Hopelessly Devoted

I had another photo session with the cutest little singer. She models, she sings, she dances and she want to be everything in the world when she grows up. The entire session she sang Hopelessly Devoted to You. Now I'm stuck with that song in my head; and when I sing it, it doesn't sound good at all!

I feel lucky that all these multi-talented people have come into my life and they allow me to capture them doing what they love to do. Although they make me feel like I should be doing much, much more!

Game Theory

In college I had a really great game theory class. It was run by grad students who were using us as lab rats. One of the things I learned about myself is that I will fight vehemently to win every battle, even if it means losing the war. I was an anomaly in the class. Everybody else wanted to win the war; I wanted to win the battles. Perhaps it ties into my lack of patience or my need for immediate gratification. It's hard to say really, but the grad students kept looking at me funny for continuing with my behavior. Surely, they hypothesized, if you know you will lose the big game, you will change your behavior. Surely not if you are me! That's what I loved about economics, you base whole theories on the way people behave and then people don't behave that way.

I'm remembering all this now because I'm wondering if I'm heading down that path now. It seems that when push comes to shove, I still want to win the battles, the war be damned!

Mad Cow Disease

No, I don't have it. But apparently the FDA thinks I could. It's been about 20 years since I spent a year in England and I can't donate blood. Today I found out that I was a platelet match for a terminally ill patient, and I can't donate because I spent a year in England in 1988. It makes me sad.

A Little Crazy

Lately I've been feeling that everybody is a little crazy. And that when you are looking for a relationship, you are just looking for somebody whose craziness either matches or compliments yours.

My Dream House

I've always dreamed of owning my own single-family home. It has a big front porch to watch the world go by. It has a screened in porch on the side or in the back because I hate mosquitoes. It has more than one bathroom just in case. It has a basement in which to store all my seemingly endless piles of crap. It has a yard with grass to mow. It has a kitchen that two people can be in at one time. It has stairs for the cats to run up and down. It might even have a dog. I'm deciding if I want to have a room large enough for a photo studio. 

A couple years ago, it was all I wanted, but the housing market was insane then. I couldn't afford or even imagine paying $800,000 for a 2 bedroom shack. The only houses I could afford were falling down on themselves and were being sold for the value of the land. So I gave up looking.

For now, I keep that dream on the back burner. I'm waiting until I find somebody who wants to buy a house with me or until my dream house just falls out of the sky. I'm not sure which will happen first as things are actually falling out of the sky at me — why not a house?

Dialing the Devil

You know when your ass dials the devil at 7 am, your day isn't going to go well. For some reason, when I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, my ass is able to make numerous calls. Numerous! My butt cheeks are able to unlock the phone and actually dial numbers and hit send. And when nobody answers, it dials another number and hits send. It's amazing to me. It's as if my ass is lonely and really needs somebody to talk to.

This morning I'm up at 6 am, and it's my day off! I'm renting out my studio, and like the insane nice person I am, I say 7 am is fine. Of course, I arrive at 6:30 am, phone in back pocket and start painting some chairs. During that time, my phone dials several people including the number 666. At 7:30 when the person renting the studio finally calls, I notice the strange sent call to 666. Well, long story short, several phone calls and three hours later, dude never shows up. I'm sure my ass was trying to tell me something.

Shake it Up

Today I have the urge to shake somebody until they change. I'm so frustrated that I have to wait for others to come to their senses in their own time. I just want to yell and scream and force them to see the craziness of their ways.

Then I laugh at my presumptuous self. In all reality, that person is probably thinking the exact same thing about me right now. As open minded as I like to think I am, I'm sure I live in my own little world. And I know for certain that I can be quite stubborn. 

I hope we can meet in the middle somewhere and cut through all the crap that surrounds both of us. 

End of the Rainbow

Today, on my way home from work, I saw a rainbow. What was so unusual was that it didn't rain today. And there was this beautiful rainbow. I like to believe in signs and omens, so I was sure there was a pot of gold waiting for me somewhere (or some pissed off leprechaun - my luck can swing either way).

When I get home, I discovered that my bank gave me $100 for some kind of incentive. It's no pot of gold, but it's a good start!

Granny Panties

One summer night, I'm out enjoying a ride with a friend of mine. On this ride I am enjoying being a passenger because for once he offers to drive (his car is meant to be admired from far away in a temperature-controlled garage, while mine is meant to be used as some sort of hauling tank-like vehicle). I take him the long way home through the nice neighborhoods. I just love looking at houses. 

