father!!

My father is the most generous man I have EVER met!  He loves to gift me with everything….but the thing he historically enjoys sending me is food.  And he gets on these kicks where he’ll send you a package of something….it use to be five-pound boxes of salt water taffy from Atlantic City….oh – by the way, our family dentist thanks you SO much Daddy!!  And then if you say “thank you so much I loved it,” he sends another box in short order!!

Normally, these gastronomical assortments of tantalizing treats would be accepted with gratitude, and I would eat my fair share, and also bring a huge portion of it to the office to share with my cohorts.  HOWEVER - a couple of summers ago, I went home to The City Of Brotherly Love to visit for the first time in over 20 years, and had not seen my Daddy Dearest in over eight years – with two or three surgeries mixed in there for good measure.  Each surgery required several months of little or no physical activity as I recuperated, and I will admit that I had lost a little muscle tone, and had added about twelve pounds to my frame since the last time my father had seen me.  Actually, the inactivity had added more than twelve, but The Doll had worked very hard prior to her trip, and had shed twenty of those jiggly bits off her ass before heading east.

So, after a whirl-wind four-day trip home, two spent with my much beloved cousin Pooks, and her lovely partner H, and two spent with Daddy and his wife, “The Pegster,” I was heading out the door to put my heavily packed luggage into the taxi to go to the airport, when my father sends me on my way with this parting statement, “lose some weight!”

I have never been more embarrassed or hurt by my father than in that very moment.  This from a man who has battled his own battle with the bulge his entire adult life!!!!  Why?  WHY on earth would he pick that very moment of my exit to take me down a notch or two??  More to the point, why do family members in particular think it is OK to say rude and thoughtless things period?       Do they think that just because they say they love us, or they are concerned that makes it all right to shatter a person’s feelings?  And what about Mr. Sabotage??  Telling me to lose weight all the while plying me with sweets and treats to the point of sending my blood glucose levels to the moon and back again!!!   Oy Vey!!  What on earth is a Doll to do about this situation?

(Almost) Guiltless in Seattle May 15, 2010

I have been wringing my perfectly manicured hands in anguish this evening over whether or not to even run this post.  But, I figure if I can write about my kids, my spousal wars, and my GYN appointments, why try to save face now???

Today was one of those perfect Pacific NW days that we aren’t supposed to talk about.  People who live here are instructed to always, ALWAYS tell people, if they ask, that it rains here 97% of the time….and THAT’S on a good year!

So, when the City of flannel-ly Love finally finds itself squinting into that yellow orb thingy most people immediately recognize as “the sun,” and starts shedding multiple layers of clothing as well as rain slickers, hats, and their sensible walking shoes, and donning their gayest of outdoor apparel and super styling sun glasses, most folks would consider it close to a sin if you stay inside.

The Doll had every intention of spending the day finishing up planting her dahlia garden, but Mother Nature had other plans for her today!   That’s right, I received a gift of the monthly kind, five days early mind you, and so rather than getting my sunshine equivalent of a vitamin D pill, I spent my day – indoors, on the couch….with a hot pack on my tummy, and an ice pack on my back.   At least I had good Lifetime tv, an ice-cold Diet Coke, and three fuzzy friends to keep me company!

Really, I was fine with it.  The three kids from next door were out on the trampoline, so the only way to have peaceful gardening time is to put grease paint on my face, put fatigues on, and do the “stealth like midnight gardening” I have become accustomed to if I am not in a chatty mood.

So, there you have it.  The Doll did not so much as venture off her back porch today, and now that I have confessed my gray skinned guilt to my faithful flock, I must say that my soul feels very cleansed!  It is just that little bit of nagging Jewish guilt that keeps tapping me on the shoulder with my parasol…what’s a Doll to do about that???

Rainy days, Mondays, and Doctor appts. with bad news gets me down May 17, 2010

Well, today is Monday…..it looks like is just might rain……AND I have a doctor’s appointment today regarding re-opening  my L&I claim on my neck!   Take THAT Karen Carpenter, and write a new verse!  (No offense, Karen!  You’re still my girl!!!  Love the Christmas album – truly I do!)

If The Doll sounds a tad on the crankalicious side, don’t let it get to you.  It is enough that things have gotten to her!  And even the shiniest of linings in dark clouds needs an occasional extra trip through the rinse cycle, don’t they?  Every Doll has their moment when they have reached their “Up to here-ness” and can’t see the forest for the trees, right?  Well, I think I have reached mine, and even though I am wearing my “Life Alert” button, (On a very tasteful chain of course)  I feel as if I have been tossed under a large mac daddy of a bus, and no amount of pressing that damn alert button is going to get my ass up again!

Perhaps I will feel a little better after I actually see the good doctor.  Maybe I will try to write a little more upbeat piece this afternoon.  Until then……”We’ve only just begun……to live……”

Houston, We have a Fusion May 17, 2010

Well, my Monday was not so bad after all – go figger!!  The rain only lasted for roughly 20 minutes, Monday was insane at the office, but I managed to not lose what is left of my mind, or lose my composure, and I was able to concentrate in spite of what was on my mind all morning.

The main thing I was worried about today was the results of my neck (cervical collar) x-ray.  I had the x-ray taken back in April after I saw my neurosurgeon. The reason he had ordered the x-ray?  I have been feeling like I have a lump in the middle of my throat for the past two months, and I thought perhaps the plate in my neck had shifted.

As it turned out, he didn’t have the report in my chart, so being the wonderful man that he is, he called the hospital radiology department as we sat in the exam room of his office, and had someone read it to him, and then fax him a copy.I am very pleased to announce:  HOUSTON, WE HAVE A FUSION!!!!

I have a two level cadaver bone graft fusion, with screws, and a titanium plate in front holding the whole schlamozzle together!!!  If that fusion had failed, it would have been the worst news I could have received today.  It would mean that not only would that level have to be re-done, but then add to that the level above the fusion, and below….and then of course the T1, and T2.  Talk about a pain in the neck!! 

So…..now we move on to the medieval torture.  I get to have an EMG  – a test performed by a Neurologist where he puts needles under my skin, and then proceeds to zap me with electricity to see how the nerves react.  I can tell you how ONE PARTICULAR nerve – my last one I am sure will be reacting!!!

In the mean time, Houston, I am thankful for the wonderful news of today.  It is one less thing for this Doll to deal with.

My Dinners With Jack May 19, 2010

When it comes to the in-laws, The Doll hit a royal flush when the cards were shuffled and dealt.  My father in law, Jack – A.K.A., “His Royal Highness,” – and to save space we will just go with “HRH” – and his lovely bride, and my husband’s “bonus mother” whom HRH lovingly refers to as, “The Chairman of The Board.”

I have always enjoyed going to dinners at my in-laws house.  My father in-law will be 86 on his next birthday, and although his sons and wife have heard all of his stories – some MANY times over - I never grow tired of listening to a good story-teller spin a long tangled yarn!  So, when dinner winds down, and HRH has launched into one of his fabulous tales from his youth, everyone always slips away from the table leaving me to be the only member of his listening audience.   What the others don’t know, is that we have been waiting for them to leave, because this is our time.

HRH and The Doll always have their best conversations at the dinner table when everyone else has high tailed it out of the dining room to go veg in front of the tv.  Tonight was no exception.  The Chairman lost her middle child almost a year and a half ago.   “Mikey” died in his sleep on his mother’s birthday, and about a week after he had turned 41.  Before his death, he too would have been invited to come for dinner.  Now there always seems to be an empty chair where he should have been.  I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that when our chat started, it was about “Mikey.”  HRH is still hurting, as we all are.  As his step-father, HRH has guilt about not being more insistent about “Mikey” seeking medical attention, or taking better care of himself.  I know exactly how he feels.

The last time I saw “Mikey,” was a couple of days before Thanksgiving.  We have, for the last 8-9 years always had a “pre-Thanksgiving” dinner at HRH’s house the Sunday before the actual holiday.  That way, we get to spend time together, there is no holiday stress because then each family does their own tradition, and most importantly – HRH gets his own leftovers!!

That last time…”Mikey” was short of breath just sitting in a chair.  He was sweating, his heart rate was all over the place.  I wanted him to go to the hospital, but he refused.  I asked him to call me at the office in the morning – I would see if one of my docs could see him.  He didn’t call.  I called The Chairman and got his number and called him.  We had a crazy volley going back and forth – me saying get your ass in here, he responding that he would come, and then his mother calling to say he wasn’t.  The Doll is NOT accustomed to people NOT listening to her.  Finally – I got pissed!  I flat-out said, “Mikey, if you fucking die on me I am going to be so pissed at you!!!!”  Those were the last words I said to my beloved brother-in-law.  He was dead in less than two weeks.

What I shared with HRH this evening was that this afternoon, as I was sitting at my desk, a warmth came over me, and I knew Matt was saying hello.  I knew he was aware that I would be seeing his mother and step father tonight, and he wanted to be a part of it.  My father-in-law has a pretty wide open belief system, because he didn’t even blink when I said that.  He just nodded.  He seemed pleased, relieved…it is hard to explain.  But that’s the great thing about my talks after dinner with Jack.  You never know where the conversation may go, but no topic is ever off-limits, there is no judging – ever, and I always consider our chats sweeter than any dessert The Chairman could ever dish up.

Care to throw yet another iron in the fire? May 22, 2010

I always LOVED watching Gilda playing Roseanne Roseannadana, because her opening line of, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another” could be my life on any given day!  

As luck – or life would have it, I have got too many things going on, too many decisions to be made, and too many irons on the fire.  I know that not everything needs to be decided today….but…The Doll does like to come to the party prepared for anything.

Those of you who have been following my eternal bouncing ball of a life can attest to the fact that things have gotten a bit hectic as of late.  I have been dealing with on-going neck injury issues, dahlia season is upon us, my practice is about to change ships yet again, and I have been trying to save every vacation day for a long-planned trip east to attend the Bat Mitzvah of a daughter of one of my oldest and dearest friends this coming October.

Thursday it was announced that the docs were, “this close,” to signing an agreement to changing the ownership of the practice.  Once the paperwork is “in the works” so to speak, we will see a transition finalize in late September, or early October.  That means, we all start over at ground zero as far as vacation and sick leave goes because we will be new employees.  We get a pay out from our old bank, but essentially we are still starting over.

Thursday’s news kind of puts a crimp in my summer plans.  For the past several summers, I have grown and shown dahlias in many local dahlia shows.  If I am going to be starting over with a new employer in October, and my surgery/leave will depend on the outcome of my opening my L&I claim with my current employer, it stands to reason that The Doll will more than likely need to consider having her surgery this summer – thus cancelling out participating in this season’s dahlia shows, and – more importantly…..not planning on taking that trip east for the Bat Mitzvah celebration!  The trip east is the one thing that I was truly hoping to still be able to do, so I am feeling completely deflated about that.

                                                                                                                                                                              

Both my Neurosurgeon and my PCP have advised me not to wait too much longer to get things moving in the surgical direction, as my symptoms will only get worse as the weeks go by.  It is with that in mind, that I have my EMG planned for the 3rd of June, and then will head back to my surgeon’s office to hear just what kind of surgical plan he has come up with.  I tell ya…if it’s not one thing, it is another!!!  I honestly don’t think The Doll can handle yet another iron on this particular fire – it is getting a tad too hot in this kitchen as it is!

The Count Down Starts….. May 23, 2010

The count down to when The Big Guy heads north to Alaska actually started a week ago, but now that we are down to four days, the clock has started in earnest!  Starting the week before he takes off, he starts going over everything….and I DO mean everything!!!

The ritual is the same, only the dialogue gets a slightly different spin each year.  The poor lad!  Half the time I can hardly tell if he is talking out loud to himself, or talking to me.  That usually gets cleared up when I give him a look that says, “Are you even speaking English anymore??”

I think that he is a little more nervous leaving me this year because we have no children at home anymore, so I will truly be “on my own,” and my personal health has not been exactly stellar.   My older son is currently living in the area he will be visiting, although I don’t know if they will be seeing each other – and that is up to them!  I am doing my part of letting go – by NOT butting in.    My younger son does live nearby, and he has been invited for dinner while The Big Guy is away, perhaps on Thursdays so he can take the garbage cans up to the top of the driveway!

I have found, like a typical man, if he tells me whatever….then it is off  his mind, off  his “check-off  list,” and then he doesn’t have to worry about it.  I find that as the count down starts, the roles are almost reversed.  He is constantly popping off with something that just appeared in his head, and I have become “the yes man!”   I know that I have the reputation of having a near-photographic memory, but really!!  I think he is giving me way too much credit!  So it is much easier to just say, “uhuh, mmhum, yes dear, ok, did you write that down?”   It’s not like we won’t be in touch the entire time he is gone for crying out loud!  

He really is a very thoughtful man.  When he did the grocery shopping on Friday, (yes – he does the shopping for us!!)  he made sure he bought extra cat food, and frozen things for me to pop in the oven or microwave when I get home, so I won’t have to lug heavy things into the house from the grocery store.  I will admit that I will miss having my dinner ready when I walk in the door, but as my dear friend, Mrs. Kissinger, pointed out  to Flo from the float pool, I am a very capable cook on my own!  To be honest, sometimes a bowl of Special K is just what The Doll adores, so I tend to actually lose a few of those pesky pounds while The Big Guy is away!

So, four days and counting.  We will see if I can keep my rocket fuel in check as he runs through his “check-off” list, without him getting on my “you’re pissing me off” list!!   Four, three, two, one……. 

Picking Derby Names With Pooks May 24, 2010

Ivana Spanking…..Robin Drugstores….Holly Hangnail….Kandy Warhol…..Betty Spankster…..Bia Gressive…..Mandi-Tori Sentence…. 

Ok….you know you have either hit rock bottom, or you have been home sick one too many days, when you start thinking up the most awesome Roller Derby names over Skype with your cousin in Brazil!

Pooks and I spent – over the course of two separate Skype IM’d conversations – just about three hours cracking each other up by thinking of the most interesting/hilarious sounding Roller Derby names!  She truly has a genuine talent for thinking up these names!!  We were making each other laugh sooo hard, I thought either she or I might, “Nida Depends!!”

Last year, before Pooks was seriously considering moving to Brazil, she and I had a conversation about her trying out for the Roller Derby.  I grew up in Philadelphia.  The Derby is to Philly, like pastrami is to rye….like blueberry is to blintz, like cheese steak is to Pat’s – or Gino’s depending on where your loyalty or taste buds reign!  Unfortunately, the week the Derby was having their auditions, she was in Rio (unbeknownst to moi’!!)  making her final arrangements to move there!!  So my quest has started anew, this time it will be Pooks bringing the Derby to Rio!!!!  You can take a girl outta Philly, but you can’t take the Derby outta the Brallin Bytch!

Our story begins in Rio, where Pooks is playing “Kandy Warhol”, demure art gallery clerk by day, sucker punching, kidney kicking, Derby Chica extraordinaire, ”Greta Gore” by night!

The task that I bring before you – my loyal flock – is to not only come up with Derby names for The Doll and her fun-loving side kick/crazy cousin Pooks….but you also have to describe what our outfits would look like!  In the world of Derby, your Derby costume always has to mirror your Derby name.

So, rat your ringlets, rip your fishnets, and put your Derby helmet/thinking cap on, and show us what youz gots bitches!!! 

Muffin, Muffin, What’s up with the Muffin?? May 25, 2010

I was cleaning up the kitchen this evening, and The Big Guy starts this interesting discussion from his perch on the couch in the sun porch.  Before I venture any further with this post, I feel I owe it to my beloved readers to once again remind you of The Doll’s disclaimer:  I may feel compelled to ask you a question, but you do NOT have to respond.  Just because I bring something up, does not mean I agree with it….if I do, trust me – you will know it – without a doubt!!!  OH!  And here is another thing…The Big Guy is ten years older than The Doll, and he is just starting to enter curmudgeonville – in other words…he is starting to sound like his father who is almost 86!!  So – keep that in mind as we work through this fluffy topic!

 

So, The Big Guy went shopping today, and while he was at the store, several kids from the nearby High School came in to grab lunch, and he was…..er…a little appalled at the attire of one of the young gals !  She (according to him)  was a little on the “large and in charge” size, and she was wearing a very short skirt… a muffin exposing shirt….and ….Ugg slippers!

Now, The Doll is all for comfort in the classroom, but come on!!!!  At the risk of joining my beloved in the “old fogey” category of this episode of “Family Feud,” I am at a loss to explain to him why it is that younger gals these days have no problem with letting their muffin top out all over the place!!    

I am not a prude…I am all for shaking what the good Lord gave ya honey…but what I don’t understand, and what I

could not find the words to explain to The Big Guy, is this…..don’t they ever feel self-conscious?  I mean….when I was in school…and I was under 115 pounds….my hips and thighs were still my biggest problem area.  And TRUST me!!!!   I did everything I possibly could to cover my detractors before I went anywhere!!   

When did it become fashionable to wear clothes that didn’t make you look fabulous?  When did women turn the fashion world on its head, and say, “I don’t care if it doesn’t fit, I am wearing it!!”

So, I would really like to know….is this a trend?  Is this just people feeling really comfortable in their skin????  I would like to know, not only for myself, but I’ve got an old dude I am trying to explain this to….SO …..What’s up with the muffin??                                                                                      

  

  

                                                                                                                                                                                                

  

                      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                                                                                    

 

  

Tonight’s Forecast: Cloudy,With A Chance Of PopCorn May 27, 2010

The Big Guy leaves on Holiday this morning.  Tonight, The Doll’s unofficial Holiday begins, and I predict there is a Pagliacci Pizza with her name on it, with perhaps a nice glass of Menage a Trois (The WINE, darling….get your mind out of that lovely gutter you’ve tumbled into!!)

He has managed to clutter up my poor foggy brain with all sorts of last-minute, “oh – don’t forget to put the garbage cans out on Thursdays….should I write you a note?”  – YEAH!!  That would be friggin’ grand!!!

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again……SEPARATE VACATIONS!!  You can thank me later darling!!  I am looking forward to SILENCE…….although I know I am in for at least the occasional meow, hiss, or even some gargling sounding yowling if Petey gets hold of that toy chipmunk and starts packing it around the house, looking as if he just got home from a successful hunting trip!!  Typical guy….have to pat him on the head, tell him what a wonderful hunter he is, and praise him for bringing me the big bad chipmunk!

I hope I have not left you with the impression that I don’t love The Big Guy.  It is just that time of year….he gets itchy to go fishing, and I get itchy to have him gone for two and a half weeks!! 

Itchy or not, pizza….or cereal, treadmill or bubble bath, the house is my oyster for two and a half weeks – and THAT is the closest this Doll is getting to an actual mollusk!!  (Or any other fish type thing for that matter!!)

One thing that is for certain here in Casa de Doll this evening?  It’s gonna be cloudy, with a chance of popcorn for my first official evening flying solo!

Who’s The Hootchie Mama??!! May 28, 2010

    

There’s a new girl in town, and she’s hotter than the molten cheese on my Pagliacci pizza  scalding the hell out of the roof of my mouth!!  Mrs. Kissinger spied this little piece of eye candy/hootchie mama heaven out of our big picture window at the office.   

We have no idea who she is, and we don’t have a clue where she works, but WHEW!!!  Girlfriend knows how to WORK IT!!!!!   

Mrs. K.  and I are completely intrigued by our new visual pastime.  She arrives at different times of the work day - seriously decked out to the hilt, and working it like she is on the catwalk in Milan!  In fact, Mrs. K. caught this slinky minx enjoying her own impressive reflection when they both were walking across the glass enclosed sky bridge on campus.  According to Mrs. Kissinger, Miss Thang could not take her eyes off of herself the whole time!!!!   

Don’t get The Doll wrong – my intent is not to be catty!  As a woman, I can certainly appreciate it when I see another woman who takes very good care of her physical appearance!  Mrs. K. is totally enamored by “Hootchie Girl’s” mile long eyelashes, while I keep hearing the Isley Brothers “Who’s that Lady” playing in my head every time I see this gal sashaying her way across the parking lot!  I swear, if she ever gets tired of whatever it is that she does currently for a living, she could be a Japanese version of Charo!   

One thing I have noticed, Miss Hootchie looks perpetually pissed!!!  Perhaps she thinks she is wearing the “haute couture” Milan Mask so many of the models of today don while strutting their stuff on the runway – but something is lost in translation when attempted by an amateur strolling into the workplace.   

The Doll has a message for you Hootchie Girl:  Take a tip from Mary Tyler Moore….”You can turn the world on with a smile!!”   

The Musings Of An Insomniac May 29, 2010

“Behave yourself while I’m gone….”  Famous last words from The Big Guy before he left on his annual pilgrimage.  Sometimes I think that boy doesn’t trust his beloved Doll!  What kind of shenanigans does he think I can really get into anyway?   What am I thinking?  He knows me all too well!   

I have had insomnia for as long as I can remember, and with The Big Guy away, and I have more room to play, I find it that much harder to go to bed because I have too much fun in my head to settle down.

I only wish the weather would be a tad more accommodating!  My beloved gardens keep trying to tell me it is almost summer, but here in the lovely Pacific NW, we seem to be stuck in a perpetual state of November!  The Doll actually donned a turtle neck, leather boots, and a cardigan today – can you believe that??!!  I felt rather foolish in my autumnal chic couture until I realized that I was not alone in my fashion schizophrenic state.

It appears that local dogs are feeling the need to keep their tre’s chic capes, caps, and sweaters out of the moth balls this spring too!  Every where I look, I see pet owners out for their daily constitutional with their four-legged companions, and they (the dogs)  are still wearing their brightly colored sweaters, over-coats, and smart-looking hats.

