It seems that nearly every time I go to New York City and consider getting tickets to the David Letterman Show he is on hiatus. Although this hasn’t been the case the last six or so times that I’ve visited, because I haven’t checked, I decided to follow his lead after my last vacation (not trip, tripping is expensive) there.
Alas, no blog entries for a while. Hiatus here I come.
Nothing clears/cleans my head like a good vacation and being that I was nearing the end of two months in ‘recovery,’ a vacation was just what I needed before returning to work.
Sleepless and I boarded the plane ‘redeye’ for anything and anything quickly came our way. Being that we were, as usual, near the last to board, the safety announcement started playing on the overhead screens almost immediately. As we were watched, we were pleased to find they had added a few quirky features to make it a little entertaining when all of a sudden the picture on the screen started shaking. “Is that tracking?” I asked Sleepless. “I do believe so,” she replied and we both beamed with joy.
Just to be sure we were right, we checked with the flight attendant. “Is the safety announcement being played on a VCR?” “Yes, yes it is. This plane is really old,” she replied. This news was a gift to us and a huge concern to the passengers seated in front of us. “Old is good,” the flight attendant told them and added, “They get better the more they’re in the air.” “Sounds like us,” I told Sleepless.
Once in the air the flight attendant popped a new VHS in the VCR. The in-flight movie, in 2013, was on VHS and, like the safety announcement, the tracking was a bit off. Clearly I wasn’t the only one in need of a head cleaner.
Ever since I’ve had my surgery I have felt a bit spacy. “It’s probably the anesthesia. That stuff stays in your system longer than you think,” I’ve Noticed told me. “Good point,” I said and the tried to remember what it was we were talking about.
According to various studies, none of which I can recall right now, it is not uncommon for ‘older adults’ to experience memory loss after major surgery.
According to various studies, none of which I can recall right now, it is not uncommon for ‘older adults’ to experience memory loss after major surgery. My apologies, I already said that.
The other day, a technician was working at my house and I was making breakfast. As I cleaned up the kitchen I put some water in the pan to cook off the food. As you have probably already guessed, I forgot about the pan until the technician and I were walking through the kitchen and saw it smoking like crazy. “I forget a lot since the surgery – and they operated on my shoulder, not my head,” I told him. “Are you sure they didn’t operate on your head?’ he asked in a very nonchalant fashion. He may be onto something – I wasn’t sure whether or not I had a catheter during the surgery, so, maybe.
The timing of this situation was interesting because just two days prior I had received a text from my electrician, “No house fire yet?” He followed up with, “The fire I was talking about was from your cooking not my electrical work.”
No house fire, yet. For now, I’m just an older adult blowing smoke.
With my new knowledge of our lodging rules, I decided to walk a few errands. My main goal was to find a shirt with a collar – preferably one with the chest cut out or a t-shirt featuring collard greens – I’ll ‘follow’ the rules if I must.
As I walked to the store I realized this would be the first trip I’ve made since my last trip and wondered if, perhaps, I should take my sling – doing so would provide us the opportunity to pre-board. I quickly decided against it because pre-boarding isn’t really our thing. We prefer to stay in the Sky Club until the very last minute and then run to the gate where they quickly scan our boarding passes and close the plane door behind us.
Once in the store, I found a couple of shirts with collars. One was completely sheer and the other was a sleeveless, loose, mid-riff. “These will definitely get me kicked out,” I thought to myself while checking out my belly in the mirror and wondering two things: 1) why doesn’t my belly ever get tan? 2) should I have a back-up lodging plan? I’ll probably never know the answer to the first question, but I’ll have an answer to the second question in a couple of days.
I’m heading to Manhattan to celebrate a 40th birthday. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, but it is the first I’ve done it for someone other than me.
As we prepared for the trip, the guest of honor, Standard Time, sent us an email with some information about our lodging. We will be staying at a posh, members only hotel/club and, as a result, there are several rules. Examples include:
After midnight, only registered room guests will be admitted.
Food or beverage may not be brought into the House for consumption in a public area.
Business casual dress, as defined below, is required in all public rooms except for the athletic facilities at all times.
Business casual dress for women includes: collared shirts; blouses; turtlenecks or sweaters; and skirts or tailored pants.
Not permitted are: shorts, tee shirts, casual sandals, athletic wear of any kind (including footwear and caps), and torn, provocative or revealing clothing.
Mixed in with the rules, were ‘notes:’
Club employees have been instructed to call attention to violations and to request that the Member conform to the rules.
Members who refuse to remedy a violation may be escorted from the House.
There is a chance this place may rule out any chance for fun. Standard Time assured us, however, that breaking the rules is fun. “Last time I was there I got in trouble for eating a bagel in the lobby.” Meshuga! Typically rules result in me being like Ryan Seacrest – out. I’m not going to let this happen. Instead, I’m going to consider a different perspective. What is business casual for a ho? Looks like I may be pulling out my heather gray sweat suit.
