In a discussion on recycling:
“We’re semi-green here; we’re chartreuse.”
In a discussion on recycling:
“We’re semi-green here; we’re chartreuse.”
So the other day I was talking to my mom, and she was telling me about something she wasn’t really looking forward to doing, but did anyway to help someone else out.
“So how was it?” I asked.
“Well,” she replied, “it was better than being poked in the eye with a sharp stick.”
Women think nothing of walking into a sporting goods store with their male significant other and asking (as regards their deflated exercise ball), “Hey-can we get our balls blown up here?”
I confess that I was not in the best of moods when I went to this appointment, because I am in the middle of a flare-up that is just completely kicking my ass. As in, I refuse to look at myself in any mirrors as I pass them by so as not to scare myself by accidentally glimpsing the dark, sunken-in craters that my eyes have become, and also because it is almost to the point where just LOOKING at my skin hurts as much as if it is actually touched. THAT kind of flare-up.
(And speaking of being touched, WHY?! did I ever think it would be a good idea to go and let someone stick needles into said delicate skin, ESPECIALLY in the middle of a flare-up? People are all concerned about monitoring my medicines, but where was the monitoring when I was all, “Hey-you know what would be cool? Paying someone to jab me with lots of needles every week. WHERE WAS THE MONITORING THEN, PEOPLE?!)
But I’d already canceled this appointment twice, so part of me just wanted to go and get it over with. But I was not happy about it.
So I was lying there on the table, even more not happy about things now that I was full of needles, when the assistant led another patient to a cubicle two doors down from mine.
And then, as soon as that guy’s ass hit the table, he began an e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y long, annoying, and drawn out conversation with someone about whether or not his school was going to have spring break (hello, HAVE YOU HEARD OF LOOKING THINGS UP ON THE INTERNET?!), and then yet another conversation about something that happened to someone somewhere on some playground, and he said, but then they said, and, oh, well what did they tell you, and, and, and, AND! literally, except when it was absolutely necessary to draw breath, this man DID NOT STOP TALKING until the doctor finally (Finally! THANK YOU GOD!) stepped into his cubicle.
I couldn’t hear what the doctor said, because, UNLIKE SOME OTHER PEOPLE I COULD NAME, he knew how to speak in his “inside” voice.
But whatever he asked Loud Cell Phone Man unleashed a flood, nay, a TORRENT of words that could not be stopped, until they crashed right through my curtain and into the wall of my treatment cube.
(Important Side Note: I don’t have an audio recording of this guy, but when you read this paragraph, just remember how it sounded when you would take your old 45 rpm records and then jack them up to play at a higher speed.) “Well, they’re saying that I have really high blood pressure. I don’t know why. They gave me this prescription for blood pressure medication. Because they say that my blood pressure’s really high. But I don’t understand why they’re saying that. So I haven’t taken it. Because I don’t understand why they say that my blood pressure’s high.”
More words I couldn’t hear from the doctor, and then some words I ignored from LCPM.
But then, after a little while, I heard this: “Well, I guess it could have something to do with all the energy drinks I drink.”
The doctor: “How many do you drink?”
LCPM: “Um…well…2 or 3 a day.”
OH, Loud Cell Phone Man. I know that tone. I’ve used it myself to try and find a way to make bad things not sound quite so bad. So unfortunately, I know that what you actually meant was, “At least 3. And probably 4.”
So I laid there a little while longer, wondering when someone would come and un-stick me, and then I heard this: “Well, it could have something to do with the amount of coffee I drink.”
I snorted again, louder this time. Although not loud enough to be heard over LCPM’s unwilling confessions.
The doctor: “How many cups do you drink?”
LCPM: “Um…well…2 or 3 a day..”
Me (translating in my head): OK, so, at least three. Most likely four.)
And then I got distracted again by the voice in my head that was yelling, “OMG, TAKETHESENEEDLESOUTNOWORIWILLDIEEEEEEEE!”
But then, just seconds before the assistant came to free me, as if to reward me for my fortitude in enduring that day’s treatment, not to mention my restraint in not giving Obnoxious Talky Man some more serious medical problems to deal with than high blood pressure, I heard this:
“Well, it could have to do with how much I smoke.”
And then, as I lay there chortling with glee, I repented of the fact that I ever doubted that my acupuncture sessions would bring me some much-needed relief.
As we all know by now, Apple has once again set the technology world afflutter with the unveiling of the iPad. (Important Side Note: Dear Steve Jobs-Next time you need to name a product, you might want to invite a woman or two to be part of the naming committee, just to make sure you get the female perspective on these things. Just saying.)
A couple of days after the announcement I was out to lunch, and I heard a couple of woman discussing this latest technological innovation.
“I wonder what kind of impact this will have on the publishing industry,” said the first woman. “I wonder if we’ll eventually stop having print books because everything has gone digital. Or if we’ll still have libraries anymore.”
“Well,” replied the second woman thoughtfully, “hopefully I’ll be dead by then.”
Just got back from visiting with one of my friends, who described one of her friends to me in the following way:
“Oh, she’s great-I had so much fun with her in the emergency room!”
Image courtesy of Free Foto.
A lot of New Thought material (things like “The Secret”) talks about us, as human beings, “being on the leading edge of thought.” Meaning that as we stand here now, in this moment, in this self, and form new desires and new questions about the nature of existence, that we actually push forward the whole of human experience.
Sometimes that’s a hard concept to grasp in theory, so I like it when I can see practical examples of how this works in everyday life. Like this story my friend told me the other day.
She was going in to get some outpatient surgery done, and she called the nurse the day before to check on some last-minute details.
After double-checking her payment arrangements she then told the nurse, “I got my navel pierced about 6 weeks ago, and I’m supposed to leave it in for another 6 weeks to make sure that it heals completely. So I was wondering whether or not I have to take it out before my surgery.”
There was silence for a few moments, and then the nurse replied slowly, “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check with the doctor, because no one’s ever asked me that question before.”
“Well I do like to be unique”, replied my friend.
Now that‘s the kind of leading edge thinking I can get on board with.
“You know, they’ve done a lot of studies on this, and taking a bath is pretty much just sitting around, stewing in germs.”
-declared to me this weekend by a man with, among many other bodily adornments, three metal spikes sticking out of his lower lip.
Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
“About 25 years ago,” said the man in front of me in his gentle Georgia drawl, “a friend of my wife’s was driving through North Carolina. She was having some car trouble, so she pulled in one of those 24-hour Exxon stations to get some help.”
“She had to help the attendant open the hood of her car because she said that he was sort of a ‘Gomer Pyle’ type.”
“So the attendant looked down at the engine, and then looked at her and said, ‘Lady, what kind of car is this?’ ”
” A BMW” she replied.
” A what? ” asked Gomer.
” A BMW. ”
There was a long pause, and then the attendant asked, “And how do you spell that?”
I went to a rheumatologist this morning to get some specialized help with all my health stuff, and not surprisingly, they had to draw some blood. This process never goes well for me, because if I am even in the same building as someone who is thinking about picking up a needle and using it on me, all blood flow immediately ceases, and my veins physically depart my body.
I made sure to explain this-in-detail-to the guy who was about to stick me, hoping that he would pick up on my extremely-loud-though-unspoken message of, “Please don’t hurt me!”
He listened sympathetically to my tales of woe, slipped the needle in so easily that I didn’t even feel it, and then replied,
“Yeah, well, some people suck.”
I LOVE him!