Business must be booming at Petco!  I had no idea that doggy couture was such a hot ticket item!  Don’t dogs have a built-in fur coat?  When did it become such a passionate past-time to dress our pooches up in pastels and Burberry?  Do you ever wonder, as The Doll is finding she is, what on earth these pooches  think about this whole phenomena?  

Do you think, by chance, that they are hoping they don’t run into a peer while out with their person, and just pray that they aren’t harassed for wearing a flippin’ coat – or even more horrific – they find themselves running into five buddies at the dog park, and they are wearing the same outfit!!!!   Can you imagine the conversation?  “Oh hi Pippy!  Love the neon orange cape!!!  (Bitch)  I wish our peeps would chat before picking out our play date outfits!!!  It is so embarrassing showing up here and finding you are wearing my couture choice!!!”  “I have NO idea what you are talking about Penelope!  (Alpo addict!!)  I have it on record that my human purchased this for me weeks before - yours obviously COPIED our impeccable taste!!”  Can you say “awkward dog walk moment??”

Good Lord, the things that run through my mind in the wee hours of the morning.  Perhaps I should try to lay my insomniac head down and pray for some shut-eye before the chirping birds keep me up well into the day.

Pain and Plans…. June 20, 2010

When you suffer from chronic pain, making plans with people can be a huge undertaking!  I SO ENJOY getting together with people, but I can never tell what each day will bring.  I have gotten to the point where I almost cringe when I receive an invite to anything…..because I hate to disappoint anyone.

I also hate giving in to the pain, it’s like letting pain win this battle it has been raging against my body.  Every time I take a pass on a party, I feel guilty, I feel weak….and I worry that with each get together that I don’t attend, my name will be pushed further and further down on the invitation list, until one day *poof* I will disappear from everyone’s party lists…and everyone’s memories for that matter!

This weekend, (case in point)  I had an invitation to a dear friend’s 50th birthday party on Saturday night.  Saturdays are very problematic for me.   The work week wears on me mind, body, and soul.  I ache clear to my marrow by Friday night, so I usually use Saturday literally as my “day of rest.”  It is my day to stay in my sweats, and give in to my pain without having to bother anyone else.  I am ever so grateful that TBG works on Saturdays, and he is a very understanding soul…never expecting me to make a very difficult dinner for him – just in case I have had “one of those days.”  I decided to go and have my nails done, and then I would decide about the party after my nail appointment.

I barely made it through my nail appointment.  I even had a paraffin treatment on my hands, praying that the deep heat treatment would somehow infuse me with the party spirit.  As I sat there with the paraffin encasing my aching hands, and I was wearing the fun little pot holders they place on  your hands to keep the heat in, I started day dreaming about soaking in a hot tub filled with paraffin.  Oh, how I longed for the days when pain did not enter into the equation when making plans.

I ended up going home, taking a pain pill, and skipping the party.  We were expected at TBG’s Dad’s house Sunday, and I really didn’t think I had it in me to try to attend both social functions.  Never in a million years did The Doll EVER expect to have anything remotely close to that come out of my mouth!!!

Sunday morning, pain decided not to loosen its horrific grip on me, but I was not about to give in twice in one weekend!   We were to arrive between 3 and 4 o’clock, and though it took The Doll three hours to shower and dress, all the while fighting off the urge to jump back into my sweats and beg off going because the pain was too great, I pushed on.  

Although The Doll was only able to make it for roughly three hours through the gathering - I made it!!!  I triumphed over pain at least for three hours today!  I felt like I had run a marathon!  Tomorrow, back to work, and my ongoing game of tug-of-war between me and pain starts anew.

The Big Dip June 2, 2010

                                                                                                                                                         

Funny how people can run across your mind’s eye like an old-fashioned news reel.  You can be going about your day, and for some unknown reason, fffffffffffffffttttttttttttt – some person or scene flies on by!!  Every once in a while, the reel slows down just enough for you to fully grasp who or what your subconscious mind was trying to tell you.

This morning, I had one of those “News Reel” moments.  I was recently contacted by several old friends from my elementary school days, and it got me reminiscing about my first serious childhood crush.  Now, most crushes, I think, usually run their course within a mere few weeks or months at the very most at that tender age of eight or nine.  The Doll, however; is never one to do things half-ass!!  My crush lasted no less than five years!

Michael P.  (Just in case someone who knows him reads this, I have decided to not publish his full last name)  stole my heart from the moment he walked into Miss Folkrod’s 3rd grade class and took his seat – which was at the perfect gawking angle from mine.  He had a long slender build, always dressed very neatly and conservatively, had beautiful brown hair that always seemed to fall over one eye, and the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.  (he never required braces!)

He was a well-behaved thoughtful Catholic boy, and perhaps that is why things never could get serious between us.  Not that I had a thing for the bad boys even in the 3rd grade, but me being a Jewish girl, it appears we were star-crossed lovers from the beginning!  But oh!  Could that boy flirt!  He had the most intense eyes – one pupil had been damaged when he was very young, so it was always dilated, and a little elongated only adding more to his school-boy charm.    

The News Reel wiiiiiirrrrrrrsssssss along, fast forwarding through Mrs. Yost’s fourth grade, and her fifth grade as well….(we had her two years in a row.)  Mr. Servetnick’s sixth grade class….and then we wind our way through Junior High.  All the while, Michael P. held a piece of my non Shiksa heart.

As luck and life would have it, my days of pining for Michael P. would draw to a close at the end of the school year in the eighth grade.  I had already announced (and cried) to everyone I knew that my mother would be moving our family 3,000 miles away to Seattle, WA., and we would be leaving as soon as summer camp was over.  And so it was, on the last day of the eighth grade, that I asked for a hall pass to go to the ladies room during 5th period math.  I was walking down the hall, when I heard my name being called.  I whirled around, and there he was.  Sauntering towards me in a casual  self-assured manner, wearing the boyish grin that had melted my heart for all those many years.  He stopped in front of me, looked deep into my eyes, and said, “Is is true you are moving to Seattle at the end of the summer?”  I said, “yes – unfortunately, it is true.”

The hallway was completely silent except for the deafening pounding of my heart – which all but stopped when he deftly said, “Well then, I guess I better give you something to remember me by!”  With that, he took me in his arms, dipped me back, and gave me the most romantic kiss I believe EVER to have been bestowed on a fourteen year old girl.  It was just like that famous picture of the sailor kissing that nurse at the end of the war!!!  And then just like that – poof – it was over…..he walked on down the hall, looking back once, and giving me that dashing grin one last time.    It was the last time I ever saw him, but ooooohhh boy!  What a lasting impression!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

  

Bottom’s Up, With Ol’ Bombay June 5, 2010

Last night, The Doll had a “moment.”  It doesn’t happen often, so when it does, I know that the best thing I can do, is to just give in and get it over with!            

Thursday, I went in for my nerve conduction test to try to determine what nerves are being effected by my herniated cervical discs.  That test is not for people who have a low threshold for pain.  I have a fairly high tolerance for pain, and I still required a generous dose of Valium just to keep me calm enough so I could get through it without wanting to get up off of the exam table and bitch slap someone!  The test involves the Neurologist inserting needles deep into the muscles he is studying, and then zapping you with electricity to see how your nerves react.  I can tell you how one nerve in particular reacted, cause he was hitting my last raw one!!

Truth be told, the only thing that saved that poor man, was the fact that he was a total hottie, and a fabulous conversationalist!   The whole time I was being subjected to this electrical ordeal, I had visions of torture chambers in Vietnam and dungeons far underground where no one can hear you scream.  Some mad man must have dreamed up this  modern-day version of “The Rack,” because what person in their right mind would think that putting a person who is already in chronic pain would be able to withstand being made to undergo this tortuous exam! 

So, after a difficult day at the office, The Doll came home, and did what any woman on the verge of yet another serious surgery  would do - I got out my cocktail shaker, and my Bombay Sapphire Gin, and made myself two very dry deliciously icy cold martinis.  I got out two different types of olives – one stuffed with blue cheese, and one with pimento, and plunked them into a small dish filled with ice and Vermouth, pierced them with picks, (and once again was reminded of my own flesh being pierced with needles)  and then kept replacing the empty picks in my glass as I made my way through the soothing elixir.

                                                                                                                                                                                                        

I had just finished the first one when my phone rang, and saw it was The Big Guy calling from Alaska where he is on holiday.  I answered, sounding a little glum…and perhaps a little buzzed.  He asked what I was doing, and when I confessed what I was up to he got a little concerned…usually The Doll does not imbibe alone.  I reminded him that I had my test on Thursday, and he said, “Ut oh, is everything all right??”  When I told him no…he asked, “Is it worse than we thought?” When I replied yes, he said, “Oh honey!  I am so sorry I am not there to comfort you!  I know how you get after a couple of those tinis - sorry I’m not there to give ya a good screw!”  Oy Vey!!  I really do believe that men do not have the ability to go more than a minute or two without thinking of sex!  Oh – ALL RIGHT!  Since I am confessing everything else, I’ll admit that if he had been here, it would have been a very nice additional distraction to have him completely ravish me while in a dreamy state of minor intoxication!

There ya have it.  The Doll’s confession en total.  I didn’t have my beloved Big Guy physically here to lend a shoulder to cry on, but I had the promise from him that upon his return, and for however long it takes to recover from this latest round of physical debility, he would be there for me emotionally and physically.  Until then, Ol’ Bombay is available to at least momentarily whisk me away mentally from the thoughts that crowd my mind of the impending pain and recuperation.  Thank goodness I don’t regularly rely on liquer…oh – it does satisfy if only briefly, but I am thankful for good friends, and a supportive spousal unit to see me through in my times of despair.  The Doll is one lucky gal.       

The Winds of Change June 8, 2010

Change is a funny thing.  The word alone can send a shock wave through an entire country when a new person takes office, or when a national tragedy occurs.  It can rock a corporation, or bring it to its knees.  It can bring a much awaited baby to a loving family, or it can take an entire generation in the time it takes for a tornado to blow through town.

Lots of changes seem to be blowing in the wind.  I can feel it tickling my arms like the electrical currents that run along my damaged nerves.  It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and pay attention.   It is all around me like a whipping sand storm that won’t settle down.  As much as I don’t want to deal with change, it doesn’t like to be ignored.  The more I try to side-step change, it throws more sand in my mouth like a bad day at the beach!

The Doll is facing many decisions.  None of them are easy, none of them are fun, all of them bring a sense of unease, insomnia, and even a small dose of dread for good measure.  I don’t like unrest in my world.  But, from past experience, I know that sometimes we get too comfortable in our mundane day-to-day lives – and the universe decides it is time for a good shake up.  It never asks us if we want one, never inquires if this is a good time for us….it doesn’t want our opinion, it just does what it wants, and we are left to make sense of the jigsaw puzzle pieces of our lives set before us. 

As much as I like a new challenge, and am quite good at putting puzzle pieces together, the winds of change keep blowing my blasted puzzle pieces all over the place.  Just when I get use to seeing the puzzle from one angle, the next time I sit down to work the puzzle again, none of it looks the same as before.  Big chunks are missing, all the corner pieces I so carefully laid out have been scattered again, and in their place are all the dreaded middle pieces that all look the same, but have slight variations in their cut and size.  No matter how hard I try to squeeze them together, the fit is just ever so slightly “off kilter.”

THAT is the perfect way to describe the way The Doll feels right now in my own personal hell of a windstorm…”off kilter.”  Life seems to have landed me on some crazed tilt a whirl.  Anybody got a Dramamine?

Attack of the Sanity Snatchers June 10, 2010

After two nights of no sleep, The Doll’s nerves were already worn thin enough that it wouldn’t take much to push her to the point of no return.  As I was driving home in-between torrents of rain, I toyed with the notion of trying to get out in my yard and plant a few more of my dahlia tubers before the next storm hit.  As I have shared before, my garden is my own form of therapy, and I was in desperate need of session.

As I opened my car door, the first wave hits me with the force of  an M-80!  SHIT!!!!  The kids next door were once again on their trampoline screaming at the top of their lungs at one another!   When all three are on that thing together, it is absolutely, positively, clinically IMPOSSIBLE for them to go longer than one minute before the first fight breaks out, or someone doesn’t play fair, or someone gets hurt, and then the SCREAMING commences.  My already precariously perched spirits immediately started to teeter over to the pissy end of the teeter totter, and I found myself muttering under my breath as I headed up the drive to my front door, “Oh for the love of Pete, would you just shut the fuck up!!!”

Even if I didn’t get any new plants in the ground, I knew I at the very least needed to check on the ones all ready planted, as we have had so much rain lately, (In Seattle?  Really??  I’m SHOCKED)  and the slugs have been moving in like slimy settlers, and I needed to re-apply the slug bait.  I went out the back door, and spent a little time giving some love and attention to Buddy – my “porch cat” who had at one time been a pet to the kids next door.  They, however; kept getting dog after dog – one of which had been a bit rough on the poor guy, and he finally had enough of all the canine over-population, flipped his family “the paw,” jumped the fence and never looked back!  That is how “Bobby Z” came to live on my porch, and was dubbed “Buddy” by me and The Big Guy because our male cat always looked for him out the window and we always said, “there’s Petey’s Buddy!”

The Budster and I headed down to the yard, where he made it very clear he wasn’t quite finished getting his ears scratched, and kept attacking my ankles so I would have to stop walking to bend down and scold him and then he would walk his front paws up my leg in order to make his desires a little more clear.  Then the chorus started….”Hi Doll!  Oh hey Doll!!  Look it’s The Doll – and Bobby Z!!!  Stupid – his name isn’t Bobby Z anymore – it’s Buddy, remember??!!”

Buddy gets very nervous when he hears those kids, because I think he fears they will come over and try to take him back over there, so he stayed back aways allowing me to head over to the dahlia patches unescorted.  I was just finishing applying the bait to the last dahlia, when I happened to glance across the yard and saw a raccoon coming over the fence.  Buddy took off like a bat out of hell, and chased him into the next yard!  The kids cheered like they were at a mariners game, and started clambering at the fence to get a better view.  I went tearing across the yard to try to get Buddy back – fearing that the raccoon would turn on him, and I didn’t want to have to try to break up that kind of cat fight!  I needn’t have worried!  The next thing I knew, the raccoon was back over into my yard with Buddy in hot pursuit!  He was right on that critter’s tail, and chased him straight up a tree!  The crowd went wild!

“I can help you if you want, I’ve got my BB gun!”  I spun around, and there stood the oldest boy behind me – in my yard!  “Um, no thanks – (I stammered, trying like mad to figure out how he had snuck up on me)  it’ll go away as soon as I get Buddy in the house.”  That’s when I glance over at the trampoline, and saw it was now empty!!!  “Are they coming over here too??!!”  My question was quickly answered by the appearance of his younger brother and sister.  The Doll’s domain and inner sanctum was now completely over-run with chattering rug-rats!  The girl started pummeling me non-stop with questions, which even on a good day is hard for me to take because the very sound of her voice just about makes The Doll’s ears bleed!

I got Buddy back up the stairs, and told them the show was over and they should head on back to their side of the fence, but they were hoping the game was going into over-time!  I grabbed Buddy’s bowl, went inside, and shooed my three cats out of the sun porch where they had been perched in the windows watching the commotion from the safety of the window sill, and shut the door so I could let Buddy inside for a bit of a break.  In the time it took me to do that, the uninvited had advanced up the stairs!!!   ”Can I come in your house??” Screeched the girl.  “Not today dear, The Doll just got home, and I think I have had enough excitement for one evening!  Head on home now, Buddy is going to come in for a bit too until the raccoon leaves.”  With that, I grabbed the cat, and shut the door.  A few minutes later, I could hear them!!  They were still at the bottom of my back stairs watching the raccoon up in the tree, and hoping I would appear for a curtain call!  I felt like the zombies were just outside my door waiting to gnaw on my lovely flesh!  Gathering what was left of my sanity, and pushing my temper back down to simmer, I rapped on my window, and pointed them back over in the direction of their own yard.  Thank God they took the hint, because I couldn’t remember the rules for repelling zombie children, and I didn’t feel like being eaten alive!   I settled in for the next couple of hours to watch a bit of tv with Buddy snoozing happily behind my head in the big chair.  Peace at last!   

Simmering and Stewing, and Reaching my Boiling Point June 13, 2010

The Doll’s mood has been at a simmering level for several days now, as I have been stewing over a quandary, and I don’t know quite how to handle it.  But since The Big Guy will be returning from holiday in a mere few hours, I thought I should at least write about it so I don’t blow his head off the minute he walks through the door.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, my older son moved to Juneau four months ago.  This is the same area that my brother-in-law lives, and where The big guy goes on holiday every summer.  In the four months that my son has been in town, my brother-in-law  (Let’s call him “Bland!”)  has never once met my son for a cup of coffee, (even though Nick offered to buy) never invited him over for a nice home cooked meal, never checked to see if by chance he wanted to join the family for a boat ride, never asked if there was anything he might possibly need.

This behavior I would kind of expect from Bland, because he is the most selfish person I have ever met.  When he calls, it is only to ask The Big Guy for something.  When he is down here, his brother drops anything and everything he is doing to schlep his ass all over hell and back on his gas dime.  BUT – I never expected that my husband would treat my child with the same disregard!!!

My son texted me a couple of days ago because he had left several messages for his step father, and all had gone unanswered.  He wanted to know what he had done to piss him off.   The whole scenario reminded me of the way the communication has been in my house the whole time the boys were growing up.  The kids would tell me stuff that they were pissed off about The Big Guy, and he would complain to me about the shit the kids were not doing, but they wouldn’t ever talk to each other!!!

Breaking my own personal oath of “letting go,” I left a message on The Big Guy’s cellie that Nick had been trying to get hold of him to return a leather carry all that he had loaned him for his trip up there.  And – I added my own two cents in for good measure – that I thought it would be rude of him not to even see him being that he was all the way up there!!  I also stated that I could understand Bland not seeing him, but it wouldn’t be hard to borrow a car, and go see his step son for a few minutes!  

When I spoke to my son later that night, I was appalled to hear that although my husband had finally returned Nick’s call, he basically blew him off.  He told Nick to keep the bag, as he felt he needed it more than him, and also passed on Nick’s offer to buy him a burger or pizza, saying he didn’t need to do that.  He said, “Hey we have each other’s numbers, it’s not like we don’t know where each other is, so we’ll see ya.”

What the fuck was that all about??!!  And more to the point…what the fuck is The Doll to do with THAT??  Forget for a minute that this is my child we are talking about…this is a human being!!  This is a person with feelings, who is alone, who is thousands of mile from everyone and everything he has ever known…living in a tent for gosh sakes!!!  A little human compassion, and a little kindness goes a long way.  My husband not only blew him off, he blew it, and he blew it BIG TIME!! 

The Doll just need to figure out what to do before the lid blows off her top!  As always, I welcome feedback from my loyal flock.

Shutty the Pie Hole!!! June 16, 2010

Sometimes the best gift we can give ourselves is a big dose of “Shut the hell up!”  For someone who was born with the gift of gab, The Doll knows that this is not always an easy thing to do, but if you can just “shutty the pie hole” before you say something you will regret – you will be doing yourself a big favor! 

I posted on Sunday that I was stewing big time that The Big Guy (TBG)  had basically put the kibosh on seeing my son while he was on holiday in AK.  I am SO glad I decided to blog about my anger instead of blasting TBG the second he arrived home from the airport!

I am also tremendously grateful for my dear friend “Martipants.”  Marti graciously took the time to respond to my post, and in doing so, she not only saved me from having a complete meltdown, which of course I am very appreciative of, but more importantly – she saved me from having to swallow a huge piece of humble pie!!!  Thank you, darling! 

Marti gently reminded me that Nick is where he is because he wanted to go there.  It’s not as if we air lifted his ass out of here and plunked him down in the middle of some isolated Siberian prison.  She also suggested that perhaps TBG is just tapped out – he’s O.D.’d on Nick, and given the fact he was on holiday, he didn’t want to deal with potential drama.

That last sentence got me to thinking and reflecting back on our final encounter with the dear boy before he headed north.  Nick had really emphasized how much he was looking forward to spending the whole day with me, he even phoned me early that morning to re-confirm.  He was just waiting for his dad to get his ass in gear to drive him over.  I called back a couple of hours later, and he said his dad was drinking coffee and “puttering,” and he was thinking of walking over.

I made a big pot of beef stew, and went outside with TBG to plant some new items in our yard, and started to feel a little miffed.  By the time Nick’s dad pulled up to our house, it was almost 1:00 in the afternoon.  I heard my son let out a loud “Oh NO!” At the same time, I heard glass hit my driveway.  Putting down my gardening spade, I took a little stroll to the front of my house in time to see my son picking up the shards of glass from the beer bottle he had dropped.  I should have just told him to get back in the car and go back to his dad’s house.  Why didn’t I?? 

When Nick was in rehab last time, all the counselors told me I was a BIG TIME enabler!!!!  I guess this example just proves their point, but I just wanted to have a nice visit – who knew when we would see him again??  Nick spent the next 5 hours basically “sleeping it off,” and I spent that time intermittently trying to wake his drunk ass up, and getting progressively more pissed in the process!   It reminded me of when he lived with me, and all the times I was disappointed – either by his behavior, or my reaction to it.  I was starting to see why TBG didn’t want to take a chance seeing Nick…you never knew what you were going to get!

By the time I drove him back to his father’s house, I couldn’t get him out of the car fast enough!  I was so glad he was leaving, and so glad to have a nice long break from him, and all that being him entails!

I guess his absence does make the heart grow fonder….or, at the very least, gives a mother’s heart some short-term amnesia!  At any rate, The Doll is very glad I decided to zip the ol’ lip the other day….humble pie,for a tough tart like me, is a hard lesson to swallow! 

