Notes from my Phone

I often use the notes feature on my phone to remind myself of stuff that I might want to blog about later. Here are some of my entries:

Husband level = Expert

I really didn’t feel well last night.  I mean, I was whiny and moaning and saying the f-word and was definitely not a happy camper.  My husband was getting ready for bed and asked if I felt any better.  I rolled over in bed and moaned no.  He then asked if he needed to take me to the emergency department.  I quickly told him no, that it wasn’t that kind of sick.  His response?  Then can you go sleep in the office so I can go to bed?

My daughter and I were discussing relationships.  I told her one of the things that her dad and I did was always be respectful and polite to each other.  “I mean, your father never once called me fat,” was how I put it.  My husband walked in as I was saying that and immediately said, “Who called you fat!?”

Age 15 vs. 25

So my son recently met up with an old girlfriend from high school (it amazes me how he remains friends with all his exes).  I guess she gave him an old diary that she had written after they broke up at age 15.  His quote to me was “Shit you wrote when you are 15 doesn’t age well reading it at age 25.”  He never finished it.

Ford Truck

You are driving a 4X4 Ford truck.  Do you really need to s-l-o-w the hell down to go over the railroad track?

Game of Thrones

I am so glad I never got into the show Game of Thrones.  Because I heard the season finale really sucked.

Text messages on car speaker

I am so sorry I put your text message on speaker while driving in the car with my husband.  In my defense, I had no idea you were texting me about your vagina.

 

 

 

 

Not exactly a face plant…

I’m clumsy. I’ll admit it.  I definitely would blame my shoes (and have thrown out a pair or two to absolutely clarify fault) but last weekend I had nothing.

I have no idea what made me think that I should ditch the shopping cart in the grocery store and try to carry 18 filled grocery bags to my car. Because I fell. In the crosswalk. In front of God and everybody. Have you heard of a face plant?  Well, mine was more of a…boob plant.  Because I landed squarely on my chest.  Hard.  Luckily for me, I had a bag full of frozen pizzas that helped soften the fall.

I mean, I was in the crosswalk to ensure that as many people as possible could witness my fall.  I heard someone get out of their car.  I heard “OMG! Are you okay?”  All within a nano-second of my jumping back up, grabbing my bags and loudly stating “I’m Fine!  I’m Okay!”  and running to my car in absolute embarrassment.  I could have had a broken hip and blood flowing profusely from my body and it still would not have stopped me from getting out of there in under 20 seconds.

When I got home, I decided not to tell my husband.  Frankly, I just wasn’t in the mood to hear the same lecture about needing to be more careful, watch where I am going, you could really get hurt, etc. etc. (I’ve already admitted this isn’t my first).  But then when I went to bed a few hours later, I had a small breathing issue.  In that I couldn’t breathe laying down.  So I thought it would be best if I admitted what happened just in case I might need emergency medical attention in the middle of the night or something.  Thankfully I did not and the recliner came to my rescue to help me sleep sitting up.

I rather thought all was well.  Until my insides started messing with me.  I got over the worst of the whole breathing thing the next day. But it felt like my insides just sloshed up all over each other which was causing some issues.   Like I couldn’t keep any food down.   Of course, my immediate thought was “Great!  Weight loss opportunity!” but after two days I became a tad more concerned.

Because besides not being able to o keep any food down, my insides just felt—weird.  Like they were all disconnected and in the wrong place.

What I should NOT have done was google: “Medical issues from a hard fall.” Because you get results that pretty much tell you to go to the emergency department and you are going die.  And that is after the surgery you will need to repair the tear in your diaphragm.

Okay, fine.  Off to the doctor I go.  Luckily I got the same urgent care doctor that I saw two weeks earlier who remembered me (I could insert my diarrhea story here but I won’t; you’re welcome).  When I explained my concern, he said if it were too severe I would need to go to the ED.  Which made me quickly back pedal on the urgency of my symptoms because I knew that was not going to happen. He poked around and didn’t seem to find any real pain and finally told me if the vomiting didn’t go away by the end of the week, I should go see my primary care doctor.  And called in a prescription for nausea medicine.

Ultimately I self-diagnosed myself with bruised ribs.  Which when googled explained exactly what I was feeling.  This time I totally agreed with Google.

And I didn’t even try to explain to my husband why the frozen pizzas I had just bought were in teeny tiny pieces when he tried to cook them.

33 Years of Marriage Later

My husband and I just celebrated our 33rd wedding anniversary.  Well, I wouldn’t really say celebrated. We got each other a card and said “Happy Anniversary.”  I mean, after you do this 33 times, you kind of know how it is going to go down.

So I got my husband a bag of beef jerky.  In his card, I told him that Google said the gift item for the 33rd Anniversary was dried meat.  My sister-in-law said it was really dream catchers. I decided to go with the dried meat. My husband is definitely not a dream catcher kind of guy.

He got me a new weed wacker and leaf blower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Exactly what I wanted! (Again, 33 years means if I want whimsical, I go buy it)

After 33 years I thought I would offer a few notes of what it means to be married for so long:

  • I was happy to find out that my husband also checks me in the middle of the night to make sure I haven’t died in my sleep.
  • After being sick for two days I found a sick full of dirty dishes and overflowing trash. But that is okay.  It will be a cold day in hell before I change a light bulb.
  • My husband had been experiencing headaches for over two weeks.  I told him to go to the doctor.  He said he had an appointment on Thursday. With a dermatologist.
  • My husband told me to “send him in” for cigars. I brought back cinnamon (and didn’t even question the request).
  • We still argue over bologna sandwiches with mustard vs. bologna sandwiches with mayo and cheese.
  • We both secretly love it when the other falls asleep in the living room while watching TV so we can go to bed first and have the entire bed to ourselves.
  • We think of each other during the day and then the phone rings and we call each other.  Very annoying but happens all the time!
  • I forget to tell him that he has to make his famous beans and weenies for my office summer lunch potluck until 8 pm the night before.  And he says “You have to be fucking kidding me.” And then makes it.