With her wee dog in tow and a ‘walktail’ in hand, Oper stopped by to learn a little bit about WordPress from me. I showed her the basics and assured her she would be an amazing webmaster. I then showed her Google Analytics and it was a good thing she was sitting down.
When she saw what Analytics could do for the average consumer she was quite pleased. When she saw how much my readership jumped from May 31st to June 7th she nearly fell off her chair. “Look, we’re drinking a little, so I don’t want you to think this is the alcohol talking, but, yes, my readership more than quadrupled in eight days. Jumping from one reader to nineteen. Now you see why I continue to blog, it’s for the readers or, on some days, reader,” I told her. Once Oper stopped laughing, I continued on, “Business 101 might tell you to close your doors and count your losses, but None of Your Business 101 tells me to (Word) press on.”
We finished the bottle of wine, Oper’s dog took a dump on my lawn, I cut her some fresh flowers to take home and then I hurried inside to write my blog – odds are at least one person might be reading.
As a single female, one of my favorite pastimes is providing unlicensed couples counseling. Being that I don’t charge for my service, alcohol is typically involved, and I don’t advertise the service, rather, I provide it regardless of whether or not it is requested, it feels legal.
While poolside with Ice Cream Man and Sleepless, Ice Cream Man informed me Sleepless had been upset with him for several weeks and would appreciate it if, while he swam for a bit, I got to the bottom of it. “Not a problem, I love couples counseling,” I replied. I was excited for the opportunity but wondered, “I’ve chatted with Sleepless tons over the last two weeks and she mentioned none of this to me. Is she upset with me? Maybe she and I need couples counseling, but I can’t provide it, that’s not ethical.”
Sleepless ended up involved in a task (getting us more drinks) prior to Ice Cream Man getting in the pool during which time he shared with me the concerns. One of his main concerns was Sleepless would get so upset that she might leave him (even just temporarily). “Sleepless? She never leaves. That’s what I love about her,” was my professional response.
I’m not sure if this ‘session’ actually helped them, but I am sure of one thing – even though Sleepless left us temporarily, she returned and, she returned with drinks. Thus, my assessment was spot on – she never really leaves.
While celebrating Beaner’s birthday we were discussing different life events and the manner in which others conduct them. Beaner shared a story about being invited to dinner at five and, right at five, the dinner plates – complete with food, were on the table and the meal was started regardless of who had/hadn’t arrived. “That’s just crazy,” said MiaMamma and added, “Life is too short to start on time.” As we laughed at this new found idiom, Contestant #56 reminded MiaMamma of ‘asparagus’ – something MiaMamma once said in response to a conversation even though the conversation had nothing to do with asparagus. “Oh, asparagus, esophagus, what’s the difference?” MiaMamma asked. “The price per pound,” I replied.
Just prior to this event which, by the way, did not start on time, Beaner had taken me to see my surgeon for a follow-up visit. As had happened in previous visits, he wanted me to show off my range of motion. I did so and, once again, received poor reviews on my doorknob turn. “I really thought I had this one down,” I advised him. “No, you’re turning your head, not your body,” he advised. That may be true, but wouldn’t one rather turn heads than doorknobs? I mean, really, life is too short to do things right.
Many have asked to change their blog name and few have succeeded – with one exception. Oreggano has had a name change and then another name change and now, again, another name change. From this day forward, until I decide or she demands otherwise, she is Rated R.
Enough said – the rest is restricted.
Having been chaise lounge bound for the last seven weeks, I know the meaning of sleep with my day. If I’m tired, I cozy up and fall asleep. If I’m not tired, I cozy up and eventually fall asleep. I still do the routine parts of life – tend to my personal hygiene (this lame arm lost skill is improving with each day), Gladys Kravitz (a routine that started seven weeks ago), and catch up on all of the news while wondering to myself, “What day is it? Do I have things to do today?”
About a month before being curbed I found a public transit pass, purchased for me by my employer and used once, maybe twice. About a month after being curbed, I started using it. The main reason for doing so was my niece. She had stayed with me a few times during the day and, not one to just turn on the TV for the kids and go about my day, I planned adventures that involved walking. Being of lesser leg than me, this strides were big and exhausting for her so we opted to take the bus – an adventure she loved. “I want to go on a vacation on the bus, but with less stops,” she told me. I’ve thought about doing that before – riding an entire route and then riding it all the way home again.
Our stops were typically near public parks and, once there, my niece played hard. As a result, her clothes were always filthy. One day, while chasing the ducks, she slipped in the mud near the pond and landed in it. When you’re near a duck pond there is more than just mud in the mud and she hit it all. Being that we didn’t have a change of clothes, we gave her an innercity country style bath in the creek that ran through the park.
Once at home with her parents they encouraged her to take a bath, but she didn’t want any part of it. “I sleep with my day,” she told her mom and promptly fell asleep, her day in tow. Nothing wrong with sleeping with your day – I’ve been doing it for weeks.