Bitch Slap The blues June 22, 2010

Have you ever gotten so sick and tired of being sick, and tired, and dealing with physical and emotional pain?  Have you ever needed to just have things be different – even for a brief moment?  Are the blues getting you down bunky?  Well, I say it is time for you to follow The Doll’s lead, and Bitch Slap the Blues right out of the ball park baby!!!

After the weekend I just had, spending the majority of my time off in a pain medication induced state of slumber, and not living my life, I had just about HAD IT!!  My body may not always be able to do what I want it to be able to do, but honey – there is nothing wrong with my wicked MIND!!!

I started thinking up all the interesting things I could do for a new hobby – thanks, and a big shout out to my cousin Pooks!!!!!!  Pooks always knows how to get me out of my funk, but more to the point – she knows how to get me out of my head, and start using it!  Smooches, baby Doll – you are so my girl!!!

Pooks thought I could make serious bank writing funny bumper stickers!  My personal fave:  Monday, Jane’s under study for ignorant slut.  And, of course, I can spend literally hours thinking up the perfect Roller Derby name! 

I also have a lot of fun writing my “status” every day…ok, sometimes several times a day…and I think I could write some cheeky and sassy new status sayings for the new “shuffle my status” program they have on Face Book.

Thank goodness for good friends, and family who are always there to remind me that although my physical afflictions may bring me down at times, and the constant pain may make me blue – nothing can keep this Doll down!

The Art Of Gratitude June 23, 2010

It’s been said that for someone to truly be an artist, one has to suffer.  To be a great actor, a person has to completely immerse themselves in the character, to actually be one with the person they are portraying.  The Doll has been giving it a lot of thought lately, and I have decided that with all the suffering I have been doing lately, I could either become a bitter and decrepid shut in – but in a classy sort of Miss Havisham (Great Expectations) kind of way, or I could immerse myself in the art of gratitude.

I think it is human nature to want to wallow.  It is so much easier to slip into that gooey sublime “poor me” bog than it is to pull oneself up by the boot straps and look around and truly see all the things they have and should be grateful for.  Especially since the economy has gone to the tank, The Doll has become painfully aware of not only how a person reacts to their own situation, but also how they treat others.  Often times the polite pleasantries go by the way side.  People forget to say “thank you.”

I think that “giving thanks” is an integral ingredient in the art of gratitude.  If someone extends you a kindness, and it was something that helped you in some way, or even if it just made you feel good, by acknowledging that person, and telling them how much it helped you, how much you needed to hear a kind word at that moment, it encourages that person to continue to find reasons to help others, and – maybe even help them look for areas in their own life to feel grateful about.  I know it gives my spirits a huge lift if I see a co-worker, and admire their outfit, or how they are wearing their hair, and I can see a change come over their faces, and they say, “boy did I need to hear that today – you have no idea!.”  No, The Doll certainly didn’t…but I can tell you this much…I sure am glad I took the few seconds that I did to connect with that person.  In that instant, we both got to experience the art of gratitude.

What Treasures Are In Your Gift Bag? June 26, 2010

The Doll has been giving this a lot of thought lately….is there a difference between skill, talent and gifts?  There appears to be a collective theme amongst the three, that being a natural or exceptional ability to do something well.  The differences seem small, minute even.  Talent is a natural ability to do something well, usually of the artistic nature,  skill is the ability to do something well, usually gained through training or experience.  A gift is a natural ability or talent that somebody appears to have been born with, especially an artistic ability, or social skill.  An example of this is:  a person who has the gift for making people feel at ease.

There is nothing The Doll loves more than having a beautiful gift set before her.  A gorgeous package all wrapped up with a pretty bow just waiting to be opened and enjoyed, and put to good use or shared.  Talents are also something I like to share.  I have a talent for making homemade toffee – a talent I have honed for about 25 years, and one I enjoy making especially at Christmas time.  Although it is a lot of work, there is nothing that pleases me more than to see someone I love take that first bite!

I don’t know if I totally agree with the definition of skill.  I think a person has to have some level or ability to do a task well in order for the skill they are training for to be a success.    Not every skill can be taught, I think you

have to have at least an inkling or some burning desire in the fiber of your being to excel at something.    There has to be a passion, a devotion involved.  A person can go to law school and be taught about law, but to be a truly great attorney, there must be drive!  There has to be a deep and abiding love and passion and understanding for upholding the letter of the law.

I also think that if you were born with a gift, is it really a gift if you don’t give it to someone else?  Is it polite to come to a party empty-handed?  The Doll would never dream of showing up to a social gathering without bringing something for the host or to share with the other party revellers! 

I would love to hear what your gifts are!  What is your God-given talent?  What were you born to do?  Don’t be shy!  Would it make you feel any better if I started the ball rolling?

I have the gift of gab, and I use that to engage people in conversation.  I use it to draw people out of  their shell and to interact with me and those around me.  I also have the ability to make people feel at ease, and because of that, people just naturally tell me things.  Lucky for them, I also am very good at keeping a secret.  So, go ahead….tell me your gift!  Show me what’s in your gift bag!  Let’s get this party started!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

You Can Ring My Bell (NOT!!) June 29, 2010

So, The Doll has an axe to grind, and since I was thinking of doing a lighter piece today – now is as good a time as any!

I have lived in the same house, and had the same land line number for over 23 years, and being The Doll, I have taken great care in how my out-going message is scripted on my voice mail.  Anybody Who calls my house and actually listens to the message, would have NO doubt – there would be absolutely NO question as to whose house you called. 

What I can’t stand, is when it is completely transparent the fact that someone is doing a “cold call.”  My full name is not printed in the phone book.  My number is listed with my first and middle initial, and my maiden last name.  So when I get a phone call asking for “Jason Gordon,” or “Jaime Gordon,” or even “Jackie Gordon” – I know that the personage on the other end of my phone cord has no fucking clue who “J L Gordon” is…their just hoping that they have finally found the person they are tracking, by calling every “initials only” phone number in the greater Seattle area!!

Just once, I would SO love to hit the cold calling douche with the old “Ernestine” line, “Have I reached the party to whom I am speaking?”  Or, say “hang on,” put the phone down, and not pick it back up!!

Lately though, the whole “cold call nightmare” has been stepped up a notch!  Now, I have to deal with computers cold calling my number, and – presumably because they don’t have the actual ability to listen to my outgoing phone message, so they can’t hear that the person breaking into the line now to leave a message is now going to be leaving a collection call on MY phone for someone I don’t even know!!!                                       First of all, how utterly mortifying!!!!  Second of all WTF????!!!!!

Somebody want to explain to me why it is that in the 21st century, companies cannot figure out a way to properly research whether or not they have actually reached the party they are looking for before they leave a recording on MY phone that I need to get in touch with “so and so” regarding my non-existant  bill with their company!!????

TBG doesn’t understand my angst over the whole message for the deadbeat left on our phone, and tells me  I just need to ignore them.  Easy for HIM to say – cause he DOES!!!  But if they don’t get a response, they just keep calling!  So – I get myself all wound up, and call them back to request my number be taken off of their records.  And next week it will be some other company, with some other Gordon, and the whole process will start all over again.  But it’s the principal of the thing, ya know??  Nobody sully’s MY family name all over town by not paying their bills, and then leaves me to deal with the bill collecting dogs nipping at my heals.  Next time they ring my bell, I may just ask them if I can call them back at their house during dinner!!

Day Tripper July 1, 2010

It was just another lovely day in paradise, and The Doll and Mrs. Kissinger were already not amused at the prospect of having to drive our already tired arses down south in the near vicinity of the airport for a coding seminar.  This was our second attempt at attending this particular class, our first was suspended an hour or two into the presentation when it became painfully obvious that the needed materials had not arrived  at our destination much to the consternation of our esteemed class lecturer.

So there we were, trying to look on the bright side of things – the fact that the weather did not suck was registering high on our ” 2 thumbs up” scale of day rating, and the traffic was actually moving along at a nice clip for that hour – another plus!   In retrospect, that should have been our first clue that things were going way too smooth!!

We had just taken the airport exit, and clicking along at a moderate speed with nary another driver in sight, the sun was shining, Mrs. K had just cranked a wicked tune on the car stereo, and she had just commented that we would arrive at our appointed destination ahead of schedule, when we blew past two state troopers hanging out - one parked in his car, and the other leaning casually against his car while holding what looked suspiciously like a hair dryer!!

We both kind of glanced curiously to our right, and Mrs. k said, “What’s going on over there?  What are they up to??”  I said, “Um, well…I could be wrong, but honey – I think you just got ‘gunned’!!”  “GUNNED, What??!!”  She cried.  “Uh – yeah, as in speed gun!!” I said.

Mrs. Kissinger glanced nervously in her review, and said, “Ut oh…I think he is going to pull me over!  Oh My God!  He is!!!  I’ve never been pulled over in my life!!!”  Well….hey – there’s always a first time!  So, she pulled the car over, and had me dig her registration out of her glove compartment while she rummaged through her hand bag for her license and proof of insurance – it can never hurt coming to class prepared, right??

Mr. Officer sauntered casually up to her window, and greeted her with a hearty “Good morning ladies!”  He was our own version of an Asian Eric Estrada!   Holy hot flash Batman!!  I said a quick prayer with the hope that in her nervous and delicate predicament, that Mrs. Kissinger didn’t say, “Good morning Oci-fer!!”  He asked for the usual accoutrements, gave them a quick survey, and asked if she was the registered owner etc…then with a smile he asked, “Now, you’re not a wanted felon are you?”  With a nervous giggle, Mrs. k stammered, “Not that I know of!!”  Oy!!  Now was  certainly not the time for her to try out her late night standup routine!!

The officer strolled back to his cruiser to get the low-down on Mrs. K illustrious and pure as the driven snow driving record, and left us to stew in our perfumed and hair sprayed juices.  I just had a feeling that if the good Mrs. K had never been pulled over before, and she had no outstanding warrants haunting her, then certainly our little Asian fusion Officer Ponch would let her off with a warning.  

After several moments spent bouncing back and forth between nervous laughter, and the two of us remarking about what a nice young man the officer was, and that he appeared to be in a very good mood this morning.  Silently I was thanking the good Lord above that Mrs. Kissinger had unzipped her cute little hoodie, thereby enabling the officer to get a close up of her lovely and ample decolletage!!                                         

A few minutes later, Mrs. Kissinger looked in her mirror again and said, “Ok – here he comes…and he’s whistling!!!”  “Ok, so – do you have a current registration, because this one is expired.”  I dug through the glove compartment one more time, and produced the requested document.   After checking to see that it had been signed, he said, “OK - slow it down, this area is 40 miles an hour…. and the officer clocked you going 54!!!    With that, he hands Mrs. K her license and insurance card, and said, “Have a nice day, I just saved you $160.00!!!”

We both re-paid the kindness by over-tipping our waitress at lunch that afternoon.  Hey – neither one of us wanted to piss off the guardian angels who were watching out for us – Karma’s a bitch!  

  

Work It Shaniqua! July 3, 2010

Before I get started on today’s post, The Doll feels the need to let her flock know that I am re-telling a story on behalf of my dear friend and co-worker – with her full permission and blessing – because this story had to be told!!!   I also need to tell my readers that I was not present at this function, so I am relaying the facts as I understood them at the time my friend told me the story the morning after.  Also, people who read my blog on a regular basis know that I am very fond of making up interesting “blog names” for people who are featured in my stories, so I let my friend pick out her own “blog name” for her character.  Ladies and gentlemen….meet “Shaniqua Moquin Jenkins!”

Several of the doctors in our practice were to be honored at a swanky cocktail party/dinner function, and Shaniqua was able to attend this event – which had been built up to be like the Oscars of Seattle’s physicians!

Since the party started at 6:00 on a Thursday night, Shaniqua could not go home after clinic to get changed, so she had planned ahead to change her clothes at work, and drive downtown with our coworker “Kiwi.”

After working all day, Shaniqua’s feet were a bit sore, so she had brought two pairs of shoes with her – just in case.  Kiwi, at the suggestion of Mrs. Kissinger, told Shaniqua that if they drove downtown with their shoes off, with the air conditioner blasting on their hot and tired feet, that the swelling would go down enough for them to wear their high heels.

So, there she was in the clinic bathroom, all dolled up in her finery – looking fierce - and she tries on the shoes meant to go with her outfit.  She took a few steps, and said, “Aw HELL No!!”    Thank God for the back up shoes!  All she had to do was make it to Kiwi’s car, and she could take them off.  So she pulls out the back up pair of sling backs, and slips the first one on – no problemo – then she puts the second one on, and just as she is pulling the strap over her heel - SNAP!!!!!  The flippin’ strap breaks!!!

Enter plan C.  She hobbles down to Kiwi’s office practically in tears, and ready to say ‘Fuck it’ to the whole evening – when Kiwi says, “hang on, we can still pull this off!  Let’s get to the car.”  Once they get to her car, Kiwi pulls out a roll of duct tape, and a black Sharpie, and goes to work fixing Miss Thang’s shoe!                                                                                                            

        So they make their way downtown, and the venue in relation to where they had to park requires crossing a very busy street.  For those who live outside of the greater Seattle area, you need to understand that failure to cross at either a traffic light, or other designated “cross walk” means you are literally putting your ass in jeopardy of being slapped with a Jay-walking ticket!!   Kiwi – who is in desperate need of learning how to break the rules, and feel comfortable with it, is all set to schlep all the way down the fucking block to cross at the light, Shaniqua was having none of  that!!!

She throws all caution to the wind, looks both ways, and steps off the curb to make a mad dash.  With that first leap, the tape snaps off, and Girl friend is left to limp across the road like she is a wounded runner at the end of a marathon!  With visions of cocktails dancing in her head, Shaniqua tried with all of her might to keep her eye on the liquid prize.  All she had to do was make it to that restaurant, and she could use her drink ticket to revive her spirits.    She crash lands through the front door, and gimps her way over to the front desk looking like she has just finished a five-hour ghetto runway photo shoot, and asks the guy at the front desk if he has any tape handy.  Door dude surveys the situation, tells Girlfriend to take a seat, and proceeds to attempt a staple job on the leather strap.  Do you see this working??  Yeah, not so much!!    Kiwi and Shaniqua had just finished patching up the tattered tape on the strap when who walks through the front door?  None other than home girl’s clinic side kick “Niecey Gnash!”

Niecey quickly surveyed the situation, and just like Mighty Mouse came up with a fab plan to ‘save the day!’  She rushed to Shaniqua’s side, and said, “Come on girl – don’t let a little thing like a broken strap get the best of you!!  You just stand tall, and walk into that dining room with all the attitude you can muster!!  No one will even notice your shoe if you don’t call attention to it!”  And with that, Shaniqua slipped on her hot mess of a shoe, and waltzed into that dinner party like she was Monique walking the red carpet at an Ezell’s  fried chicken opening!!  

Way to work it girl!!!  I’m proud of you!    But, um, next time – just stop off at one of those Value Shoe Source stores, and pick yourself up a cheap – but tasteful - pair of shoes, and save yourself from the agony of da feet!!

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy – Where Does It Come From? July 7, 2010

As many of you know, I am extremely close with my cousin Pooks – she is more like a sister to me really.  She is a wonderfully dynamic gal, who just this past February left her job working in the education field, sold her home, and moved to Brazil with her partner, H.

I feel The Doll disclaimer bubbling up inside me, so I had best throw it out to the flock now, while I still have a flock to throw to!!   Regardless of your belief system, I ask that you read this post with an open heart and mind.  I am not selling you anything, or blowing smoke up your skirts or trousers for that matter!   The Doll and Pooks touched on this briefly in the comments section a couple of weeks ago, when we were discussing my post about Gifts, talents, and skills – “What Treasures are in you Gift Bag?”  Pooks is an intuitive…..and so am I.  It does tend to run in families, we were just  not aware who might also have this gift in our family because we were too afraid to talk about it.   We stumbled upon our mutual gift 2 years ago when I was visiting her home over fourth of July.  She is now living her bliss in Brazil, and after years of study, she not only does readings for people, she has recently designed an online course with the famous psychic, Echo Bodine.   So, I have started studying as well, and Pooks has really helped me to understand about angels, guardian angels, spirit guides, and even Joy spirit guides.  Being an intuitive is not “white magic,” or “witchcraft,” or “evil.”   There are many, many biblical references to prophets, and when studying about this gift, it is stressed over and over again that you must ask that the messages you receive are from “the light” meaning from a good place, or the divine word of God.   So, Pooks and I discuss this kind of stuff hours on end, and it was during a recent conversation, when I mentioned I was a little blue, that the subject of Joy guides came up. I am sure it is totally non-PC in the “psychic world” – but The Doll has never been one to follow the rules to the very letter – so what the hell – I call them Joy fairies!!  I can almost hear them fluttering around my head, feeling a light breeze from their wings, and enjoying the sound of their “munchkin-esque” fairy giggle. I had said something to the effect of:  since I always have a lot to say, it seems only natural that my Guardian Angel would also be a total blabber mouth!  To which Pooks responded, “You are the funniest thing ever!!”  Since we were I-Ming over Skype, and she couldn’t actually hear me, she asked if I was laughing – which, of course I was!!!  She then said, “Good, it worked!  I sent you some Joy guides, to bring you some joy.   They are yours, and you can call upon them to bring you some joy any time you want.”

I guess “Joy Fairies” isn’t so bad.  When you think about it, people look to get joy or happiness from some of the strangest or superficial places like….Happy Hour! Gag gifts have even been developed to brighten up the cranky dank or sour pout out there….check out “The Happy Pill” –  We wish each other Happy New year,  we throw lovely birthday parties, and sing “Happy Birthday” to the person of honor,  and we even celebrate “All Hallow’s Eve”  And wish everyone a Happy Halloween!!  Does it really matter where your happiness and joy come from, as long as you have it in your heart?  So often, I see that people are kind of on a  treadmill to nowhere – they are just in this blah state of existence.  Can the human spirit really flourish and grow if it is not fed a continuous diet of joy and happiness?  I think people get into a kind of trap where they are trying to make everyone else around them happy…but they forget that they need to feed their own soul before they can share the bounty with those around them.  

Your state of happiness is important!  Having joy in your life should never be an after thought.  So, whether you derive pleasure, and joy from being with those you love, or going to Happy Hour brings you happiness, or you call upon your own personal Joy guides to spread a bit of sunshine into your day – who cares!!  As long as you have it – that’s all that matters!!  Tell The Doll where you get your Joy from, I would love to hear from you – that in itself, brings me joy!!

An Evening At The Doll’s Virtual Bullshit Bar/Chatter Box July 10, 2010

The last few Friday nights, The Doll has capped off some stress-filled weeks by spending the evening online with friends near and far in what I have dubbed, “The Doll’s Virtual Bullshit Bar/Chatter Box!”  We log in on Face Book, mix up a nice adult beverage if one is inclined to imbibe, and chatter the night away whilst posting music clips for each other to enjoy.  Think of it as being in your favorite hang out or tavern, and you  and your friends keep feeding the jukebox with a steady diet of quarters!   It has been an amazing experience.    I have friends here in Seattle, some in my home city of Philly, some in the south, others still are in many different countries.   Most don’t even know each other, some knew me in my years in elementary and junior high, others knew me after I moved west and attended high school.  But I love the fact that they feel comfortable befriending each other simply because they know they are friends with me – and I have become friends with their friends.  The one thing we all have in common on Friday nights – is our mutual love of music!      We don’t all have the same taste in music.  My friend “Deesker” loves traveling near and dear to the dark side, so she posts quite a bit of Marilyn Manson, Judas Priest, Disturbed, Puddle of Mudd, and Black Veil Brides.  Our buddy “Kirkpatrick” enjoys old and new country tunes, some heavy metal, and of course – Springsteen.  Since he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of posting tunes, we take turns finding fun things to post for his amusement!  Deesker, in particular takes great pride, and gets far too much pleasure out of finding “musical porn” to post for him!    The rest of us get extreme delight in watching what she’ll come up with to top her previous post! 

One thing that I always look forward to when posting my music clips, is what kind of trivia my friend “Marty Mench” will come up with!  He has all this lovely knowledge banging about in his head, and generously shares fun tidbits with us throughout the evening.  Last night was no exception!  I had no sooner posted a clip of Tiffany’s remake of “I think we’re alone now,” when Mr. Mench pops up with a juicy morsel of trivia du jour, and before you could blink, it started a fabulous three-way conversation between me, Mench man, and our childhood friend “Parker Prosey!”

It was during this wonderful bar stool banter, that Parker and I had a little sidebar conversation about how music touches our lives, and can literally transport us to another space in time.  With her permission, I will quote her, because what she said was so brilliantly magical and poignant, and rather took my breath away for a moment.  “ Music can take me back to another time and place…and even better, can put me back in touch with me and my better side when nothing else can:-) “ 

What a grand way to bring people together.  What a great combination too…a classic cocktail, incredible music, and an evening spent shooting the breeze – or shit as it were with a lively group of friends.  If you ever get the itch to join us, log onto Face Book and pour yourself a cold one.  We’ll drag another bar stool over for ya!             

Cirque De Doll-lei July 14, 2010

I am sure The Doll is not alone in the situation I find myself in these days.  I have so many balls in the air right now, it could only be compared to a spay and neuter clinic in the middle of a tornado!  You know your life has gotten too busy when you have been trying to find enough spare time in your hectic schedule to have lunch with your mother, and it is going on seven months now.  (Sorry Mom!!)