We are meandering along when he says, "Is that old lady in her underwear?" That old lady was indeed in her underwear! How could I have missed it? There she was, 70 years old, smoking a cigarette and walking her dog wearing nothing but pink slippers and a t-shirt tucked into granny panties. She looked just like she belonged out there. (It's all in the way you carry yourself, you know.) Her neighbors must love her. It was quite dark out there. I'm not sure if it's something she does during the day. Or maybe it's like her pajamas and she just thought she'd take the dog out for a quick walk. Now mind you, she was on the sidewalk quite a ways from the nearest house, so she was definitely walking the dog in that outfit.

I couldn't stop laughing. To be honest, I still can't. The image is burned into my brain and it just makes me laugh out loud whenever I think about it. 

What did I learn from this event? I hope somebody warns me before I go out walking the dog in my underwear; or barring that, I hope if I do go out in my underwear, I have the confidence to make it work for me.

The Remnant

Some people come and go so quickly that you hardly remember they were there. They pass through your heart like a ghost leaving only a remnant of a feeling behind. If you didn’t have photographs of them, you wouldn’t even remember what they looked like. But for some reason these people haunt you.

They come into your life, open up your heart and then as quickly as they came, they leave. You have things left unsaid, feelings left unexplored, and so many things left to do with them. You thought there was a world of possibility opening up, but instead there was a part of the world that was being completely shut off to you. It wouldn't be so bad if you never knew that world existed, but now you do. 

All you have to remind you that anything happened at all is this remnant of a feeling. It’s tiny, not enough to hold on to, but too special to let go. You keep it tucked away in a safe place that nobody can see, but you always know it’s there. On certain days, your heart calls upon that remnant and remembers what possibility it held; then it remembers that all that possibility is gone. And for awhile your heart feels all the feelings for this person over and over again.

If only you could just throw the remnant away, then maybe the haunting would stop. But you just can’t.

My Love Life

I mentioned that I sometimes read my tarot cards. This is the one I drew for my love life, and not just once. It's self-explanatory really.

Personal Space and the Wii Fit

Anybody out there have Wii Fit? Do you jog on Wii Island? Now tell me if I’m crazy, but don’t those other Miis jog just a little too close sometimes?

I know I have personal space issues. In real life, I like to have a three-foot radius of free space around me at all times. And I was sure this wouldn’t also apply in a virtual world, but I was wrong. I think that is because my Mii a virtual representation of my outer essence. It’s really me! And as me, it has the same personal space requirements.

I am forever getting pissed off at the other Miis who are jogging in my personal space. And sometimes those arrogant Miis are right on top of me. They know I can’t move sideways. The only control I have is to move forward. I can jog faster, but they keep right up. And most annoyingly, they turn their little Mii head and look at me as they enter into my personal space. They are taunting me. They know I am powerless against their invasion. And their cocky little selves know that I can’t punch them. Ah, if I could only punch them! And therein lies the solution — combine jogging with boxing. This way, I could nail one of those rude, little joggers when they got too close. Nintendo could market this as Wii Fit for People with Personality Disorders. I’d buy it.

Falling from the Sky - Part 2

To catch you up from part 1: the heavens are throwing things at me. I don't know why, they just are. And it's still happening.

I'm out walking the cat (don't ask, she's like a dog without the sunny disposition). The night is humid, but not an ounce of wind. It is practically windless. You can watch the still leaves and study the veins on them if you want. Not a sound can be heard except the crickets.

I'm waiting under a giant oak for my cat to catch up when wham! an acorn comes flying down and hits the car right next to me. OK, no big deal. It's almost fall. Acorn's fall in the (almost) fall. As the cat is not paying attention (go figure), I am still waiting under that oak tree when another acorn falls right next to me. Now I'm getting a little suspicious. It's as if something is up in that tree throwing things down at me. I mean both of those acorns fall within 2 feet of me. And no other trees seem to be dropping acorns. I don't see any other acorns on the ground. I look up, but it's dark. And I'm not that interested in meeting the boogeyman just yet, or, for that matter, the vengeful squirrel that has it out for me. So I just keep walking, the cat can fend for herself.

