Goodby to those January Blues...

January has but two days to finish up her wicked wicked ways. It has been the most trying month so far. That is, as far as we are concerned. January 1st was okay, nothing to write home about...and it went downhill from there. Way downhill. Do you remember the little ditty we sang as children done to the tune of some other long forgotten song that went:

I was going down the highway
doing 90 miles an hour
when the chain on my bicycle broke
I was covered all over with scratches and bruises
and punctured to death by the spokes.

Now Mac's boyhood memory of that old favorite is somewhat rude and I refuse to print it here, but believe me when I say that this month, I feel like we were on board that bicycle (built for two) and am still picking spokes from all areas of my body. I can not go into all that has happened, but the only good thing that came out of it was Mac's eye surgery. Yea, Mac. He's a happy fella and I'm a happy gal for him. But the rest of life has just kicked us around, thrown in a punch or two and I'm not going to let February do that to us. I'm going to meet adversity head on, throw in a punch of self reliance and keep on truckin'.

You know, I have to keep reminding myself how incredibly blessed we are in that we have a roof over our heads, plenty to eat, the wherewithal to pay the bills and the comfort of friends and family. If only life were so good to the rest of our family and that family fall outs could be done away with, life would be perfect. I stopped striving for perfection long ago. Now I just hope for the best, oil the pedals every so often and make sure the chain is in good working order. Unfortunately, in January the chain came off the doohickey and left us rather tattered and torn. But that's okay. February brings a new chain and I hear that duct tape and WD40 are miracle workers. I am now armed for combat! Come on February, show me what you've got!

Back from the brink and four hours in hell...

It doesn't seem as though it's been four weeks since I posted, but it has. 2010 came in and knocked me on my butt in too many ways to dwell on. I've been pulling myself away from the abyss since the first day of January. Illness took it's toll. I know why they call it the swine flu, now. It's because you feel like you've been in the smoker for ever. Your chest is tight from coughing and your head is achy from being packed with the bi-products of sinus's in action. Your body is tired and your spirit is exhausted. And that's just from the flu. Never mind all the rest of the crap that life throws your way when you are to weak to defend yourself and your family. I am no longer on face book. I feel in my soul that it is evil. I began to feel better from the first day I closed my account. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It felt wonderful.

Mac had his first cataract surgery three weeks ago. I had forgotten what an ordeal it is to drive someone who has no faith in the driving capabilities of anyone but themselves. It was horrible, that first trip. Yesterday he had the surgery on his second eye and the trip home was almost pleasant because he was still rather doped up and was busy entertaining himself with all the different ways to say foul words. He would look over at me as I drove and say "I'm really ****ed up." I would have to agree with him that indeed yes, he was really ****ed up, and continue with the drive. The trip is approximately 2 hours each way. The first two hours he was driving. Then there was the trip home. No problem. Today was the post op trip to see Dr Seltzer and of course, he couldn't drive because he still couldn't see well enough and he was still...well, messed up. Just a bit. We started off with him clutching the dashboard like an anchor that could keep him tied to the ground. We'd only gone five miles when I was warned to slow down. I was doing 40 miles an hour. We got onto the four lane with him tapping the dashboard, then tapping his leg...he was anxious and getting on my nerves.

I tried to remind him that I was a good driver (a professional driver, even) with a better driving record than he had. I was accused of "having contacts to purge my record". I took great umbrage at that remark as I haven't had so much as a parking ticket in over 30 years. There has been no reason to "purge my record" as he called it. We drove on. He told me again that I needed to slow down. I told him that I was doing the speed limit and had the truck on cruise control. I again reminded him that I was not the speeder in the family. When we arrived at Dr. Seltzer's office he said, "don't take offense if I get down and kiss the ground when you come to a stop." I glared at him. "Don't take offense if I kick you in the ass while you're down there making nice with the ground, then" I said. He laughed. Grudgingly.

The trip home was even worse. All the "good stuff" had now worn off. Now he was just feeling mean. He started as we pulled out of the parking lot. "You know I'm not going to let you ever forget it if you tap someone getting back on the road, " he said. I looked over to him, dark glasses hiding his a good bit of his face. "Oh, I'm going to tap someone all right, " I said. "I'm going to tap someone hard enough that they need a cast on that arm if that someone doesn't stop tapping the dashboard!" I pulled out into traffic. He kept telling me when a traffic light was coming up, as though I couldn't see it. I reminded him that he was the one who couldn't see, not me. "Yes, and you should respect that!" he snapped. I shook my head at that bit of wisdom and continued on my unmerry way. After we got back on 151 a car pulled up next to us. The motor was so loud, the hifi turned up to maximum that it caused the truck to vibrate. The young man in it was making "lets race" motions with his head. I was busy wishing I had a blue light at my side that I could whip out and pull this idiot over with. I already had the ticket written in my head. Mac was saying "get ahead of him, that noise if making me crazy." You know, it was on the tip of my tongue. But I was still an hour away from home. It would be a shame to end a 41 year marriage over his inability to ride with me at the wheel. At some point in the next few days however, I will be reminding him of his motto..."there ain't nothing funny about a woman with a gun."

Where I am and why

On the couch or in the bed. Because I have the flu. I feel that I may pull through the worst of it by the first of the week. Mac's surgery went exceedingly well, which is fortunate since I was in no shape to chase his ass down had he taken it in his head to run. I was doing good to be the driver home. The hacking you hear is me coughing. Now, too sick to be funny but have some fun stuff for you here. Please feel free to laugh and snort coffee through your nose. Or tea. Either will dampen your keyboard, but not your spirits. Back next week. I hope. Time for my medicine...and Happy New Year everyone!

Once again, The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternative meanings for common words.

The winners are:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon
whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much
weight you have gained.

3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of
ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an
explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.

6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you
absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.

7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that
picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing
adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles
his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand):
The belief that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of
boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
***********************************************************

The Washington Post's Style Invitational also asked readers
to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding,
subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

The winners are:


1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people
that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer,
unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about
yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house,
which renders the subject financially impotent for
an indefinite period.

4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted
very, very high.

5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of
sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously
when you are running late.

7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.

8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease.
(This one got extra credit.)

9. Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending
off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like,
the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting
through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.

12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to
seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed
just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito
that gets into your bedroom at three
in the morning and cannot be cast out.

15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after
finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.

And the pick of the literature:

16. Ignoranus (n): A person who's both
stupid and an asshole.