My life has become a sad turnstile of getting up, going to work, going home, trying to forget about all the work that didn’t get done because I spent more than half of my day getting referrals for patients, and getting preauthorizations for procedures, and sifting through piles of referrals that just keep pouring in.  Sometimes it feels like that scene in the old “I love Lucy” show when Lucy and Ethel were working in the chocolate factory, and the manager keeps hollering to speed up the conveyor belt!

If only the experience tasted like chocolate, perhaps then it wouldn’t feel so – for lack of a better word - icky!

It has gotten to the point where Mrs. Kissinger and I are starting to feel like we could become professional jugglers!  And we are pulled in so many different directions these days, we could be mistaken for either an old-fashioned taffy pull, or a member of Cirque  De Soleil!  So I figure, since she and I already have the raw talents of juggling and contortions, why not form a circus?  And that, my dear flock is how I came up with:  “Cirque De Doll-lei!”

Cause of Death: Drowning in Paper August 15, 2010

The Doll is painfully aware of the fact that it has been several days since my last post, and I do ask – no, beg for your forgiveness, but you see, I’ve only just now surfaced!  The good news is we have finally hired a third person to work in our business office full time….the bad news is while she is being trained it really doesn’t effect the mounds of work I have to attend to because I am taken off task to train her.  I know in the long run all will work out, but it is the in-between stages that can prove challenging – and, why yes…..!!!!! I AM being polite!!! I think that eight months of having to do my job - PLUS be the fill in referral coordinator, has finally taken its toll on me.  I think Mrs. K would concur….the “Biz off Ladies” are suffering serious burnout!  Thank the Good Lord above that we have “Jenny from around the corner” (from the float pool, you know….Flo’s sister!)  with us this week.  Thank goodness too that Mrs. k thought to keep her on the schedule since we aren’t completely up and running yet.  For an office that is “supposedly”….or as Mrs. K and I jokingly say, “apposedly”…. on “paperless” charts – I have NEVER touched so much goldarned paper in my entire flippin’ life!!!!!   In fact, every time I go in to get my nails done, The Doll is reprimanded about the condition of her dry cuticles, the numerous paper cuts, and the fact that my hands look so parched they might as well have been hanging out in a salt mine for all the moisture they retain!    

Personally, I think that Mrs. K and The Doll should be investing in hand lotion, because we go through SO MUCH of the stuff every day – we should, at the very least,be making some bank doing it, don’tcha  think??  Better yet, perhaps if we play our cards right, hand massages could be worked into next years negotiations for employees….along with those big fat raises everyone is going to get …. – RIGHT??!!   

Hey – can’t blame a Doll for tryin’……I’d take a hand massage over death by drowning in paper – ANY DAY!     

The Night A 70′s Savant Was Born July 21, 2010

The Doll was all geared up to write a super whiney post tonight about how stressed out I am, and how work has just got me completely overwhelmed, and that I am destined to die a slow agonizing death by being smothered by an avalanche of paper work.  BUT - that would really only benefit me, so I started watching some tunes on You tube, and my mood was greatly elevated by listening to some old 70′s songs from my youth.  

Suddenly I was transported back in time.  No – we are  not back to my junior high angst filled days, although I am sure we could ALL find something to cackle about from that genre!!!   No my dear wayward flock, The Doll is having  Abba-filled,  CD whirling, wind shield wipers rockin’ to the beat of you can ring my bell of a good time – I am talking about the night Pooks and I invented “70′s Savant!”   

History was made that night my friends!  A night that will live on in the warped and twisted minds of 70′s music enthusiast everywhere!  That’s right - I dig 70′s music, and the schmaltzier the love song the better!  For those out there not fluent in all things Yiddish, schmaltz means “excessively sentimental.”    Actually, listening to a schmaltzy homemade CD was how this whole thing got started!

Two years ago I touched down in the “city of brotherly love” on the 4th of July – how bitchin’ is that?   I had not been home in over 20 years, and I had forgotten just how big the whole celebrating the 4th is there in Philly!   We had been invited to a “BBQ” at the home of one of Pook’s friends – I put BBQ in quotes, because Mr. Bill doesn’t just throw some burgers on a rusty grill and call it a party!  This was the most up-scale and swankiest BBQ’s The Doll had ever had the privilege to attend!  His home is right by the Philadelphia Art Museum, so on the way home – in the pouring down rain no less, we had to take the Schuylkill Expressway, and I got to see the last of the city fireworks through the car window going about 45 miles per hour!   Pooks’ partner H had already started playing some music as we tooled around the city streets of Philly, and was marvelling at the fact that I seemed to know every song that was playing!  She then put in a CD that her brother had made for her which was a compilation of just about every schmaltzy 1970′s love song available on the face of the earth!  I only needed the first bars of music to get my jet lagged brain a-buzzing, and then I would start singing at the top of my lungs!  It then became a test of wills to see if H could stump The Doll!  Who did she think she was dealing with anyway??  She started loading the CD player and hitting me rapid-fire like a bazooka at a bank heist!  One after another I sang each song word for word – including all the do-wops, mind you, never missing a beat or a chord!  She and Pooks just kept laughing at me, and searching the car for another CD to pop in to see if they could somehow trip me up.  I am happy to report – The Doll prevailed!   Pooks just shook her head, and uttered in complete amazement, “It’s no use, you will never find one she doesn’t know!!  She is some kind of freakish ’70′s Savant!’ “     

The contest continued as we pulled into their driveway, and we sat there for at least another hour until Pooks finally pulled out her CD of “The Sound of Music,” and the two of us serenaded H with “So Long Farewell.”

I don’t think a night like that could be duplicated if we lived to be 103, but the memory of ”70′s Savant” will live on in infamy!

  

Move Over Dionne, There’s a New Network in Town July 27, 2010

I don’t know how many of you out there remember a silly commercial that was on tv back in the 80′s that featured a product called “Sizzlelean” – the slogan went something like this, “Move over bacon, now there’s Sizzlelean!”   God only knows how that popped into The Doll’s warped little mind, although, I must admit that many years ago in the early 80′s, I do recall being at a New Year’s Eve party, and when Prince’s song  ”1999″ came on, I was on the dance floor with my sister-in-law when I busted out a tricky dance move, and I hollered that slogan at the top of my lungs!!!

I shared that memory because yesterday I had an experience that made me think of another 80′s television mainstay….Dionne Warwick’s Psychic Friend’s Network!  The Doll has told you in previous posts that intuitive gifts run in my family.  My dear cousin Pooks is now offering an online class she has developed along with world-renowned psychic and author Echo Bodine, and yesterday was the first day of class!  So, with an open mind, and pen and paper by my side, I logged onto the site to begin my new adventure.

Two days later, the posted interactions between class members are going completely viral!  It has been an amazing experience so far to meet folks online from all over the world – we have two in Ireland alone – who have all shared very similar experiences their whole lives!

Now, The Doll isn’t suggesting that everyone in our class will graduate and go on to open their own store front psychic shack that is on some dusty road down the hill from Graceland.  But – maybe if you have insomnia some night, and are up flipping the channels on the old boob tube, you might just see a group of us giving Dionne Warwick and her Psychic Friends Network a run for their money!  

Just a little side-note here….with working all day, and taking part in this class, my posts may not be as frequent as usual – don’t fret!  I have also had a bit of writer’s block – so if you have any topics that you would like to see me write a post about, I completely welcome your suggestions.  Much love to my flock!  Doll

Just a Dizzy Kind Of a Broad July 28, 2010

The Doll had a weird day today.  I have mentioned in previous posts that I have been living with the daily pain of three herniated discs in my neck, and am currently awaiting L&I’s decision (based on a recent independent medical exam I was recently asked to submit to)  as to whether or not they will re-open my claim so I can get on with scheduling my surgery.  I have always referred to myself as somewhat of a dizzy broad anyway, but that was more along the lines of “flighty,” or “ditzy,” or just an all around fun-loving silly kind of gal.  But now…..NOW, I am just flat-out dizzy!!

I am used to being a little dizzy with the blasted medication, but I think the bulging discs must be adding more pressure to my already over-pressurized motor skills, because every time I stand up, I feel like I have just come off of a six-hour ride on the tilt a whirl at some sadistic carnival!  

I use to associate being dizzy with the lovely feeling you get as a child when you twirl in your cute little pink tutu in dance class, or the first time you stand, knees knocking a little in anticipation as you peer over the edge before jumping off the high dive at the city swimming pool, or the first real kiss you get from someone when you are really in love.  But this?  This just makes me queasy, and just gives me one more thing I gotta be aware of  when I already suffer from an over-cluttered mind.   What does a Doll have to do around here these days to get cut a little slack?  At least Mrs. Kissinger can sort of relate to my foggy-brain syndrome.  Lucky for me, she is right by my side every step of the way reminding me that menopause, along with the ever-present “mental pause” moments is very much akin to what I have been experiencing!  Whew!!!  So, at least I have that to look forward to with great anticipation!  Thanks, girl!  I can always count on you!

Nail Salon Protocals August 5, 2010

The Doll had a rather disturbing experience at the nail salon Saturday.  Usually I find my trips to see my fave nail gals a delightful and renewing time – especially the hand massage, it really helps with the hand pain.  But my spirit refueling experience was shattered by a woman who forgot to engage in proper nail salon etiquette!

Most people are well schooled in what is acceptable behavior in the nail spa – there are clear protocols that must be adhered to in order to make the time spent there a wonderful experience for all patrons.  This particular gal was on her cell phone when I entered the nail spa.  She was checking out the polish, and I naively assumed the little tart would hang it up once her nail gal was ready for her……silly me!

It became quite apparent that little Miss “Multi-tasker” had no intention of letting a little thing like a nail fill deter her from her full participation in a city-wide scavenger hunt!  From what The Doll could gather from our side of the conversation, each participant had to use the clues provided to locate various landmarks around the great Seattle area.  Over and over she kept calling this one hapless young mother who obviously was not as into this high-spirited game as this prize grubbing bitch was!  She kept repeating the same phrase over and over again, “Pamela, winning first, baby second!”  I am sure said baby appreciated knowing just where your parenting priorities stood, you CPS nightmare!!

When it got to the point where she could no longer hold the phone with one hand while the other hand was being worked on, she further polluted the peace and quiet by putting her phone on SPEAKER!!  We were then greeted by the ear drum shattering sound of a very unhappy baby screaming his dissatisfaction at the top of his lungs, while mom and Miss “It’s ALL about ME” talked all the more loudly over his ever-growing protests!  Now, just in case you think The Doll is heading straight for curmudgeonville, let me  (in the words of Richard Nixon)  make this perfectly clear!  I am all for carrying on a rousing nail spa conversation if, and ONLY if everyone else in the place is also conversing.  However, if you enter the salon, and the other people are relaxing, or simply having quiet little gossip sessions with their nail techs, then I believe you should follow suit.  The Doll thinks it is the highest form of rudeness to just present your hands to your nail gal, and then completely ignore her as if she is only there to provide a service to you whilst you carry on a conversation on the phone!   

So please, the next time you are about to enter your local nail spa, do yourself, and your fellow nail client a favor – commit the nail salon protocols to memory – and adhere to the strict guidelines of conversation decorum.  Believe me, the gal sitting next to you will be ever so grateful! 

A Dog’s Life in The Doll’s World August 7, 2010

Those out there who know The Doll on a personal level, and anyone who is familiar with my blog knows that I am a cat person.   So no one was more surprised than me when a co-worker approached me and asked if TBG and I might consider adopting a little Miniature Pinscher.  The wee lad had been discovered by her son sitting on his front porch two weeks  earlier surrounded by neighborhood children. 

Although The Doll had a dog or two in the course of my childhood, there have been nothing but fabulous felines in my household for my entire adult life.  As far as canines go, they are as foreign to me as they are to my cats!  Never in The Doll’s wildest dreams could I ever imagine bringing a dog into the inner sanctum of my kitty loving abode.  But then, I had never looked into eyes like that before.

It’s been said a sucker is born every day….the person that came up with that little slogan must have been a DOG person.  Because only a dog person could understand  how the very act of gazing into a dog’s eye’s could turn a logical human brain into a wiggling bowl of jello!  I walked into the doggie foster family’s house, and this little dog was all over me like a cheep suit!  He was leaping into the air as if attached by invisible wires, sniffing me energetically all the while emitting a sound I can only compare to as that of a guinea pig.  I picked him up, and he kissed my face heartily, and then settled down in my arms as if he had always been there.  That was it.  That’s all it took.  The Doll and TBG gathered up our new little addition, and the few meager belongings – including some seriously offensive couture his former owner had subjected him to – tagged this little gem with his new name, “Tank” – and brought him home with us.  Tomorrow will mark our one week of being dog owners, and in a way, it’s as if Tank has always been here.  Perhaps The Doll had a dog person in me all along….perhaps all I needed was just the right dog to fit into my world.

The Pros and Cons of Doggie Couture August 8, 2010

  Let me state for the record right from the get go that The Doll has always been vehemently opposed to dressing ones dog up in silly costumes and parading them up and down a public street for all to ridicule.  I have several friends who are guilty of this horrible lack of canine couture discretion.   I loath the very idea of dressing your dog up in a vile Halloween costume, and subjecting him to one picture-taking venue after another.  I get the distinct feeling that although the poor pooch poses beautifully for the camera, and appears to be fine with the whole “dress me up like little bo peep” thing, if given the chance, that dog would not even pause a second to rip that damn costume off before it ripped out your jugular!

BUT - having been a small dog owner for all of one week now, The Doll finds herself in a very unique quandary.  Yesterday was a rainy day, and every time I took poor little Tank outside to do his “duty” – he shook harder than a muffin top stuffed into size 5 jeans!   It was bad enough that he, in his convalescent state, had to endure the frigid weather – but the rain too?  There I was all snug and dry in my lovely garden rain slicker, but my little Min Pin, trying his darndest to look dashing in his stupid Elizabethan collar, was not only cold, he was having a terrible case of shy bladder!  Every time I took him out that first day after his surgery, I was filled with doggie mom angst.  Do I buy my dog a doggie sweater, or do I let the little feller tough it out until I could get him back inside and wrap him up in a warm towel?

One thing is for certain – NO DOG OF THE DOLL’S  will EVER be caught wearing something like this.

Curmudgeonville USA August 11, 2010

The Doll would like to extend a hearty welcome ya’ll to Curmudgeonville, USA – the official city, and home of the land of “You sound just like your father!”  Fear not, dear flock – ’tis not I who has landed there, but TBG is running for President, Mayor, and Chairman of the board!

Mrs. Kissinger has warned me time and time again that eventually, we all turn into our parents – no matter how hard we try not to.  I have sworn, NO – I have taken a solemn oath to not fall into this hazardous wasteland of chromosomal mayhem!  For TBG, I fear his time for redemption has come and gone – he is officially a goner!Even though he was TOTALLY on board with getting our new little addition to our fuzzy baby family, TBG is overly concerned with the fact that it is taking a little longer than he thinks is appropriate for two out of three of our felines to adjust to the Tank man!  He has taken to calling our new lovely “Sir Craps a lot,” and refers to him as ” it’s your dog!” 

The Doll had finally had it up to her fashionably jewel bedecked ears, and in no uncertain terms let TBG know he was acting like a total ASS!!

That definitely got his attention - that, and the fact I told him he sounded like a crusty old man!!  ”No I’m not!!  I’m only kidding!”  To which I retorted, “Oh Pu-leaze!!!  I am so sick and tired of hearing you piss and moan about the dog chasing the cats, and how they were here first.  You seem to forget, “Mr. If it’s not done my way – it wasn’t done right!” -   that he is young,  it has only been a little over a week since we brought the little man home, and our cats would be acting this way regardless of what kind of animal we were introducing them to!!!!”   

Honestly – does this man know who he is dealing with??  Apparently, he of little information retention, must not have updated his “Doll” files!  If he doesn’t start minding his P’s and Q’s, he may wake up to find that his lovely little Doll-baby has morphed into his co-captain on his personal plane, “Hot-air Tank”, with our compass set straight for Assville!  I perish the thought! 

Two Walks A Day Sweeps The Blues Away August 17, 2010

Who would have thunk it??  The Doll is in utter awe.  First of all, the very thought that I would ever own a dog is mind-boggling enough, but I never stopped to think what an incredibly positive effect this darling little creature would have on my frame of mind.  It is as if all the planets in the universe lined up just so…..because it couldn’t have happened otherwise! 

In the two weeks since the little Tank man came home with us, we have only missed one of our two daily walks.  And that was only because he had just come home from getting neutered.  Otherwise, Tank and The Doll have a standing date whether I feel like it or not.  Having him around forces me to get outside, and not just outside my house…he helps me to get outside of my head.  He is a divine distraction from my near-constant pain – even if it is to just take a jaunt through the neighborhood, and marvel at the simple things that he finds so fascinating.  To breath in the early morning air, even if my early morning brain is still ultra fuzzed over from my medication.  Tank doesn’t care if I sound funny, or if my words come out backwards, or if I look completely glazed over like a pottery piece left in the kiln too long – he is just so happy to be spending time with me and going on our adventure.    

There is another benefit to all this walking about…I have been able to move my belt down to the next hole!!  Somebody bottle this little gem!  Not only are the two daily walks good therapy for my pain and my Lyrica loopy brain, they provide a much-needed quiet time…a time for my mind and soul to relax, regroup, and rebuild.  The fact that two walks a day keeps the ol’ “jiggle” away has not been lost on me either!  That alone would get my tail a-waggin’!

Yummy Sips, and Naughty Quips August 22, 2010

Friday started out cloudy, freezing cold, and full of gloom.  As Tank and I started out on our usual morning constitutional, even his contagious zest for life could not stave off my tears.  The mercury drop made it feel more like November than August, and my neck and hands were hurting more than ever.  It is moments like this, that I can truly understand why some people who are either in perpetual physical or emotional pain choose not to continue to live.  It is not a choice I would make, but it is certainly something I now understand with a clarity I did not possess when my cousin made that decision six years ago.   I didn’t need this – of all days, I certainly did not need to be dealing with the terminal nerve pain I have been suffering with for the last four years. I live in a beautiful little suburb named Shoreline, located just a few miles north of Seattle.  I moved here from Philadelphia in the fall of 1978 in my freshman year of high school, and aside from going away to college, this has been The Doll’s home town for over thirty years.  Every third Friday in the month of August, a reunion of sorts is held in an ancient establishment called The Cabin Tavern located down near the railroad tracks along Richmond Beach.  Richmond Beach, Lord have mercy – if sand could talk!!  For those who grew up here, that place – along with The Cabin holds many a story and plenty of secrets.  Alumni from Shorewood High School gather each year to relive their glory days, shoot the bull, clink their glasses, and enjoy each other’s company.  It was a reunion I had never been to, and it was one I did not want to miss.

As my work day drew to a close, I had pretty much decided that the only thing The Doll would be doing that evening would be to pop some pain pills and take to my bed.  So, I went home, asked TBG to take the Tankster out for a walk for me, and hunkered down in my bed to read some messages on my FB page until I got sleepy.  I had posted that I felt too pooped to party, and I was greeted by encouraging responses telling me to “Just go!!  You’ll perk up!!”  I promptly fell asleep in mid-read.  Such a party girl!!  I woke up a few hours later completely disoriented thinking it was 8:15 in the morning - and not sure if it was even still Friday!  One thing I did know – if it was still Friday, I was Cabin bound!  

I got up, took my time dressing, foofed the ‘do and got my lips on straight, and arrived down in Richmond Beach a little before 10:00 pm.  I had missed seeing the beautiful sunset over the water, but thankfully – there was still a few hours of fun to be had!  I had never been to The Cabin, so I dubbed myself a “Cabin Virgin,” parked my car, and with a little flutter in my tummy walked in for the first time.

The place was hopping!!  The sound of people laughing, talking over music, and shrieks of delight as people recognized one another.  As I looked around, I found people looking at me and I searched their faces for one I recognized.  I slowly turned around surveying each little grouping of folks, and as I did, I literally ran right smack into one of my beloved classmates!

We hugged enthusiastically, and he led me over to a group of people from our class.  I embraced and spoke with each one, and then – thankfully – one took mercy on me and went off to buy me a cocktail!   As I took that first sip, I spied one of my fave upper classmen over the rim of my Cosmopolitan!!    As I waded through the sea of people, I called out, “Coming through, coming through!  Lady with a cocktail!!”  In no time I was seated with his delightful partner on one side, and another upper classmate whom I had not seen in nearly 30 years on the other.  I could see some gals at other tables having themselves a serious bout of Kathy Griffen envy!!!  And why wouldn’t they? Gay men are simply too fabulous.  I adore each and every gay man I have ever had the privilege to know.  They are stylish, witty, incredible conversationalist, throw the best bridal showers I have ever been too, and let you know the “girls” are looking good in your low-cut shirt when you ask for their opinion!

I made my way back over to the other side of the bar to visit with another classmate and his lovely wife, and the friend who had bought me the first drink.  The four of us ended up chatting until nearly 1:00am when it became apparent that it was time to feed his beautiful bride who is just entering her eighth month of pregnancy.

We walked out, not really wanting to say goodbye, and as I strolled down the street, I glanced above the treeline and was gifted by the sight of a full moon.  What a beautiful end to a perfect evening.  I am so glad I didn’t let pain keep me away.

I Didn’t Know…You Were Already Gone September 3, 2010

I kept looking.  Sometimes it was only a cursory glance, sometimes a thorough snoop through Classmates.com, or on Facebook, or Whitepages.com.  Don’t ask me why, if I knew – I wouldn’t be telling this story!  The more I tried to ignore it, the more the need to know, no – the need to find HER  propelled my search forward.