I'm No Plumber

Last week I decided to remove the old caulk around my tub and replace it with new caulk. The old stuff was moldy and I could use that new mold-free caulk. How hard could that be? 

My bathroom was built in the 1940s. There wasn't a shower. Sometime in the 70s they converted it to a shower. They did it outside of the wall with a box over the plumbing. I decided to re-caulk that as well. That's when it all went so terribly wrong.

I had to unscrew the handle on the faucet. No problem there. Then I tried to unscrew the faucet. Big problem! The screw broke off in the faucet. The screw head falls into the tub. Now the faucet leaks. There are three screws holding that faucet cartridge to the plumbing. I broke one screw off. Oh, and then I broke the second screw off. Then, I stripped the head of the third screw. So far, my luck's holding out. My bad luck, that is.

I look on the internet for any kind of help whatsoever. I've never broken a screw head off before. I'm really not that strong; the heads were rusted. Why don't we use rust-proof screws in the bathroom? I learn that I have to drill out the screws. Before I do that I have to find a replacement cartridge because I'm bound to destroy the old one trying to get the screws out. Well, Bradley stopped making residential faucets. Probably the same year my condo community bought all the faucets for the conversion. I finally find one place online that sells the replacement cartridge (I am grateful for the internet). I have to wait a week for the part to arrive, which wouldn't be so bad except I have one bathroom. I have to figure out a way to shower without making a big mess. I temporarily put all the fixtures back and turned the water on with the screw driver. Success! Water all over the ceiling. But it's running, I just need to tighten a few things. I turn on and off the water with the screwdriver for a week and manage to keep myself clean.

The new cartridge arrives in the mail and now it's time to drill out the screws. Hmm... I've never done that before. It's worrisome, but I'm game. In the photo above, I am one screw away from finishing the job. (And one screw away from going insane!) That mess in the tub is from the metal and plastic shavings. I did indeed destroy the cartridge. I had to make a special trip to the Home Depot for vice grips - my first pair. (This is my fourth trip for repair items for that tub.) I needed them to try and grab the remnants of the screws. Woohoo! It works on two of them. I can grab the ends and unscrew them. Boo! The third screw won't turn at all. I have to drill that completely out. I'm terrified of ruining the threads of the hole. That's copper plumbing, I don't want to have to redo that! And I think you've already figured out that I'm not calling a plumber unless something explodes. I manage to get most of the screw out. It takes me an hour. I break a few drill bits, I get one cut on my finger, and my hands are calloused from trying to operate those vice grips. As I said, I'm no plumber.

My new cartridge fits and actually screws in tightly. Happy dance!!! It doesn't leak. Another happy dance!!! After two days I can shower again, and I don't need to use any hand tools. I just pull on the water like people who know better than to mess around with their plumbing do. All that for new caulking around my tub — a tub that needs replacing since I've long since ruined that as well. 

I'm no plumber, but I am a 1940s condo owner.

Sounds of the Nursing Home

When I went to visit my Granny in the nursing home, she was asleep. Rather than wake her, I sat listening to the sounds of the old.

There’s NASCAR racing coming from the room to my left. It’s really loud, so even if I try to tune it out, I can’t. There’s a lounge singer in the recreation room below my Gran’s room. I can barely hear him over the TV. I remember passing that room when I entered the building. The audience consisted entirely of the wheelchair bound. Apparently if you can walk, you walk right out of the rec room when the lounge singer is singing. I listen harder and I hear him singing “Stand By Me” to his wheelchair audience. Good choice.

Beep.

Then there’s the beep that you hear every minute. It reminds you that somebody is still alive. I sit there thinking, is that beep annoying or is it somehow comforting? I mean if that beep wasn’t there, wouldn’t somebody have just passed away? That’s the beep of life — the life-affirming beep. It means you’ve made it through another minute. And life in a nursing home is lived not day-by-day but minute-by-minute.

Beep.

I watch my Gran sleeping. She’s 88, soon to be 89. She looks so much different here in the home. She’s thinner than I’ve ever seen her. I’m sitting in the chair by her feet. She has the longest toenails I have ever seen. They look too hard to cut. Is that why nobody cuts them? They say toenails keep growing after you die. Nobody will cut them then, that’s for sure. I’m sure I’ve never seen my Gran’s bare feet. She wears slippers even in the summer. Her feet are always cold, just like mine. I wear socks to bed.

Beep.