I can still see her face.  Beautiful in a sullen, defiant way.  You can really only garner those results if you are still in Jr. High, otherwise, you are what is now commonly referred to as, “a total bitch, hot, but a total bitch!!”  She was a badass!!  I had never seen anything like her before!  She wore boys Levis 501′s, a jean jacket too, her light brown hair feathered back like every other girl at my school.  Her boyfriend was practically her mirror image.  His hair was almost as long, also feathered back, same jeans, same jacket, same hard sullen look.  They even smoked identical Marlborough Reds.  The one thing about her that he could not copy?  Her eyes.  She had lovely, sad eyes….haunted is a better description actually.

She had a chip on her shoulder a mile wide, and was known for beating the shit out of other girls just for the hell of it.  But I liked her.  I found out a couple of weeks into the school year the secret behind those eyes.  Just a year earlier, her sister had died.  Not just died….she was murdered.  She was a sophomore in high school, and she had been murdered by the boy she had just broken up with.  Upon learning this, I couldn’t help myself….I invited her to my birthday party.

To my delight, she accepted.  There I was, with a small group of my closest friends and this intriguing newcomer gathered around my stereo in my basement listening to Peter Frampton singing “Do you feel like I do”  The conversation turned to whether or not we thought Grace Slick was a total slut.  Ah the innocent musings of 13-year-old girls.  

She never came over again.  I guess I wasn’t cool enough, not bad enough.  We saw each other at parties….she was usually stoned, picking fights or yelling at her boyfriend.  I never let go of the desire to reach out to her, to befriend her.  As the years went by I would hear snippets, tatters of stories, rumors of addiction, of her falling on hard times.  Little did I know, that last year, as the need to find her bordered on compulsion, she was already gone.  She had been staying that last six months with a mutual classmate from long ago.  Two weeks after she left his house, she died – her addictions had won that final battle.  My eyes have felt sad for her all week since I found out.  I pray she has found the peace that alluded her in life.

If The Poo Fits… September 8, 2010

The Doll is starting to get a Poo Complex!  TBG and I have had our precious pooch for exactly five weeks now, and Mr. Tankalicious has yet to “off load” whenever he goes for a walk with TBG!  Yes sirrey-Bob – nothing says “I love you” like a plastic bag full of steaming Tank poo!

TBG assures me that this shouldn’t be taken personally.  How else is one suppose to take such a message?   I cannot think of anything more personal than bag full of somebody’s body waste.

The Doll is wondering if I need to be doing some serious soul-searching.  Like, what on earth could be in my karma that I should have to keep dealing with the doggie doo??  I guess it could be worse, right?  I mean, when it comes to le poo poo, there is a whole lot of worse that could be going on there other than the fact that my dog keeps gifting me with it.

In fact, The Doll should just thank my lucky poo-less stars that I don’t have a dog like my dear cousin Pooks has!  Her dog, “Zucumber” (he is a vegan Jack Russell Terrior….or is that “terror?”) has taken to rolling in shit every chance he gets!  I don’t even think I could bring myself to bathe a dog that had behaved in such a vile manner!  Don’t tell Pooks, but I think he does it so she will HAVE to bathe him….he has a secret addiction to that coconut soap she always uses on him.   Hmmm….maybe I should have TBG carry a bar of that soap in his pocket when he takes Tank out for a walk? 

Writing Under The Influence September 9, 2010

Against The Doll’s better judgement, I am writing this latest post under the influence of some truly fucking amazing pain killers – this being the night before my much  awaited spinal surgery.  The last few days, it has felt like my body knew the time was drawing near….my hands have had a non-stop numbness about them.  At times they have felt like they had fallen asleep, or they were drunk and stumbling through the motions . 

In fact, my hands have been doing a killer impersonation of what a tongue acts like in the mouth of a drunk person…if that makes  any kind of crazy-ass sense.  It is as if they are trying to fudge their way through a flippin’ field sobriety test…and they think they are doing a SPLENDID job of things…but any minute, they are going to type “ocifer” instead of “officer” and the whole jig is going to be up! 

So, tomorrow, me – The Doll, and her lovely manicured (in a very un-Doll-like pale neutral shade of “I Pink I Love You” OPI polish) hands await the very skilled hands of my sturgeon…er, um, surgeon - and the operation that we all hope will finally put an end to the never-ending pain I have been in for so many years.  Until then my lovelies, I am off to hopefully not sleep off the good stuff.  

     I I will fill you all in when I am back up and functional. xoxox, Doll.

You Want Me To Wear What??!! September 18, 2010

It has been just one week and one day since The Doll endured yet another on her long list of many  surgical procedures, and I think I have healed sufficiently enough on the emotional scar level to be able to share the latest hospital tale with you.

You see, as luck, or fate, or just plain old black humor would have it, The Doll - once, YET again - was graced with the old “monthly time bomb” when faced with a surgery!  I had been given some inside information – hey, I have my contacts no matter where I am heading!  A Doll must be prepared for anything!  I was informed to make friends with the first nurse you come in contact with, and she will take pity on you, and “hook a Doll up!”  All I can say to that informant is this:  Fat Fucking Chance!!!!

So I grab the first gal, and try as I might to get across to this broad that The Doll is dealing with a delicate situation….I could not seem to sway her over to letting me wear my own clean panties with my own very comfy maxi pad during my surgery.  “Sorry, no ‘outside articles’ are allowed during surgery!  They are very strict here!”  Then she brought me some lovely “french panties” and a super sticky pad to put in them.  What she handed me was the equivalent of a fish net “scrunchy” and a HUGE pad that looked more like a mega Depends.  The Doll could NOT contain herself!!  “You want me to wear WHAT????”  “You guys DO REALIZE that I am having surgery on my neck – RIGHT????!!!!”  This protest was again met with the whole “no outside articles” bullshit.  To say The Doll was mortified doesn’t even begin to touch on the emotion I was feeling.  I didn’t even know how to wear these things!!!  All I could think of was – I should have just put a damn tampon in and shut my big fat mouth!    

Kicking Brown To The Curb October 4, 2010

There is nothing The Doll enjoys more than spending time with her peeps.  I had the distinct pleasure of being treated to lunch a few weeks back by a lovely couple – in fact, the wife of said couple is the gal responsible for giving The Doll her “tag” some 22 years ago.  We dined at one of my favorite local restaurants – “Hill’s” and even had a decadent afternoon cocktail to add to our already raucous and laughter punctuated meal conversation.  Suffice to say – it was the perfect medicine for The Doll, and a wonderful reprieve from my surgical recovery.

It is a rarity in a persons’ social life when you find you get along equally well with not only your friend, but  their spouse as well.  The Doll has been blessed with a few of these sumptuous pairings – and “Doll Jr.” and her beloved “Big Guy” are at the utmost top wrung of “The Doll’s fave couples to hang with” ladder.

I received a rather frantic phone call a little over a week ago from Doll Jr., or DJ as we will call her now to save me some key strokes – her BG had announced that they would be attending a “black tie” event on October 2nd, and DJ was calling from the mall to enlist my fashion-savvy assistance.  Being only two weeks post-op, I was in no condition to hop in my car at that moment to meet her, so I gave her The Doll disclaimer of, “if you really want me to help you, you can’t get mad at me if I REALLY give you my opinion” about your attire choices!”  I instructed DJ to take some pictures of the dresses she had tried on, and I would be happy to apply my veto power to any and all she showed me.  I decided to take this on as my very own “Rachel Zoe Project!”

To give you just a little back story history, someone, at some point in DJ’s life told her she looked great in brown.  Unfortunately – this little fashion  gem has been stuck on “replay” in her internal CD player, and she has been unable to hit the “delete” button ever since.  Notice the picture above – even all “Dolled up” everything in the background is brown!!!  So – first thing The Doll did, was to tell DJ – “we are kicking brown to the curb!”

The next day I phoned DJ to ask if she took pictures of the dresses for my perusal.  She replied that she had found “the dress,” and she was going to borrow a pair of ill-fitting shoes from her daughter.  I asked what color the dress was, and to my horror, she confessed that it was indeed – BROWN!   DJ picked me up to head to the mall the very next day to find suitable shoes, but I warned her that I needed to see the dress before assisting with finding appropriate accoutrements.  We toddled on over to the store to look at the dress, where The Doll turned a deaf ear to DJ’s protests of, “I LOVE this dress – it really looks great on me,” and insisted she try on several of my picks.  I am VERY proud of my fashion protegé, she not only tried them on, she put one on hold to think things over.  The next morning, DJ called from the store to inform me that her BG LOVED the dress I had chosen, and she was returning the drab brown frock!   Not only that, she then informed me that my status had been elevated to “Diva Doll!” 

In one week, we found DJ the perfect new fragrance, her beautiful gown, shoes to die for, and some very tasteful gemstones on loan from The Doll’s personal vault.  I then called my nail salon to schedule a mani/pedi appointment for her, and gave very explicit instructions that under NO circumstances was anyone allowed to let this woman walk out of their shop wearing any sort of blah pale pink polish!!!  I even check upon our arrival that this message had been typed in next to her name in the appointment calendar – we both dissolved into peals of laughter!  “Black Currant Chutney” was the color du jour – The Doll even decided to have the same color applied – it is stunning!!  The only item I did not have a chance to personally view was her wrap…but, sometimes you just have to let go, and say, “hey – it is what it is,” and look at the bigger picture.  DJ stepped out of her comfort zone,  she took a chance, she was open to new things, and most of all – she had a blast doing it!  And, it was THE best distraction I have ever had from the pain of surgical recovery.  I think there is a lesson to be learned here….go find the brown in your life, and kick its ass to the curb!     

Beans to Boot! September 24, 2010

 My mother once said to me that taking care of someone who is recuperating from surgery is tantamount to watching paint dry.  I don’t know about that, but  if you ask TBG, he would tell you that watching me on pain meds is pretty damn entertaining!

Per doctor’s orders, part of my therapy/strength building post operative program is to take daily walks.  Thank goodness The Doll was way ahead of the game.  Enter Mr. Tankalicious.  Rain, shine, spaced out, painful, delirious, Lyrica hung over – it doesn’t matter to him….when nature calls, we gots to go!!  So it was that The Doll and her personal trainer, Mr. Tank Master Flash set out on their morning constitutional two days ago – very early in the morning  just as the sun was breaking over the horizon.  There is something so deliciously sublime about getting out in the crisp morning air – whether you are a morning person or not.  It gets the blood pumping, fills the lungs with fresh air, and Tank and I get to see all of his many fans in our neighborhood.

What is it about having a dog that makes people all of a sudden notice you.  Well, not you particularly….just your dog!  We finally got to see Donna – Tank’s very favorite lady.  It had been a few weeks since we had last seen her, and she was so thrilled to see “her dog” that she picked him up and covered his handsome face with multiple smooches!  I explained that I had recently had neck surgery, so my husband had been walking him at various times that didn’t coincide with running into her leaving her house in the morning.  She mentioned the chilly weather, and I told her that as opposed as I was to doggie couture – I felt it was time to go have a look at what was available at Petco since the Tankster was going there that afternoon for his “day of beauty.”

We walked “our lady” to her car, and continued down the street, with The Doll chattering (as best as I can with my morning Lyrica induced aphasia)  to Tank about what a lucky guy he was to see his favorite gal, when I heard another gal say, “oh, I thought you were talking to a person!”  Enter Miss Susan – yet another in a long list of Tank fans.  I picked Senor Popular up so she could see that I was not completely delusional, and she immediately exclaimed about how adorable he was – natch!!  I made small talk about how I had admired her yard for years, and had really enjoyed watching its transformation, and the thought she had taken in choosing the varieties of plants she used in her landscape.   She then informed me that she had only lived there a year, and it was a rental property – but I was certainly welcome to come and pick some green beans now if I wanted to – “the dog might want one!”

Later that day, I took the Tankster for his spa day, and spent some time perusing the interesting world of animal couture.  Most of it, The Doll has decided, would not work unless my dog was a cross dresser.  I was able to come away with three items that were at least marginal, and would not cause The Doll undo embarrassment when walking the little lad through our hood! 

Now, I swore to my friend Doll Jr. that I wouldn’t/couldn’t share this with the flock, but The Doll is suffering from a terrible case of the guilt’s!!  When The Doll and her fella left the store after his shampoo and set job, I thought that I had properly secured the cart in its cart spot before putting the dog and packages in the car.  But…as I was starting to back out of my parking stall, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye – it looked like the cart had moved!  Nah…..must be the pain meds, or I needed a nap – right??  I started to back out again…..and again, the cart inched forward, as if under the power of some paranormal state.  I put the car in park, and gave half a thought to jumping out of the car and running around to try to grab this thing before it headed out into a sea of traffic.  Then I looked at the dog.  The dog looked at me as if to say, “hey – if you’re jumping out, then I’M jumping out,” and I knew in my heart of hearts there was no fucking way I could logistically “jump” anywhere, or “grab” anything without popping every internal surgical stitch in me, let alone keep this animal under control whilst attempting to handle all the other ensuing mayhem!

So, as much as it pains me to admit, I sat there in my car - in mid-backup, and watched this cart crawl passed my car as if in a slow-mo Buster Keaton movie clip, make a left hand turn, and quickly pick up speed and head out of the parking lot towards the stop sign – which, by the way it had no intention of minding!!!  I waited long enough to listen for screeching tires, busting glass, and metal twisting – heard none, so without fanfare, I busted a serious move to get the heck out of there!!  I finished backing up, turned in the opposite direction that the cart headed, and prayed that I would not be hearing about this on the 6 o’clock news!

As I was driving home, I thought to myself – “well, that was quite a day….and I got beans to boot!”   

The Doll Ain’t No Sissy! September 29, 2010

Growing old ain’t for sissies.  There is no statement out there that The Doll agrees with more right about now than that.  It has been two and a half weeks since my 14th surgical procedure, and I must say, I am getting too old for this shit!  With every passing year, and with each procedure I have had to endure – it gets more difficult to bounce back, and wipes me out like there is no tomorrow!

I don’t know flock, I think I am one tough chick, The Doll has NEVER considered herself a sissy, but this is hard!  It is tiring trying to heal, and it hurts my pride like you would not believe to ask for help – that part in particular sucks like nothing else!    I am eternally grateful to TBG, to my beloved friends, and to my fantabulous surgeon.  I am one lucky gal to have such a divine support system.  Thank you.  It may be hard to ask for help, but it is never hard for me to say “thank you!”

House Envy October 6, 2010

Today was one of those days when TBG is on fire about getting the yard/house all in tip-top ship shape…in other words, it was one of his days off, and he had chores with The Dolls name written all over them! 

We have been dealing the last week with trying to locate this horrid slum lord who owns the property next to ours who’s trees are growing way out over our roof, and with the rough winter our region is threatening to have, it has become TBG’s main focus and ever-present priority to find this guy so we can get permission for the tree crew to climb his trees to cut the limbs.  We won’t even go into the legalities of this property line pissing match – the fact that this jackass is the cheapest thing next to one-ply toilet paper, or the fact that he doesn’t want to take any monetary responsibilities for his trees causing a serious hazard to our home and health.

As luck would have it, Tank and I had just started out on a quick walk, when I spied our subject of lumber indiscretions’ car parked in the driveway at the rental property next door.  Taking matters into my perfectly manicured hands, the Tankster and I made a beeline for the front door where I was NOT about to be ignored!  I rang the bell…..waited…knocked…waited…leaned on the bell….and finally rapped on the door with such authority, that anyone inside would seriously think there was a coppa standing outside ready to haul their ass to the pokey!  Long story short, I came away with his permission to access his trees, and his phone number so our arborist could contact him, with the hopes that he would have more luck than us in convincing the putz that he really should be footing the bill for this hazard removal – not us!!

Later in the day, Tank was in one of his restless moods, and since we had about 45 minutes until TBG served dinner, I decided to take him out for a nice early evening stroll through the hood.  There is this incredible house in our neighborhood that I have walked past for years. It is a house I immediately fell in love with because it doesn’t look like anything surrounding it.  It reminds The Doll of a house one would find somewhere on the cape, or along some beautiful countryside.  It is roughly three stories high, and has these wonderful windows on the top floor that open out – The Doll has imagined herself being in the upper story in the summer time and feeling the delicious breeze passing through the rooms.  The yard is to die for!!!!  There are fruit trees, flowers of every variety, quaint peaceful nooks with chairs and little tables, and The Doll dreams of sitting there with a lovely lemonade or Cosmo drinking in the heavenly scent of honey suckle, and praying I won’t have to use my bee sting kit.

For the very first time, someone was actually outside in the yard as we were passing, and I made eye contact with the owner.  I must be losing my Doll touch!!!  I had made sure that before I left the house, I had foofed my curls, applied some snazzy lip gloss, and spritzed with my new Ed Hardy parfume’…..and then I got the courage up to tell this guy how much I admired his home.  He turned the mower off, listened to my gushing remarks….kind of smiled, and thanked me…and turned the mower back on.  Hmmm….maybe The Doll had only encountered the gardener?   Sigh…….I feel like I somehow broke the house envy spell.  It is as if by making contact with someone there, it can no longer be my pretend sanctuary.  I guess Tank and I will just have to discover another house we can lust after.

The “R” Factor October 8, 2010

The Doll has been kicking this issue around for the last few days, and since I have not come up with what I feel is a suitable solution, I am opening this up for general discussion with my faithful flock.

Here is the sitch in a nutshell:  As mentioned in previous posts, The Doll’s elder son has been in Alaska since the beginning of March.  He has had a rough time of it, but a recent phone visit revealed that things appear to be on the upswing.  He is now employed, feeling much better about himself, has a brighter outlook on life, and sounded much more stable.  As I have also shared with my readers, this has not always been the case.  My son suffers from Bipolar, and has historically self medicated with alcohol – among other things, and at times has had his fair share of legal woes.

My brother-in-law and his family are in the same town in Alaska that my son currently resides in.  In the eight months that my son has been up there, not once has “R” EVER invited my child over for a home cooked meal, asked if he needed anything, or showed him one iota of human kindness.  

Just a few days ago, TBG announced over dinner that his brother would most likely be coming down for a visit sometime in February.  I immediately lost my appetite.  Whenever this man arrives, TBG puts his entire life on hold to run all kind of errands for him, invites him for breakfast every day, our attendance is requested/expected at big family dinners in his honor over at my in-laws’ house, and I’m sorry – I just cannot even stomach having ANY contact with this man!!!!

And, if people want to think it is a tit for tat thing, so be it – perhaps there is some element of that going on in my motivation….but more to the point, I think the guy is just a big fat dick, and I find myself getting nauseated just being in the same room with him.  He is a selfish, spoiled guy, who is use to his family fawning all over him, and dropping everything they are doing whenever he pops into town. And, truth be told, I am pissed that after everything TBG and I have done for him and his children, he has treated my child with such cold indifference.

People make mistakes….that is what makes them human.  My kid isn’t perfect – he will be the first to admit that.  My son has never done anything to “R.”  He is just being an asshole.  How do I tell TBG that I don’t want to see his brother when he comes to town without causing a big pissing match in Casa de Doll?

What is a Doll to do?

A Perfect Pairing October 11, 2010

The Doll had to endure yet another round of “suture spelunking” on Friday, and hasn’t quite felt my usually sparkly self the past few days – which is why I am so thankful for great pairings.  Fabulous shoes, and places to wear them.  Wine and cheese, or wine and chocolate.

The Doll also enjoys early birthday dinners with divinely wonderful close friends full of laughter, peppered with naughty words, and the delicious combo of laughter mixed with the sound of clinking martini glasses containing (of course) a perfectly prepared classic Cosmopolitan!

Last night I was reminded of one of my all time favorite pairings: laughing with TBG!!!  One of the biggest selling points when it came to The Doll and TBG getting together in the first place, was his ability to make me laugh.  I have often joked that I had it written into our marriage vows that regardless of what was going on in our lives, or what kind of day either of us had, he had to find a way to make me laugh every day.

We were on our way home from a post birthday dinner at our favorite little diner, when one of The Doll’s fave classic 1970′s savant songs began playing on the oldies station!  I let out a squeal of delight, and reached to turn up the volume.  TBG took this as his que to start his favorite game, “music trivia,” and asked me the name of the group who sang the song.  For those playing along, the song in question was, “Don’t pull your love.”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_3QqzI23sE  I threw out a couple of lame guesses, but really – all I wanted to do was listen to the music and sing along – but TBG was not about to be ignored.  He started ad-libbing the words, and inserting his own dorky commentary about the story.  When it got to the part in the song when the guy sings, “you say you’re gonna leave, gonna take that big white bird, gonna fly right out of here, without a single word….”  TBG interjects, “The bitch is leaving me!”  “That bitch is getting on a plane and taking my heart with her!”  In mid-note, I BUSTED out laughing!!  I couldn’t help myself – I was laughing so hard, I almost couldn’t breath!!  By the time we got to the last light before turning on to our street, I had nearly wet my pants – and the harder I laughed, the more inane comments TBG kept saying.  Suffice to say, it was the most fabulous and perfect of all of The Dolls’ Perfect Pairings.

Bootcamp For Parents Of Adult Children October 20, 2010

The Doll feels compelled to warn her faithful flock that I am on my soap box tonight, and I double dog dare ya to try to knock me off!  Before I blow my perfectly coiffed stack, I wish to give a shout out to The Doll’s most beloved mother who has always taken great care not to over-step the boundaries of parenthood since I became an adult.   

The Doll has had numerous conversations recently with friends regarding their mothers/mothers-in-law, and the cutting things that these women always seem to interject into conversation under the guise of “parental advice.”  I know I have touched on this subject previously – but it appears that it is a topic in need of further debate.  

Mrs. Kissinger and I have discussed this at length, and we whole heartedly agree that one of the most difficult things to do once your children are grown, is to know when to shutty the pie hole!  We assume that these unsolicited remarks are meant to “help,” or “impart your parental wisdom,” but The Doll and Mrs. k cannot stress enough, that you are actually being RUDE, insensitive, thoughtless and mean, and rather than just flat-out telling you to shut the fuck up, we think you need professional help.  

I told Mrs. Kissinger just yesterday that I think she needs to run some kind of boot camp or seminar for these wayward parents who are overly involved in their adult children’s lives.  It’s not just for mom’s…dad’s are just as guilty of running their mouths without their internal filters in place!  Mothers, it seems, just feel more comfortable with allowing themselves to insert these hurtful zingers into “polite conversation” – all the while keeping their voices syrupy  sweet, and with an angelic smile firmly planted on their faces so as to keep the intended recipient off-balance at all times.  Part of being a parent is acceptance.  You never know what you are going to get when you mix gene pools with someone, and when that wonderful little bundle is presented to you in the hospital, it is kind of a given that you are accepting this adorable personage.  You get 18 years to basically mold, shape, warp, and torment this product of your loins – and then you just need to back the fuck off, and let the chips fall where they may, and let your child find their own way.  Sometimes it is what you want, and sometimes it isn’t  – SO WHAT!!!  It is no longer a reflection of YOU – it is a reflection of them.  If they are happy with that reflection, that is the only thing that matters.  If you are not happy with that reflection, stop standing behind your adult child while they are looking in the mirror and mind your own beeswax!    

   

  

Following Your Moral Compass October 30, 2010

Sometimes life presents you with the proverbial fork in the road.  Unfortunately, not all of us are as lucky as Dorothy on her merry trip along the yellow bricks – there isn’t always going to be a scarecrow hanging in a corn field helping us decide which direction to take.

The Doll has been having quite a time of it as of late.  Since heading back to the office at a reduced schedule, I have been spending a great deal of my off hours making sure that my L&I benefits are being calculated correctly, and contacting the appropriate people – who are supposed to know what the hell they are doing, and hitting many a yellow brick wall along the way.

Now, The Doll is usually slow to anger, and as a general rule I firmly believe in taking the high road and giving people the benefit of the doubt.  We are all human, and as we all know – “to err is human” and all that rot, but there is just so much that a gal can take, and right about now, I wish I had a huge stock pile of bricks to throw at the knuckle heads who are administering (incorrectly, I might add) my time loss benefits.  It makes me wonder how those idiots sleep at night.  I have caught error after bleeping error, and no one wants to take responsibility.  I would have way more respect for someone if they would just admit, “hey, we fucked up, and we are going to make it all better for you.” But Nooooooooooo….they waste more of my precious time passing the blame buck faster than a serious game of hot potato!

After all this stress and aggravation, it was nice to be walking down another road with the Tankster this morning, enjoying the crisp autumn air, and waving to other dog walking fools.  We were just passing the house I lust after, when I came upon a weird scene.  There, on the dew covered grass on the side of the road was a knit cap, a small pile of damp cigarettes, and a wallet.  I picked it up, took a quick peek inside to see if there was ID, and continued on with our morning constitutional.

When I got back to the house, I had a chance to take a closer look at the contents to see if there was a way to contact the owner.  There were many interesting puzzle pieces to this little hot potato!  I discovered a temp ID, showing a picture of a boy not quite 18, a neatly folded stack of bus tickets, a piece of wrinkled paper with the word “Mom” written on it with a phone number, and ninety-two dollars in cash.  As I turned the wallet this way and that, something else caught my attention….poking its green little head out of a small compartment was a couple of seriously plump choice buds of Mary Jane….and a Condom.   My, my, my…..what a fun Friday night that guy didn’t have!!!

Now that you’ve heard this scenario….The Doll is dying to know….what would you do given the same circumstances?*Side note:  I have had a request to offer a “Dear Doll” portion in my blog column where I invite people to write in, and ask The Doll’s advice about any topic they wish….ala “Dear Abby.”  Please feel free to post a question in my “comments” area.  But keep in mind, if you ask The Doll for advice, it is only her opinion, you still need to follow your own moral compass.    

     

  

Glad I Followed My Moral Compass November 1, 2010

My dear flock, I am happy to fill in the blanks of my previous post about finding a lost wallet.

The Doll has been mulling this delicate situation over for the last three days.  I felt a sense of urgency in finding the owner, but the only phone number in the wallet was the owners mom.  Considering the fact that the wallet did in fact contain an herbal substance, and a condom, I wanted to make sure that the wallet got to its rightful owner, and not in the hands of a parental type unit.

 
This afternoon, The Doll hit pay dirt when I finally got the nerve up to call “Mom” and ask if she had a son named “Mikey” – which she did.  I told her my name, and that I had found his wallet, and wanted to get it back to him.  She was ecstatic!!!  I told her that The Doll also was a mother of boys who made a habit of losing items, and I wished that people had been kinder to my children – they usually didn’t get things returned to them.  I also mentioned that I had blogged about finding his wallet, so I was looking forward to chatting with Mikey, and finding out just how that wallet, cap, and ciggies wound up on that particular street.  Mikey’s mom squealed with delight!  She thought that he would really enjoy hearing he had been the topic of someone’s blog!

Mikey’s mom called Mikey’s dad, to let him know the wallet had been found, and a few minutes later, I got a phone call from Mike sr.  Turns out, Mikey had just cashed his very first paycheck , and all of that money was in his wallet that night.   When Mikey got on the line, I explained where I found his wallet, describing the scene I had come upon Saturday morning, and I gave him The Doll’s disclaimer:  “I have GOT to ask you this, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”  Works like a charm every time I tell ya!  People just love to tell me things….and for that, I shall be eternally grateful!!  Mikey told me – quite openly I might add that he had been at a party Friday night, and then was in a friend’s car when he began to feel sick.  He isn’t sure if the items I found had been on his lap, or if they had been in his pocket, but when he exited the car, his knit cap, ciggies, and wallet all went with him.  He then got violently sick to his tummy in the ditch below where the items fell.  As he emerged from the ditch, he hit his head on the mailbox, and got so dizzy both from drink and brain bashing, that he didn’t even notice all of his belongings directly at his feet.  As happy as he was to fill in the blanks for my faithful readers, it doesn’t even begin to describe the look on his face when his dad drove him over an hour later, and I handed him the wallet – with all contraband intact.  He told me that he has found many wallets over the last few years, and he always turns them in to the owner.  I told him that this was the good karma coming back to him, and to remember that.  Perhaps this experience will help point Mikey’s compass in an even more positive direction.  It sure left The Doll feeling mighty positive about the direction my compass took me.

Oh SNAP!!!! November 13, 2010

Oh Snap!  I just love that saying!!  If any of you out there has ever watched the show, “My Name is Earl”, you know all about Joy’s wonderful little line she always utters before she does something outrageous!  It is as if she is saying, “all right then, GAME ON!!!”  To me it evokes wonderful visions of Jerry Springer, girls taking off their shoes and earrings, and praying to the good Lord above that their new weave that they just got did doesn’t get pulled out during the ruckus!!

The Doll has had one of those reprehensible weeks where I have been so flippin’ cranky, even I couldn’t stand to be around me!!!  Have you ever had one like that??  It seemed like everywhere I went, looked, or ventured, there were people who took great care and had a knack for getting under my skin, and stomping on every available last raw fuckin’ nerve!!!

It doesn’t help much that I am still healing, still dealing with gaining my strength back.  Stress can be such a hinderance.  Today marks the one year anniversary of the departure of Miss Abbysonic from our clinic – much to the dismay of The Doll and the esteemed Mrs. Kissinger.  I am weary to the bone.  I am furious with my body.  I am frustrated that it keeps betraying me, that it keeps me from doing what I want to do, and what I need to do.  I am pissed that I keep having to have surgeries, and that means training others to do my job, and the worst stress of all?  Since we don’t have a full-time referral coordinator, Mrs. K and I have to do all of the high dollar procedure authorizations ourselves…they are the bane of our existence! 

Sometimes, I just want to haul off and bitch slap someone.  Am I alone here?  Hasn’t everyone felt like that from time to time?  Don’t you ever have a “Springer moment” where you just want to go “old school“ on someones’ ass?   All I know is, the best thing a person can do when they feel like that is to just keep clear of others.  I wish there was a way for me to clear out of my own way for a bit.  There is nothing worse than looking in the mirror, and having your own reflection give you an attitude!  

S.A.D. vrs S.A.A.D. (Seasonal Attitude Adjustment Dilemma) November 16, 2010

Here in the land of the perpetually drizzly Pacific NW, there are more people here that are afflicted with S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder) than not.  Everyone here is terribly Vitamin D deficient, lack of sunshine will do that to a person.  Six months of rain will also work its wonderful magic on a persons’ psyche, leaving people in great need of S.A.A.D., or what The Doll likes to refer to as, “Seasonal Attitude Adjustment Dilemma.”

Interesting how both seem to show their seasonally depressing asses right as we head into the festive holiday season.  Ain’t that some seriously screwed up shit??  Just when we are supposed to be painting on our holiday cheer, and whooping it up in grand mistletoe mayhem, we find that we just can’t quite get into it……we are in desperate need of, a seasonal attitude adjustment.  I don’t think any amount of Vitamin D will do the trick.  Heck, I don’t think there is enough Vitamin D on the whole freakin’ planet to get this Doll out of her S.A.A.D. funk.  I don’t suppose a Chiropractor could do an attitude adjustment on me….I would LOVE to see how that would be coded for insurance purposes!! 

I am feeling perpetually cynical, sarcastic, and sardonic.  I need a shakeup, I need some magic!  Maybe I am in a holiday  rut?  Most (normal?)  people would call that “tradition” – I guess I am bored with all of the “holiday same old, same old” – I am feeling the need to switch things up a bit….but I am afraid that not only would my suggestions be completely shouted down, I am afraid that if we didn’t do it the same old way, that somehow I would be disappointed…..that in the end, it is the sameness, even in its lameness, that we look forward to.  Now THAT’S SAD!!!    

Turn This Mess Around November 18, 2010

I awoke this morning, grabbed my first cup of coffee, and read some of the comments posted by my faithful flock for my blog post yesterday, and decided then and there to flip an internal switch, with the hopes of turning this mess of emotions around.

The Doll would like to thank those who took the time to post comments, because you truly inspired me to mix things up, try a different route, move to a different rhythm, hum a different tune….listen to the wind.

The first thing I did, was to take the Tankster for his morning constitutional.  Thank the good Lord above, that in the few months we have had our beloved pup-a-rino, he has figured out that The Doll has trouble with her speech in the morning, and has learned “Doll-speak” on the fly.  “PppppPuppy nneed ttttttooooo ggGo pppppuppppeepppppeeeee?”  UUUUGGGHHH!!!!  He is such a good sport, he just bounces his front paws off my thighs, and runs over to the drawer where we stow his leash.  Still in a Lyrica fog, I was content to let Tank take the alpha dog – in front position, and lead me around like a simpleton.   

He took me down a side street that we hadn’t walked much in the last few weeks, and at that early hour, there wasn’t nary a car in sight, so we walked at a brisk pace right down the middle of the road.  At first I wanted to protest…”oh shit, the Tank Man is making me do hills at this un-Godly hour” – but as I watched my beloved canine child prancing along, ears flapping in the breeze, I could not help but find his utter joy at being out in the early morning drizzly air infectious! I even started to imagine what it would be like to have my ears flapping in the wind!

The next thing I did was put on a new pair of huge dangle earrings – never before seen by man nor beast, and built my big-ass hairdo around them.  Then I took a different route to work! I took all of your suggestions, and fit each one into my jigsaw puzzle of a life, and managed – at least for today to turn this mess around.  And it was glorious!!! 

Moment By Moment November 20, 2010

Breaking it down.  No, The Doll did not say, “I’m having a break down,” I said, “breaking it down.”  Sometimes, nothing strikes more fear and horror in the heart of The Doll than to be asked, “did you have a good day?”  TBG asks me that every evening.  If I say “not so much,” he kind of moves the conversation along so he doesn’t have to listen.  TBG never has been good at understanding that women, when they want to dissect their day, or a portion of their day, we don’t want men to “fix it,” we just want to vent, or  bounce the experience off of another human being.  Some people just don’t have it in them to be a good listener.  I have learned that our spouse does not have to be our “everything.”  That is a lot of pressure to put on one person.  That is why The Doll has friends, and this lovely space to hear my confessions, my musings, my bitching.

Yesterday was a “not so great day” if you looked at its entirety.  I had been dealing with a rotten cold all week-long, I didn’t have a good nights sleep the night before because TBG was sawing some serious timber, and my tummy was feeling queasy.  But there were moments.  Delicious moments of pure joy.  One in particular, happened on my break.  I was perusing my home email, when I spotted one from a very dear friend.  I immediately smiled.  In the course of his brief missive, he gave me a days worth of warmth and joy.  He reminisced about a dinner we had together shortly before my birthday, which was beyond fun!!  And then he actually made my heart swell by telling me that he reads my silly blog every time I post, and that it brightens his day.  It meant so much to hear that.  You throw out these words to the universe, and you never know…..you just never know if there is any kind of impact.  I am no Pulitzer writer, NOT by a long shot!  But if what is going on in my world, if my silly drivel  speaks to another human being, it sincerely touches my very soul.  

The afternoon was made even brighter because Mrs. Kissinger and I got into one of our famous giggle-filled conversations, while keying away the rest of the work day.  Moments.  Treasure the  moments.

Today, Tank and I were out walking, and we happened upon a gentleman who was out with his dog.  I stiffened.  The Tankster is a joy, but….he does need a little help with his social skills.  He is GREAT with humans, and some cats, but he does need a little remedial training when it comes to his manners with other canines.  We had seen this man before, and Tank had not reacted with the graciousness The Doll had hoped for.  This time, Steph very patiently talked both of us off the “dog meet dog ledge,” and explained it might just be “leash anxiety.”  Some dogs, especially small dogs think they need to act with aggression when on their leashes so the other dog will not think they are weak.  As we stood there amiably chatting, I could see that his dog, Bruce, was being a very patient teacher.  He just stood very still, and let Tank sniff him all over, and by the time we walked back with them to the main road, Tank was calm, and prancing right next to his new well-behaved friend.   Not every day is a good day, but if you look really close, there are moments.  Search.  Seek them out, and hold each one close to your heart.  You may find that just reliving that snippet in time will warm your heart before any icicles can form. 

Thanksgiving….At The Doll’s House November 26, 2010

Thanksgiving…..ah, the images just hearing the word whispered evokes in my mind’s eye.  Visions of my mother whipping up the most incredible, succulent meal…and whipping herself into a frenzy in the process.  Her first course compote of lovely berries and orange slices steeped in some fragrant liquor.   I distinctly remember one particular Thanksgiving holiday when her parents visited us in Philadelphia, and between the “cocktail hour,” the spiked fruit compote, and wine with dinner, most of the adults were passed out in the living room by the time the pie was put away, and it was time to start in on the mountain of dishes!

The holiday started out on a slightly different note this morning.  TBG was in a seriously crankalicious state the night before, so The Doll had no idea what the new day was about to bringeth upon my slightly slept upon curly coif.  I had let the Tankster sleep in the sun porch, figuring TBG would get a better rest if he didn’t have paws poking into him every time he started snoring.  Well, when TBG awoke, he let Tank in our room to sleep with me for a while.  When I got up about an hour later, the first thing my still sandman-filled eyes spied, was a rather large pile of paper towels on the sun porch floor.  So…..I guess I am thankful that my dogs kidneys work!!

I noticed something else too.  Sometime in-between sleeping, and puppy pee detail, TBG’s mood was significantly lighter.  I never knew that dog pee could be a mood stabilizer!!  Maybe The Doll should bottle the stuff!!   

Our morning progressed to a delicious breakfast prepared by TBG, and The Doll making luscious banana bars with real cream cheese frosting for our dessert to top off our feast.  Both of us were really looking forward to having my younger son over for dinner.  Even though he lives just a few minutes away from us, we don’t get to see him very often.  Everyone gets so busy with their own lives.  I am thankful that TBG and I took the time to meet his two new kittens when we picked him up.  I am thankful that we got to marvel at how miraculously clean his fish tank was, and how well he was tending to every little detail – now that he had finally moved the damn thing to his father’s house…..after almost 3 years of it languishing in his old room at mine.   

I am thankful that my elder son and I got to text this morning, and that he had some place to have dinner tonight.  I am grateful to those who have befriended him, and took him in to share their food and their families with him.  I am thankful for the many text messages I got from friends and family near and far today full of merriment and well wishes.  And The Doll is thankful for YOU – the few faithful flock who read my drivel and somehow make sense of it all.  Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Decadent Downtown Adventure December 6, 2010

 

Sometimes, over-planning is completely over-rated!  Once in a while, you just have to put yourself out there, and fly by the seat of your perfectly pressed pants.  The Doll and the illustrious Mrs. Kissinger decided to do this very thing on a Saturday night a week ago, and lived to tell the tale!

As is most often the case when the two of us get together for a night out on the town, we have found that the best laid plans are best left to other people.  The only thing we knew for sure, was that we were going to wind up seeing a comedian at the historic Moore Theater in downtown Seattle.  So it was that we found ourselves picking a completely random parking lot in what we hoped was in the near vicinity of our eventual final destination!  Little did we know, as we parked the car, paid for our ticket, and sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that it would still be there when we returned, just how fortuitous that particular parking spot would be for us just a few hours later!

We started walking in search of a decent eating establishment, because (Natch) we hadn’t thought to make dinner reservations!  And, why would we?  We were two hot gals out on a wild adventure.  To make dinner plans would be like not trusting the universe to provide for us.  No sir, we were winging in all the way baby! 

As we passed The Mayflower Hotel, we stopped ever so briefly to peruse the menu for The Andaluca Restaurant.  Mrs. K wasn’t all that enthused, so we continued on our merry way, confidant in the fact that a wonderful meal was awaiting us somewhere along our jaunty walk.  As our crazy luck would have it, there wasn’t an available seat anywhere, in ANY decent eatery we poked our perfectly coiffed heads into – not even at the bar!  So…..we headed on back to the Andaluca, where we walked right up to the maitre d’, and asked with the utmost confidence of someone  who was positive there was one available – for a table for two!

Mr. Snooty Man looked us commoners up and down, and thought for a moment, then said, “Ah, yes….well…there is this one table I can give you.”  We were seated in a tiny booth, right next to the coat rack, and then we were completely ignored for the next fifteen minutes!  What on earth does a Doll have to do to get a cocktail in this joint anyway???  While we waited for what seemed like an eternity for someone to notice us, and offer us some form of liquid refreshment, we sat back and drank in the tantalizing atmosphere.  The ambiance is very pleasant, with a mediterranean current running through it.    Although the service was slow, we certainly wouldn’t think twice about trying this lovely eatery again when we don’t have any time constraints.  We thoroughly enjoyed watching the other patrons, who quite obviously did not have the first clue as to how to let their hair down a bit.  I am sure some of those blue haired gals thought we were quite ghastly!  I couldn’t give a rats ass!  I firmly believe that if you find something amusing, laugh out loud!!  The Doll does have a rather raucous laugh, and it generally garners more than a few looks.

After we finished our delightful meal, we headed out in search of our final destination:  The Moore Theater!  When we reached the top of the hill, we were right back at our starting point – the parking lot!!  And, behold – the car was still there!!!  Feeling a little buzzed, and trying our best to appear sober and in full control of our collective faculties, we traipsed down the street in the direction we (actually, Mrs. K) thought we were supposed to be going.  She handed me a piece of paper with the address on it, and I abruptly stopped dead in my tracks and spun around.  To my utter astonishment, and complete delight, the theater was just one block up the street from the parking lot!!!!  It all just fell blissfully into place! Like we ever had a doubt in the world that it wouldn’t!

Reflections December 11, 2010

This has been an exceptionally stressful week for The Doll.  Work stress is revving up to near-boiling over point, and along with that, emotions are running high, and the fact that it is just two weeks until Christmas is just candied unidentifiable orbs on top of the pervasive fruit cake!    

    

I have been in a rather reflective mood this week as well.  It was the two-year anniversary of the passing of my brother-in-law.  I still struggle with the “what ifs.”  What if he had listened to me.  What if he had come in to see one of my doctors.  What if he had gone to the emergency room.  What if I had been more persuasive…..    

I saw my mom last weekend, and had a lovely visit.  We hadn’t seen each other in quite some time, and I received an email from her a couple of days later, and in it she said that in my face she could see the pain I having been bearing for so long.  That although I cover it well with my silliness, a Mother can still see…and it made her sad.  That made me sad…and caused me reflect on the various ways we try to sustain ourselves in times of hardship, physical pain, loss, and long-term/chronic stress.    

    

Her note also made me think of the movie, “It’s Complicated,” and the scene where Meryl Streep is stoned, and she looks in the mirror, and horror-stricken she exclaims, “Is THAT what I look like???!!!”  That scene made me laugh SO hard, and Mrs. Kissinger and I still giggle madly every time we think about it.  But, it is so true!!!  We go about our lives, and deal with the daily doldrums, and think we are holding up well under the pressure….add another coating of mascara to brighten our eyes….but the mirror tells all.  Of course, it all depends on the lighting!   

Stuck In The Middle With You December 13, 2010

As those of you who tune in to read my posts are all too intimately familiar with my comings and goings with various family members, I just had to give you all the 411 on the latest quandary.

The Doll received a rebuke…a kindly worded one, but a rebuke none the less.   My elder son recently was running on the manic side of his bipolar existence, and The Doll – being The Doll, and never one to shy away from talking about the real stuff in my world, decided to post an update about his condition on my FB page.  This was done with the utmost decorum and discretion – I never name names, and never post things that might embarrass him…it is more to share on a broader spectrum so I don’t have to repeat myself time and time again answering emails, and private messages, ask for support for me, and prayers for his safety and well-being.  Tonight, I received a message from the younger son telling me I really shouldn’t be posting about the elder boy on FB -  it is private, and the elder son probably wouldn’t like it.  Whew!  I feel like I have just exited a confessional!   