That guy is still alive. Comforting, I suppose. I don't even know who that guy is, but I'm glad to hear the beep that confirms he's still alive. I listen to the commentators talk about cars riding around in circles. I’ve never been a fan of NASCAR, now I’m wondering why I can’t see the TV. Would I enjoy NASCAR more if it was the only thing to watch in a nursing home?

Beep.

Minutes are passing by and I’m wondering how long my Gran sleeps in the afternoon. I send my Mom a text message. She texts back, “Wake her up.” That seems cruel. Who knows how much sleep she actually gets and she looks so peaceful. So I sit back and let her sleep some more. She moves a little. Her head falls off the pillow. She moves her teeth in her mouth. All of her upper teeth move. That’s right, I remember, she has dentures. The first time I discovered that, it freaked me out. Now, it’s just Gran.

Beep.

I do notice that she’s still breathing. Phew. She has no machines hooked up to her. She’s in the home because she’s not strong enough to get around on her own. She’s lost muscle in her legs. They are like toothpicks. We spend so much time wishing to be thin, but not that thin – nobody wants to be so thin that you can’t support your own weight, especially when you weigh less than 100 pounds. Way too thin.

Beep.

It was my Gran who said to my Mom. “It’s amazing how big Sandy’s gotten.” That’s me and I was right there in the room. She repeated that three or four times. That was the last time I saw her in her own home. I decided to go on a diet that day. I used to be stick thin when I was younger. “Eats like a bird” is what everybody said about me. I lost 15 pounds since that day, but looking at her so thin made it seem so unimportant now.

Beep.

I watch the cars go by out the window. It’s a beautiful August day. Sun is shining. It’s 80 and no humidity, rare for this area. I drove over 1.5 hours to get here. My mom is on vacation and somebody needed to visit Gran. She freaks out if nobody comes to see her. And the ironic part is she probably won't even remember that I came. I look at the clock. I wonder how long I’m going to be here. How long do old people nap for? I have another 1.5-hour drive and I’m getting thirsty.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The machine is going crazy. I am nervous. The comforting sound of the beep has now turned to something resembling chaos. Is that guy dying? I expect to hear nurses rushing to his room, but there are no new sounds, just that constant beep, beep, beep and the sound of cars racing around a track. I would think that when a life expires there’s some big rush, people running around trying to save it. But maybe that beep doesn’t mean what I think it means. Maybe it was a false comfort. Maybe it’s just a beep to give visitors something to focus on, instead of what is really happening in here.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Is anybody going to do something about that beeping? Is somebody dying? Why am I the only one who hears that crazy beeping? Maybe the TV is too loud. Maybe the lounge singer is more captivating than I thought. Maybe nobody cares. Turns out that I don’t care. I no longer hear that beeping and I’m just sitting there watching my Gran sleeping, glad that she’s still alive and I am able to spend some time with her.

Beep.

Falling from the Sky - Literally

So, I read tarot cards occasionally. I had the Ace of Swords in my final outcome and I read it as fortune falling from the sky in my near future. I thought it meant good luck figuratively falling from above. When in fact, it meant bad fortune literally being thrown at me by the heavens.

Here's the luck that came my way.

Rock. I'm on an empty highway at 7am Labor Day morning. Me and one other car. I'm a good 6 car lengths behind listening to the radio when wham! a rock hits my windshield - right in my line of sight. Fantastic. Nothing like a ding in the windshield to start off your Labor Day celebrations.

Squirrel. Two days later I'm driving home from work when wham! a gray furball falls from the sky right in front of my left tire. I swerve to miss the fallen squirrel. (I'm amazed those things don't die from such a fall.) I couldn't stop laughing. I should have felt some compassion for the fallen squirrel, but it just seemed so improbable that it was unbelievably funny. How often do animals come falling out of the sky at you? For me, not that often.

It was just then that I realized what my tarot card was saying to me. It was saying, "Get ready, the universe is going to start throwing actual things at you." So I began to wonder if the universe was done chucking these things at me. They say things happen in threes. I don't know if the universe really does things in threes, but what else could possibly fall from the sky and hit me? I know I am tempting fate by asking that question, but really, what else can just fall out of the heavens like that? I could try to read my cards again, but apparently I suck at interpreting them.

I wish I knew when to take things figuratively and when to take them literally, then I wouldn't get so excited about all the wrong things. And, most importantly, I would know when to look up.