There you have it…I am damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.  Try as I might to stay aloof, and try as I might to remove myself from being the keeper of information, it always seems to come back around to me being the one person people always come to when they want an update on #1 son’s condition.  And, since this is my one safe venue – my one place I can say anything, and express how I truly feel about any given subject….and my faithful flock let me just be me…I am forever, and faithfully, stuck in the middle with you.

Cartwheeling December 28, 2010

Have you ever had a moment where your tummy feels like you have been doing one cart-wheel after another?  Or have you ever experienced the sensation of leaving your stomach behind as you careen down the death-defying slope of an out of control roller coaster and your heart is in your throat?  No, The Doll is NOT having a panic attack!!  This is The Doll during the “over extend yourself, running out of time, crazy holiday extravaganza season.”

Why is it that December holidays always seem to catch me off guard?  I always seem so surprised when they roll around.  Wasn’t it just Thanksgiving like two seconds ago??!  Maybe it’s because most of the birthdays in our family go from August right through November, and we just kind of catch our breath, and then the roller coaster of life take us on another mind-bending, chest clutching full-on holiday sky-rocket!

As I mentioned a post or two ago, The Doll has been in a rather reflective mood as of late.  Too many things to do, places to go, shopping, cooking, and work is just icing on the cake.  Come January 3rd, our office will have a whole new computer system, and a whole new array of things to stress this Doll out.  It is terrifying and thrilling all at the same time  – another reason for the perpetual side effect of butterflies mucking about in my innards!  Sometimes we just have to say “no” to certain invitations in order to keep things somewhat balanced in this topsy-turvy life.  Tonight I sent TBG off to have dinner at his parents’ house for a nice prime rib dinner.  It is something that usually occurs Christmas Eve, but “The chairman of the board” (my Mother-in-law) had a family emergency, and it had been postponed.  I just couldn’t do it.  Work has been insane, I barely made it through Christmas as it was, and I didn’t think I could muster up the energy or enthusiasm to re-engage the Christmas spirit – truth be told, I am ready to send this year cartwheeling off into infinity and beyond, and welcome what the New Year has to offer. 

Set ‘Em Up, Joe January 4, 2011

The Doll had the most delicious conversation with Mrs. Kissinger last Thursday.  She was digging through an enormous stack of file folders, as we were kissing one computer system goodbye, and awaiting with much trepidation the installation of our new system which took effect today.  As she sorted through her loot, she jauntily announced, “Ok, if I die tomorrow, here is where you will find important information….like your personnel files!!”  I asked her if she was planning on “clocking out” for reals, and she assured me that she was just being her ever efficient self!

I then posed the question…..”I wonder if there is a bar in the after life….and I wonder if it has a fabulous bartender!”  And – while we are at it, let’s pretend it is always 5:00pm in the “afterlife bar!”  Mrs. K thought for a moment, and then she suddenly brightened and said, “I want Isaac from ‘The Love Boat’ to be my bartender!”   Aahhhh, Isaac…he was one smooth dude!  Always had a smile at the ready, didn’t talk too much, good listener…yeah, I can see that!

So The Doll has been asking around, posing the same question to all sorts of people from all walks of life, and I have heard some very interesting responses!  I was surprised how many folks said they wanted to be their own bartender because they pour a very strong drink!

One person said they wanted Buddha!!  This of course reminded The Doll of a fabulous libation called, “A suffering Bastard!” – This particularly strong creation of some crazed mixologist is served in a Buddha bar glass! (Actually, it is more like a Hawaiian tiki glass, but let’s not get all technical on my ass, ok??)

  This same personage thought good old Winston Churchill – would be an excellent choice since he was a great piece of history, and liked to tie one on as well!

Me?  I picture myself in a dimly lit smoky bar – like The Sands, in The Rat Pack era.  Perhaps I am some part-time torch singer/group photographer…hired to take pictures of folks at their table to take home as a memento of their visit to Vegas.  I want one of those old-time bartenders who pour with a heavy hand, have a sympathetic ear, and keep away the riffraff!

Now it is your turn!  The Doll is just dying to know….who is your pick for bartender in the here after?

Sparkle January 5, 2011

The Doll has always been of the mind-set that no matter how you are feeling on the inside, if you take a little extra time getting ready in the morning…you know, give your hair a little bit more foof, glam the eye makeup a bit….at some point in the day, your insides will match your outsides!

I had one of the worst days yesterday, and as Tank and I were doing our usual morning constitutional, I was full of dread, feeling weepy, and just about ready to throw in the towel.  BUT just before we went out into the frosty morning air, I chatted briefly with my cousin Pooks in Brazil by way of Skype, and asked her to PLEASE send joy work fairies A.S.A.P!!!!

She faithfully promised to send them, but asked that as I drive to the office, I focus on how I would like the day to go….. I wanted fewer interruptions, I wanted to have my procedure preauthorizations to go through without a hitch, and I wanted to feel less panicky and stressed.  More important, I wanted my usual positive and sparkly nature to shine through – no matter what crazy shit may hit the fan!!

In the shower, I was having a mighty tug of war in my head.  I SO wanted to just stay in my funky pissed off pity party corner, but even I was getting sick of ME!!!  I took a little bit of extra care with The Doll’s ‘do, jazzed up the eyes with some liquid eyeliner, and wore my bitchin’ black leather “biker bitch” jacket as my suit of armor.

As I walked up to the main entrance to my office, I shook off the last bit of gloom that was stuck in my stubborn craw, forced the shoulders back, gave my hair one last fluff, and strutted in as if yesterday hadn’t meant a thing.  And lo and behold, every time my mood attempted to darken, I could feel a little fairy dust get tossed into the air, and the room would erupt into glorious peals of laughter.  No matter what is going on in your life, there is nothing worth losing your sparkle over it!  Now, get on out there, and get on wit ya bad ass self!!!

Meltdowns and Mellow drama January 5, 2011

The Doll had quite a challenge on her perfectly manicured hands today.  How to keep my sparkle twinkling when all around me at the office I have been completely bombarded with meltdowns and mellow drama.

I must point out that the saving grace in this cesspool of insurance authorizations, short tempers, frayed nerves, and computer system confusion, is that at least not all of us were having a meltdown at the exact same time, which allowed other team members to experience the gift of talking another person off the ledge before they completely lost it!

I think it is so important to remember that people all handle stress differently.  The Doll is wound pretty dang tight….perhaps the fact that I have naturally curly hair has something to do with that.  When you have cork screw curls, you are spring-loaded from your head to your toes.  I find it hard to leave the job behind when I walk out the door at night.  Others can roll with the punches, or have the ability to at least swim past the rip tide to stand on the sand bar while the waves crash around them.  

I think it is so vital to be able to maintain a sense of humor, and a level of sensitivity.  If your cohort is on the verge of throwing up their hands, and raising the white flag, try to diffuse instead of pouring gasoline on the poor puss and tossing a match in for good measure.  Thank God for my beloved Mrs. Kissinger!  She came back from an errand today with a CD for us to listen to – all fabulous Vegas headliners from the 50′s and 60′s!!!!  Aaaahhh….those were the days my friends.  That was the fabulous era when it was common place to walk into your bosses office after a tough day, and he would pour you two fingers of scotch!!  Well, since we can’t do that, Mrs. K also brought me a nice bottle of wine to sooth my ruffled feathers and battered brain cells.  She also has been brilliant in her ability to make me laugh at the most absurd times, and was right there with me as my back up singer as I let out a string of F-bomb arias.

What would The Doll do without her peeps?  I would be shit out of luck, that’s for damn sure!  I depend on each of them – and you, my faithful flock, to help me change my sparkle light bulbs when they burn out.

Just Along For The Ride January 7, 2011

Life, it seems is just this perpetual motion machine.  And there are times, as much as The Doll hates to admit it, that I have no control over anything going on in mine.  There are days when I literally feel like I am stuck inside a Vitamix, and I am being chopped and spun into a gazillion little pieces.  Other days are like I have jumped off a stage into a mosh pit where the revelers pass and toss me over their heads like a rag doll, leaving me breathless, bruised and looking for a safety net.

People will often wish they could freeze a moment in time when they are experiencing something extraordinary.  I haven’t felt that excitement very often lately.  Most days I feel like I am just along for the ride, and the ride I am on needs new suspension, brakes, updated upholstery, and a large supply of barf bags.

This has been one of the most stressful, exhausting, and frustrating work weeks I have ever experienced, and I have never in my life looked  forward to a weekend more than I am tonight. I hate this feeling.  I don’t like when I feel I am not heard, when it appears decisions are being made for me – with no input from me, and my life is suddenly careening down a cliff side like a stolen car being taken for a joy ride….except - where’s MY joy???

Much to my dismay, my poor little poochie boy, Tank, has been feeling the strain I am under – he SO looks forward to our after dinner walks, and I have gotten home late every night this week.  Tonight, I decided to let Tank take me on a joy ride.

It was raining pretty hard as we set off down the street, but I shook off a wave of crankiness, and focussed on seeing the scenery through his eyes.  How lovely it must feel to have a half an hour every night just you and your person.  TBG says he greets him warmly too, but then he sits on a blanket on our couch just waiting for me to get home – SO faithful!  I watched Tank explore each tree trunk, snuffle all the telephone poles, fire hydrants and trash cans waiting for pick up at curb side.  I delighted in his prancing cantor, and the way he will get his nose to the ground and start sprinting along the grass parking strip like he is part of a fox hunt. I laughed out loud when he summoned his most ferocious bark to the surface to ward off the fake decorative snowman in someone’s front yard – such a dork!!  But you should have seen the swagger on him when he decided he had won that round.  I decided not to tease him too badly about the fact that it really hadn’t been much of a match.  After all, I was lucky enough just to be along for the ride.

Tank’s In Need Of Some Couch Time January 12, 2011

The Doll is very puzzled.  Ever since I adopted my beloved Tank last August, I have given my faithful flock updates on his antics, as well as my own anxiety about being a canine parent.  Those of you who tune in are well aware of my pup’s fixation on snowmen – whether made from real snow, or plastic yard decorations during the holiday season.

Last night, I got a first-hand look into the warped mind of my pooch.  His fixation took on a whole new edge, in fact, I do believe it has progressed into a full-blown psychosis!!   We were out for our usual evening constitutional, when the little brute slowed his pace as he became aware of an object on the opposite side of the street.  I could make out a medium-sized white bucket with a couple of towels sitting on top of it.  It was just sitting there on the grassy parking strip as if someone had washed their car, and then drove off without their bucket.

To Tank, I am sure it looked like the bottom of a snowman.  You see, last Thanksgiving, our first snow of the season – there was this one yard that we passed where some kids had built a snowman.  As it began to melt, he continued to bark at it even when it was down to its base!  In fact, even after the snow was completely cleared, he still would slow as we approached that house, and peek into the yard ready to fend off the icy beast!

I decided we needed to face his obsession head-on!  We went down another block, and crossed the street so he would have to get up close and personal with the bucket.  Just as before, his prancing came to a dead halt, the hackles went up on the back of his neck, and a slow growl started to bubble up from the depths of his tiny bowel.  I walked right up to it, which of course forced him to go into protection mode.  He certainly couldn’t allow me to get close to this thing while he maintained a safe distance.  He sniffed at it, growled again, sniffed the towels,and looked at me as if to say, “Well, false alarm this time - but you can never be too careful – these snow things can be very deceptive!!”

SIGH…..where is a good dog shrink when you need one??

To Resolute, Or Not….That Is The Question January 14, 2011

As we come to the end of the second week of the New Year, The Doll is wondering how folks are doing with their New Year’s resolutions.

Did you make any?  If so, in the course of these past two weeks, did you break any?

The Doll, as a general rule, does not usually make any….I find it is a recipe for disaster – let alone sets me up for almost instant failure.  So each year for the last 3-4 I think, I have just vowed to be a better person than I was the previous twelve months.

It isn’t always an easy task!  Mrs. Kissinger is always there to remind me along the way though with her gentle, and sometimes annoying, “be the bigger person, Doll.”  There have been times I have (rather snappily) replied, “why do I always have to be the fucking ‘bigger person,’ huh??!!”  Why indeed!!!! 

So tell me, how do you deal with the whole resolution decision?

Effectively Ineffective January 17, 2011

The Doll has a question for the faithful flock this evening.  Has anyone out there in Doll land ever felt ineffective at something?  Anything – no matter big or small, personal or professional, and I swear, I won’t laugh, judge or in any way make you feel even more ineffective for letting the cat out of the bag! 

The reason I ask, other than “Inquiring minds want to know…” is today, I felt completely ineffective in my job.  And, it goes SO much farther than just working with a new computer system.  Yes this system is cumbersome, but it isn’t the only thing making my life a living Hell here on earth in the work world.  It’s the no insurance loaded, patients not built into the system, having to look numerous places just to get one piece of information to get one part of a task done.

This afternoon, I was building a new patient file, and Mrs. Kissinger kept asking me how I was doing.  At one point, in what felt like 45 minutes into the arduous task, Mrs. K giddily retorted, “are you feeling ineffective yet?”  To which I just had to laugh and say, “Why yes!!!  In FACT – I am extremely effective at being ineffective!!!”  

I don’t know if that is something to be really proud of, but at this point, it was absolutely grand to be able to be good and effective at SOMETHING!!!  Today I told myself I would remain in a positive mind-set, no matter what….and you know what I discovered?  I am also pretty damn good, dare I say effective, at laughing in the face of adversity!

Kind Words, Truly Spoken January 19, 2011

The Doll had a dreadfully sleepless night Monday night.  Part of it was because TBG was trying to reach a new all time high score for sawing logs, and what rest I did manage to eek out was disrupted by stress dreams.  Lovely…..

With the terrible natural disasters that are happening right now in Brazil and Australia, my problems seem trivial I am sure, but the last couple of days at the office – the level of stress on each employee’s face when they pop into the biz office for a brief moment of reprieve makes me feel helpless.

I can’t help with their work load, because each and every one of us has reached the very top of the utmost limits as far as how much you can ask a single person or an individual department to do – we are all maxed…at this point, half a straw will certainly threaten to break all the camels backs in this desert storm!!

I realized what could be done when I arrived to work yesterday morning, and its simplicity nearly bowled me over like picking up a 2/10 split in a beer drenched bowling tourney!  I went into the kitchen to put my things in the fridge, and one of my cohorts was checking out the daily headlines and working on a freshly brewed morning elixir.  He looked up from his paper, greeted me with a beautifully cheery smile, and said, “You look great!”  Three little words never sounded more genuine, and were never needed as much as The Doll needed them at that very moment.  In times of strife and unimaginable stress people either pull together and support one another, or they turn on each other and get into the “every man for him/her self” mind-set.

The Doll has never been one to blow smoke up someone’s ass, and I never, ever give a compliment when I don’t truly feel it.  No one benefits from empty words.  But kind words, truly spoken go a long way in soothing a frayed mind, bridging gaps between departments, and feeding and nurturing a comrade deeply entrenched in ever-present stress.  Mrs. Kissinger and I were able to witness this again at the end of the day when one of our front desk peeps brought us her money bag, and there it was….THE LOOK.  Eyes red and ready to brim over, shoulders slumped, and an over-all aura of defeat.  Rather than just letting her walk back out feeling like she never wanted to return, we took a few minutes to let her decompress, and helped to coax her off the ledge.  By the time she did turn to go, her face was brighter, her shoulders were up-right, and we even witnessed a brief whisper of a smile pass across her formerly pinched lips. 

I hope our words helped her to leave the work day behind as she was off to spend a quiet evening with a good friend and a bowl of popcorn……a task The Doll is still struggling to learn how to do.  Kind words, spoken truly, and from the heart can be as life saving as a sand bag in a flood.  People have a choice….they can either be the tidal wave that finally topples an already struggling village, or they can put their hip-waders on, and pass that person a sand bag of hope. 

 

 

 

Stormy Weather January 28, 2011

The Doll has been feeling like I am in the eye of the storm as of late.  And I don’t just think that it is because it’s the dead of winter, and storms have been rolling in one on top of  another, or that the winds of change have been blowing all through my place of employment.  I am a true blue Libra, and anyone who knows a Libra knows we don’t bode well when our house is out-of-order, or the scales are off kilter.

Although I am a self-proclaimed drama queen by nature, I do not like drama, nor do I go looking for it, and I go out of my way to not allow other people’s drama to spill all over me.  In other words, I am not a “storm chaser!”

So, imagine the state of The Doll’s hair when I realized that as my attention was otherwise engaged on healing from my surgery these past few months, a storm has been brewing and gaining momentum right under my normally well honed barometer.  The funny thing is, my “spidey sense” had given me a warning last fall.  My cousin Pooks and I talk about our gift of “knowing” often, and how when we listen to that voice within ourselves, things just naturally fall into balance.  It is when we shut down, or shut out our intuitive nature that we allow outside forces to gain control of our destiny.

The Doll’s head has been spinning like Dorothy’s must have been after she got hit in the noggin, and woke up with Toto inside the twister.  Just as Dorothy found herself dealing with a witch who was after her for no reason except that the good witch Glinda had gifted her with the ruby slippers, I have been dealing with a person who has set her sights on me for no other reason that I can see, except for coveting what I have. 

The Doll has, for the most part, not engaged in battle with this person.  And in hind-sight, my opponent may have felt that I was an easy target.  While I was attempting the all-powerful “bigger person” stance, this personage erroneously thought the base coach was waiving her home, and has been gaining speed to knock me off the plate while she slides in.   I guess she didn’t see the bucket of water next to the base bag.  One must always be prepared when dealing with a bitch….I mean witch.      :)

Is Avoidance The Answer? February 3, 2011

There is a wonderful country song that The Doll is very fond of called, “You say it best, when you say nothing at all.”  In fact, many moons ago when I went through my divorce, I went through a country phase, and this song was in my stock pile of karaoke treasures I would whip out whenever the spirit hit me.  

A few months ago, I wrote a post about my brother-in-law, and my mixed reviews of my feelings for him, and the struggles I have in regards to how to – or whether to share those thoughts with TBG. 

The Doll is here to tell you, it is shit or get off the pot time, as the man who has caused me MUCH angst is back in town, and I am more befuddled than ever!  I had a very harried chat with Pooks about it on Skype on Tuesday as soon as I found out he would be arriving that night.  I overheard TBG yakking on his cellie as I was trying to nap.  (I was home nursing a bad sinus/ear infection, and Tank was keeping a watchful eye on me while perched on my chest!)

The one thing that made me wake up in earnest, was TBG’s suggestion that his brother and his friend come over this coming Sunday to watch the Super Bowl!!!  Oh Hell to the NO!!!!  The LAST thing this Doll wants is to play football wife to THREE guys, especially when one of them wouldn’t even bother to have a cup of coffee with my kid even though they live in the same town! 

Pooks suggested that I make like a tree and just leaf!  She said sometimes avoidance is just better than getting into a big “to do” and given the fact that said B.I.L. will most likely only be available to see TBG on that one day, The Doll is inclined to agree!

Along the same lines of incommunicado, the other situation I alluded to in my last post has also – for the most part – kind of resolved itself without me having to get all up in her bidness!  Sometimes if you just wait things out, a person’s behavior will reveal itself to those that need to see it most.  You know the saying about giving a person enough rope?  I am glad to report that The Doll did not have to step in to play the role of “hangman!”

So, there you have it.  You can call me “Old Yeller,” or “Chicken shit chick” – but life is stressful enough without adding to your own stress level unnecessarily….at least that’s my story that I am sticking to today.   And, as I often do when closing, The Doll is dying to know…in situations like these…what would you, my faithful flock do if you were wearing my fashionable footwear?

What’s THAT All About?! February 16, 2011

Just when The Doll thought it was safe to come out of her self-imposed exile, I was side swiped by a surprise revelation right in the middle of a nice conversation with The Chairman of the Board.

For those who don’t tune in regularly, TCOTB is my fabulous Mother-in-law, whom I have always shared a very close and warm friendship with.   I had just poked my perfectly coiffed head out of its hide hole where I had been keeping a uncharacteristic low profile until my BIL had left (finally!) to go back home, and thought it would be a nice time to catch up with my MIL.

Every spring the two of us start brain storming about the approaching dahlia season, and what our strategy is going to be to ensure we bring home the most blue ribbons/cash money for all our hard work in our dahlia gardens.  I have really been looking forward to this season, since last year I was pretty much sidelined with three blown disks in my neck making it impossible for me to participate in any of the events.

So, you can imagine The Dolls’ shock and awe when my MIL informed me that she was under the impression that I wasn’t interested in doing any dahlia activities with her anymore, so she had already enlisted her grandson to be her new partner in dahlia propagation!    There was no, “just thought I’d ask,” or even a hint of, “I was just paying my annual dues to the club, so I wondered if you were interested in being on the family plan…..”  not a word – just a quick behind the scenes cast member replacement.  I felt like the understudy who had been standing in for the star of the show, but was then asked to go back to waiting in the wings now that the ailing actress was back and ready to resume her run.  I guess I should have seen it coming.  My MIL’s daughter and her family just moved back here last spring, and bought a house right down the street from my in-laws, and The Chairman has been thrilled to have them all so close by.  With me out of commission last growing season, my MIL was happy to have her grandson showing an interest in learning all the ins and outs of working the dahlia circuit.  Still….it would have been nice to have been asked before being tossed aside like last shows wilted blooms, but what’s a Doll to do?? 

Looking For Joy In All The Wrong Places February 23, 2011

The Doll has been having a tidal wave of emotions roiling around in my brain, my tummy, and my subconsciousness, and I have come to the conclusion that, (duh) I am only responsible for me, my actions, my inactions, my feelings, my words, and most of all my joy.  No one else owns any of that.  Why am I always surprised when I come up with that answer?

Why is it that people seem to expect other folks to aid them in the joy equation?  There is joy everywhere, bundles of it, oodles of it – just there for the taking.  Could it be that we are looking for joy in all the wrong places?  Kinda sounds like a bad 70′s sappy love song, but truthfully, I think that if more people took more ownership in their personal joy journey, they would work much harder at attaining that goal.

Where do you find your joy?  If you are finding that joy is harder and harder to come by lately, where have you been looking?  Not finding it there?  Perhaps you are looking for joy in all the wrong places….maybe its time to look a little closer, because I think you might find a little dormant joy right inside your own heart.  Give it a little nudge.

I’m Bringing Sassy Back March 10, 2011

It has been brought to The Doll’s attention lately, on more than one occasion mind you, that a vital part of my persona has been M.I.A. – yes, dear flock, I am referring to my smart ass sassy girl self!

I can’t really put my finger on a map and tell you the exact location it got drop-kicked to, but I am making it my mission, no…..dare I say crusade to try my best to retrace my steps – without reliving any of the moments of the past few months – to bring my sassy back to its rightful place.

There is something truly wonderful about sassy.  It’s saucy, clever, cheeky, a little off-color without being over the top offensive.  And, it seems that folks who are blessed with the gift of sass, may acquire the art/skill of witty repartee.  Another mainstay of my sassy-gal personality that has been sadly missing throughout this long, dark, wet, and lackadaisical winter.  I’ll admit it, The Doll has been rather quiet and  dangerously close to the point of utter dulls-ville without her tart tongue!

A sassy gal need not be sexy in the classic sense, but sass  itself adds its own element of sex appeal.  There is something genuinely attractive to others when a sassy gal can hold her own in a conversation.  I adore what I call “verbal volley ball.”  It is an amazing natural high when you can trade barbs back and forth with another person on par with your level of spiciness!  Others stand back and watch like a virtual ping-pong match, and nod in amazement each time another zinger is lobbed over the net.

Yes sir, I am more than satisfied with letting Justin Timberlake to bring sexy back.  My own sex appeal will make a natural comeback as soon as my sass is firmly back in place.  Who’s with me?  All in favor, say “I!!”

Crystal Clear April 5, 2011

The Doll  had the most incredible experience recently, and I have been trying to piece it all together in my mind because I really want to honor the moment, and the people who made it all possible.

As I have touched on in previous posts, The Doll was blessed with the gift of intuition.  My cousin Pooks has been a wonderful mentor to me, as she too was born with a very strong psychic ability, and teaches a class on psychic development. She has really helped me to tap into my energy, to know what is a true message, and to trust my gut.  It has been hard, and a bit scary…but oh so exciting!!  To be able to share with you, my faithful flock, is just icing on the cake.

I have a dear friend who recently suffered the loss of her much beloved sister.  I have seen the  deep sorrow her passing has etched on my friends’ face, and I have wanted so badly to help her in some small way.  We have talked over the last couple of years about the spirit world, so I felt very comfortable when I asked the one question this inquiring psychic mind had to ask…..”Has your sister visited you since she passed?”  

Before I continue, I must give The Doll disclaimer….I have been  granted permission by my friend to write about both her experiences, and mine, but – as I usually do in my musings, I have given both her, and her sister “blog names” in order to protect her privacy.  So, in this recreation of our exchanges, my friend will be referred to as “Joellen,” and her sister will be known as “Tappy.”

Joellen got a smile on her face, and said, “Well, the weirdest thing happened a couple of nights ago.  I was in my house, and all of my animals started freaking out!  One ran out of the room and even hid in the bath tub!  Then I felt this soft stroke along my cheek….so…I don’t know, Doll.  Is this Tappy, or do I have some other spirit hanging around my house?”

I felt a tingling on the back of my neck, and something gave me the courage to blurt out, “Well, I am really green, but, if you’d like, I could attempt a reading for you, and we can find out for sure.”

Joellen didn’t even hesitate for a minute, she asked if I needed to know anything, to which I told her, “No – I don’t want to know anything, I want all messages to be untainted.  But if you have something of hers I can touch, it might help me to tapped into her energy.”  Joellen gave me the crucifix and a white crystal that Tappy was holding when she passed.  When she placed them in my hands, it was like an electrical current was running through my hands – even more than they usually do with my freaking nerve pain!!  It was rather startling!  In my next post, I will recount the entire reading, and Joellen’s confirmation of the messages that came through.  I hate to keep you hanging, but trust me – everything was crystal clear!

Crystal Clear…..The Reading April 12, 2011

As The Doll relayed in my last posting, I had the privilege to do a reading for a dear friend who had recently suffered the loss of her most beloved sister.  I wrote down every image, nuance, physical impression, and personal messages as it happened during my meditation in order to give a written accounting of my experience for Joellen.  What follows is my full text of the reading:

I lit my un-scented white candle, and held the wooden crucifix.  I cleared myself, asked for the white light of protection to be upon me, and asked that all messages that came through were from the light and of the highest vibration.  I asked for my spirit guides to protect and to assist me in this journey.  I could feel myself start to go into a meditation, but something pulled me back.  I put down the cross, and picked up the crystal Tappy had also been holding when she passed.  I held it next to the candle, and gazed into the flame, again clearing myself, and again asking for guidance and protection.   Images – I see delicate bone structure, dark blond hair.  Eyes, that were once full of life and laughter – now tired and full of dread.

Then Tappy came through:  “Not ready, not yet - WHY??  What will happen to my daughter?  So tired….tried SO hard to fight it.”  (Me) I feel tightness in my throat and chest – difficult to breathe.  Was her breathing labored in the end?  I sensed a difficult passing.

Image – Joellen and Tappy as young girls shopping at a record store together….…the word ”Beatles” flashes across my eyes..were you looking for a Beatles album?

Tappy – “I miss you, Jo.  I miss our talks, I miss doing things with you.  Please don’t be sad.  It hurts me so much to see the sadness in your eyes.  I need you to know I am ok now.  I need you to be ok with that.  I need you to go on – find your laughter again.  It is such a WONDERFUL sound…to hear you laugh….I miss laughing with you…”   

My spirit guide:  Spirit says there are no other spirits in your home at this time.  Spirit says the animals could smell the smell of death in the air, that is why they ran from the room.

I asked Tappy to give me an image so that Joellen would know this message was from her.  Image:  Bright, sunny day, you and Tappy each carrying a large bouquet of flowers, purple, yellow and pink, and placing them on a grave.  Saying a prayer together.  Looks like in the late spring time.  (does this mean anything to you?)

My spirit guide:  Spirit says, you carry a heavy load.  Be at peace because she is watching out for you and your children – she asks that you watch over her daughter, and thanks you for all you did for her.  Spirit has retreated. 

When I saw Joellen the day after the reading, I asked her ”So, who is the Beatles fan?”  Her eyes got big, and she said “Me!!  I mean, I couldn’t drive, so Tappy drove me everywhere I wanted to go, and she always took me to the record store to shop for the new 45′s!”  I asked her if Tappy had a hard time in the end, and explained the physical symptoms I experienced during the reading.  Joellen said that Tappy had been ill for quite a while, but it wasn’t until a couple of hours before she passed that she started really struggling for each breath, and she was caught off guard – she wasn’t ready to go, she was filled with regrets, and with dread.  I then asked her about the image of the cemetery, and the bouquets of flowers.  She said that she and Tappy always brought flowers to their father’s grave, and usually brought hyacinth because it was so fragrant.  The flowers I saw were pink and purple hyacinth, with yellow daffodils.

I want to thank Joellen for allowing me to go on this incredibly personal journey with her, and for allowing me to share this remarkable experience with my readers.  It was a difficult story to tell, to share.  It leaves me feeling open, and raw, and exposed.  But it was one of the most  moving and uplifting experiences I have ever had, and I am so happy I could give that gift to my friend.  I hope I have helped in some small way, because I can never thank her enough for helping me to grow and feel more confident about my intuitive gifts.  Thank you Jo.  Much love, Doll.  

Amazed And Overjoyed April 26, 2011

Can The Doll just say, “WOW!!!???”  It has been several weeks since I did the reading for my friend Jo, and a couple of weeks since I wrote about it, and the response has been amazing, and dare I say a little overwhelming at times.  I am so grateful to my readers, friends, and fellow enthusiasts.  You all have made it so much easier to share openly.  It feels so liberating to know so many like-minded people – many of whom I had no idea about until I wrote that last blog post!!

I guess you never know where your support system is going to come from, until you summon up the courage to share something truly personal.  I am very thankful for all of the encouragement, and offers to let me do practice readings for so many of you – you are all so gracious, and your willingness to allow a novice like me to practice my very green intuitive gifts with you makes my heart swell. 

I will keep you all posted, and I will write about my psychic experiences from time to time.  But, I promise to keep writing about all the other zany things that keep my life very crazy,and full of the things that keep me laughing at myself, and in turn, hopefully give you a much-needed chuckle as well – go ahead, I don’t mind if it is at my expense!!     Much love and laughter to you all, Doll

Tank – 1, Crows – 0 June 5, 2011

The Doll has just had one of the most harrowing, hellish experiences of her life.  I swear!!  It was straight outta some ghoulish Alfred Hitchcockian freak show!!

I had just let Tank outside to do his morning business, and there were several crows on the lawn.  He went bounding down the stairs – faster than a thorough-bred horse coming out of a starting gate!  He sprinted across the lawn, and caught one as it was flying low to reach the back fence.  I ran over to distract him, as five other crows started to swoop in and dive bomb both of us!  This gave the injured one enough time to fly for cover behind the boys old fort.

I didn’t realize the darn thing was still back there, but a few minutes later, Tank caught scent of him, and took off across the lawn to hunt him down again.   It flew haphazardly across the yard and took refuge in a small shade garden behind a fern.  I thought for sure it was dead because all five crows started cawing and screeching at the top of their fucking lungs!!!  This only drove Tank into a greater frenzy!!  He chased them up and down, from one side of the yard to another for what seemed like an eternity!    Every few minutes, he would rush over to check on his prey…that’s when The Doll realized..the dang thing was still alive!!! 

Tank managed to flush the injured bird out of his hiding place yet again, and took off running after it as it flew/bounced his way towards our lower back door and wood pile.  It then went tail-spinning its way over to the side of the house and landed on the ground where he and tank once again got into a serious sparring match.  I could not get this damn dog to listen to me for ANYTHING!!  Here was this crow, who was almost the size of Tank, and it kept hissing at him. and trying to peck him – and then the freaking squawking crow peanut gallery was giving a gosh darn play by-play of the whole sordid  match - sounding like a bunch of loud-mouthed Howard Cosells! 

What was a Doll to do?????  And of course, TBG is off on his annual pilgrimage to AK, so -NO help there!!  I called my neighbor who lives across the street, and he wasn’t answering – so I left his a frantic message, and ran next door to see if they could help me!  As I was leaving my yard, I glanced back over my shoulder and witnessed my brave little warrior dragging this crow by his wing, and then getting it on the ground and biting him hard on his mid-section!!

The wife answered the door, and I managed to stammer, “Good Morning!!  Sorry to sound like such a ‘girl’ – but, is your husband home??”  I quickly explained my dilemma, and off we went back across his side yard to get to my house. As we came towards my driveway, my other neighbor came bounding across the street – thankfully, he had gotten my message!!  We all entered the back yard, and there was Tank, standing over his barely alive trophy!!  He came running up to my neighbor – tail wagging, full of swagger!  The crows were sounding off and swooping at us from every angle!  One guy distracted the pack of pissed off crows, while the other grabbed Tank and handed him off to me.  I tucked him under my arm, and took off running like I was going for the winning touch-down in the Super Bowl!!!

I thanked both of them profusely, and was extremely happy that not only did they help me get my dog back inside, they took the nasty crow out and disposed of him as well.  Ladies – this is why we need men around…at least some of the time!!

Once my heart stopped pounding, I examined The Tankster for any war wounds….not one single scratch on him!!  As one of my neighbors said, “Tank – 1, Crows – 0.  Yeah, but they have good memories, and lots of friends….in fact, it has been several hours, and those sons of bitches are still out there telling the story!!  See if they ever leave you a chicken bone in the yard again Tank!!

Throw Down With The Tank Man June 28, 2011

Since I  last posted about the little guy, Tank has had yet another successful throw down in our back yard with a crow.  This time around it wasn’t much of a cage match, hell – it wasn’t much of a match at all truth be told.  I turned my back to run up the stairs to get his leash in case we needed to make a hasty retreat.  In the time it took me to grab it, and run back down to the yard, crows were screaming bloody murder, and he had one dead on the ground!

Since TBG was still in AK at that time, I was forced to once again run across the street to ask my neighbor to come to this Doll’s aide in crow disposal!  How humiliating!!

Something must be in the wind, because my Facebook chatter has been full of stories of other dog owners having their own throw down angst!  Squirrels seem to be the vermin of choice among most normal canine.  Wouldn’t you know The Doll’s pooch seems to be the only weirdo to go after crows!

At least I don’t have the same issues my poor cousin Pooks has had recently with her pooch, Zuca.  One week he fell down a well, yes, I said it – A WELL!!!  And, no, this is NOT an episode of Lassie!!  Pooks literally jumped down the well after him, and a neighbor had to bring a ladder to drop down the well to rescue both of them!  Then, the very next week, Zuca decided to tangle with a porcupine!!   There is just no way a dog is going to win a throw down with a porcupine!!  The pictures were – dare I say it - hilarious!!  He looked like he had hay sticking out of his snout!!!

I jokingly said to Pooks that we should seriously think about starting a blog called, “Dog Tales,” because between her dog and mine, we would never run out of blogging material!  This Doll would appreciate it if her poocharilo would move on from the crow baiting – we can’t even take a stroll down our street without getting a serious earful of crow-bitching!  SIGH….I think it’s gonna be a long crow sonata filled summer!

Meditating on Meditation June 27, 2011

Only in the Doll’s world can I attend a class on stress reduction, and end up having a meditation exercise stress me out with visions of the shark from”Jaws!!!”  Perhaps I am getting a little ahead of myself…..let me back up the bus just a tic.

Mrs. k and I went to this fabulous class to learn all about stress reduction techniques.  I actually arrived for said class twenty minutes early – it definitely aided in not getting stressed out about being late for class!!!! I suppose I should mention – this never happens in my real life!!

We practiced all sorts of breathing exercises….taking a count of 5 to breath in…..and 5 more to breath out…….whewwwwwww.   Then breathing in…..and making a loud noise on exhale…wheewHWWWAAAAAAA!!!!!

Then we moved on the tensing of various parts of our body, and then relaxing.  I found this to be very cleansing!

Then my real world crashed the party when the class was treated to some soothing sounds of the surf to meditate to.  I started out by trying to time my breathing to the roll of the waves.   I could feel my belly going in and out, my lungs filling with a cleansing breath.  And the next thing I knew, there was Chief Brody from the movie “Jaws” up in the shark tower, ringing the bell, and screaming for everyone to get out of the water!!  Then the shark’s face was all up in my meditating grill!!!

I tried my best to change my focus to a pleasant time in my past, being a child down at the shore in Wild Wood, or Surf City…but the childhood nostalgia was fleeting, as I watched the shark come back through for a second pass at me.  Thank goodness it was at that moment the instructor informed us the five minutes were up.   Whew!!!  I was just going to say, “You’re gonna need a bigger boat!”

Enough, about me…… June 29, 2011

As fun as it may be to always be writing about me and what’s going on in The Doll’s bizarre world, it is always fun and interesting to hear what is going on in my flock’s lives.  Or, if there is something I haven’t written about in a while that you are just itching to hear about, let me know!!

Or, if you want “The Doll’s” advice on a particularly sticky sitch (even better!!)  by all means – do tell!!!!  My cousin Pooks has been begging me to do my twisted version of “Dear Blabby” – and since I am a world renowned  advice Maven…… (not) I would be honored to give your question some serious thought, and post my response here.

So, enough about me….I would love to hear about what is going on with you!

Sneaks Up On You April 5, 2012

Grief.  Grief is a sneaky son of a bitch!  I don’t know about my dear flock out there, but The Doll is here to tell you, sometimes grief will sneak in under the wire, grab me by my heart strings, and squeeze me like a boa constrictor.  I can barely breath, the sobs catch and choke in my throat, and the tears stream down my face like an over-acting broad in a bad D film.

 

This has been a week of anniversaries.  My Grandmother passed away three years ago on April 1st.  VERY fitting for those who did not know her.  Born on St. Patrick’s day, and died on April Fool’s day….An author could not have written a better beginning and ending if he tried a hundred times!  She was an artist by trade, kooky, funny, full of energy.  You never knew when you came into her kitchen in the morning if you would find her with her head out the window chirping and talking to the birds, or if she would be dancing with a dish towel!!

 

April 3rd was the 8th anniverary of my beloved Cousin Bobby’s suicide. I miss him, and adore him to this day.  His death left a major void in my life.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him, miss him, pray for him, or find that he has somehow been worked into conversation.

 

Just yesterday, my grief snuck up on my ass as I was discussing a case with one of the doctors I work with.  The patient suffered from schizophrenia, and had been seen by my doctor for the last few years for heart disease.  He was just about to be released from the hospital, when my doctor responded to a code blue on him.  My doc let me know that the poor man was on his way out – he was on life support, and they were just waiting for his estranged wife to sign the paperwork to take him off life support.  I could feel my eyes welling up as he spoke.  Bobby dealt with mental illness as well, and although he did not have schizophrenia, at the end, he was extremely paranoid.  The more my doctor chatted – very fondly, I might add, the more weepy I got.  I finally shared with him about my darling Bob.  I was a little embarrassed to have cried in front of him, but he was warm, compassionate, and caring.  He assured me that it was a great way to “check out.”  Fine one minute, massive stroke/coma the next…..he will slip into the next life with ease.  I wonder….I wonder if in his after life, will his mind be whole?  Will he find peace?

I wonder too, am I destined to always get misty every time I read about a patient with mental illness, or who takes their own life?  Only time will tell how I will react the next time grief sneaks up on me.  For now I take comfort in knowing that my Gran and Bobby are probably having a blast together!       

Turd Wars March 25, 2012

Forget the Crips and the Bloods and their decades long turf wars.  They ain’t got a thing over what is going on up in The Doll’s hood!!  What we’ve got here, is a war between “The Pins, and the Pekingese!”

The situation has been brewing for years now, but the intensity of TBG’s annoyance has now reached the boil-over level!!!  The Doll has noticed that TBG’s blood pressure increases every time he looks out the window, and spies our neighbor from the cul-de-sac around the corner from our house allowing his Pekingese, Toby, to tag the front of our parking strip lawn!!  And I can tell you, we are not the only victims of this terrorizing turder!!  Those people have been letting Toby turd tag my whole end of the street for 10 years!!  Dare I say it??  That little shit is a serial turd tagging graffiti artist!

This morning started out pretty much like every other Sunday….coffee, morning news, glance at the paper, chitty chatting with TBG….but I could tell he was doing a slow simmer when he went off to get his shower before preparing our ritual Sunday breakfast feast.  I asked him what was bugging him, and the flood gates opened wide!  “I am sick and tired of those bastards not picking up after their dog!!  Maybe I should just start taking Tank over to their yard and let him shit all over the place!!  This time, I have had it!  I am going to go leave them a little present….HELL, maybe I’LL just start shitting in their yard!!!”  When I asked what kind of present he was giving them, he turned on his heel – rather dramatically I might add, and replied, “Actually, I’m going to re-gift to them the turd Toby just left us!”  And with that, he went out, shovel in hand, scooped up the poop, and with very little fanfare, tossed that turd over the back fence for them to deal with.

I’m just glad Toby isn’t very tall……I would hate to see the kind of turd tag he could do on a fence!! 

 

Seeds Of The Soul March 24, 2012

The Doll is coming off a fairly stress-filled few weeks.  It all started with the passing of a very dear classmate of mine last month. I knew he was in a valiant fight for his life.  I knew the type of brain cancer he had was very aggressive.  I knew he had everything to live for, including a beautiful, supportive wife, a little daughter who needed more than 7 years with her daddy, and a booming business with his brother.  He had much to live for, and against all odds, everyone knew that if anyone could beat this horrific illness, it would be Roger.

When I found out his journey had come to an end, it was like a kick to my gut. He was so young, so vibrant, so strong.  His wit was contagious, his charm was an honor to witness. But in his passing, his soul planted a seed.

When I attended his celebration of life, I drove with my friend through a raging hail storm.  The streets were pure white, the wind was whipping around us, and as we pulled into the parking lot of the club, suddenly, the hail ended, the clouds parted, and the sun came out.  We entered the celebration in blinding sunlight pouring through the windows. It bathed our faces, warmed our bruised hearts, and caressed our souls.  We were all amazed by the weather, and felt that surely Roger had brought that sunshine just for us, because we needed it.  We needed to feel alive, we needed each other. 

I was out in the gardens this morning, as I tend to find solace in getting my hands in the dirt.  I was cleaning out a planter box when I noticed a little pansy beginning to bloom.  The plants I had put in the box last spring had re-seeded themselves.  When I saw that flower, I felt his presence. I felt a little nudge inside as I came to terms with his death.  Life does continue after someone passes, and in their passing, their souls plant a seed in everyone they touch. It’s up to us to make them blossom.