Looking forward to year 34.  If I remember correctly I believe the gift item is wooden kitchen utensils.

 

Two Stories:

MY DAUGHTER’S NEW JOB

My daughter recently got a new job which is great.  She has finished all her training and is now working on her own and really enjoying it.  Until last Tuesday:

Eighteen text messages later I had agreed with every text she sent and finally got her calmed down.  In order to share the experience, I forwarded some of the texts to my husband and suggested that she share her annoyance.

And then I got one more text an hour later:

This is what I am sending her for her birthday next month:

STORY #2

IT’S ALL ABOUT THE PETS:

Abbey gets a summer cut every year.  She went to a new groomer this year.  Amanda said she was super good and everyone from the vet office would come back and say her name and she would wag her butt and tail in happiness. Amanda finally had to tell everyone to stop doing that.

Here is the before picture:

And here is the after picture:

My cute little one-eyed dog!  (But don’t tell her – she had it removed a few years back due to cancer)

And here is Abbey waiting patiently for Boca to finish taking a drink. Boca takes FOREVER to finish and poor Abbey has to just wait.  Sometimes she gets close and drools on him. BTW, that is their “Special Water.”  For some reason both animals think it is much better than the water inside. Probably because it has ice cubes.

And here is Boca being Boca when I refused to let him bother me while typing:

 

 

 

LWL Headlines

Sometimes I come across headlines or news stories that crack me up:

$175,000

The amount of cash that rained down on an Atlanta interstate after an armored truck’s door unexpectedly opened. Some drivers pulled over to scoop up the money; police want them to give it back. (MSN.com)

Yeah, I wouldn’t give it back.  This would be considered the cost of doing business and why there is insurance.

Fighter Pilots Draw Penis in the Sky.  Air Force says it was an accident. By Zachary Cohen, CNN (May 30,2019)

Of course they said it was an accident.  Because drawing boobies would make them too dizzy.

Cows Genetically Modified to Burp and Fart Less Could Cut Methane Emissions by Half (Newsweek, 7-15-19)

I wish I could genetically alter my son so his emissions would be cut in half as well. Or at least give me advance notice when he cuts one in the car.

Crashed spacecraft may have left tiny, hardy ‘moss piglets’ on the moon 

I want a job where I get to name shit “tiny, hardy ‘moss piglets.”  Except I would go with “minuscule glistening earth dribbles.”

Lightning struck a house and made a toilet explode

“The Exploding Toilets” would be a great name for a rock band.

Las Vegas Grasshopper Invasion sparks drink specials.

They are available in green glasses shaped like a grasshopper and costs $28.99.

You Can Now Get Matching Christmas Pajamas With Your Dog (Country Living, Aug 13 12:12 PM CDT)

I had totally planned on putting in a picture with my dog in pajamas but she wanted nothing to do with it.

We regret to inform you that pumpkin spice Spam exists (Morgan Sung, Mashable, 8/15/19)

I have never recovered from eating regular Spam as a child.

 

And Finally:

Our networking and virtualization teams identified an issue between the load balancer and the VMWare connection servers in the Secondary Data Center that present virtual desktops to thin and zero clients.

An IT explanation that should end with: “Which totally explains the explosion.”

 

A Good Time to Clean out the Glove Box

Got pulled over this morning on my way to work.  I mean, I saw the State Trooper sitting there.  I even checked my speed.  My immediate thought process was that there was no way I would be pulled over going 82 in a 70 when everyone else normally traveled around 80 mph.  But nooooooo. As soon as I saw the lights come on and the car pull onto the highway I knew I was toast.

So, using my blinkers appropriately and safely reducing my speed, I calmly prepared for the inevitable.

I pulled over and put on my hazards.  Turned my radio to NPR (you never know) and left my hands on the steering wheel in plain sight like I remember you were supposed to do from some article I read once.

Officer Campbell was very nice.  She introduced herself (I felt like I was supposed to say, “Hello, nice to meet you.  My name is Lori.”).  She told me she pulled me over for speeding and asked if I knew what the speed limit was.

I told her:  “It is posted 70 although the law was changed over two (2) years ago to 75 and I was going 82.”  And then I smiled.

She asked for my license, registration and insurance.

License was no problem.  For some reason, I could not easily locate the other in the messy glove compartment that my husband is always bitching about.  Officer Campbell waited a few minutes and then told me she would be back and I could give it to her then.

I continued to shuffle though the extra straws, napkins, menus, matchbooks and some stupid CD that I swear had been transferred to each new vehicle since 2006.  In fact, she took so long I decided to go ahead and clean out my glovebox.  Threw out all the paper goods, straws and the CD.  Neatly compiled all the maintenance papers into one pile.  Placed my tire gauge and the tire changing apparatus in the bottom.  Took out my registration and insurance card and put it in my purse for when she returned.

I handed both of them to her when she came back.  She looked them over and then said I needed to make sure to get an updated insurance card.  Which surprised me because my husband is a real stickler about insurance.

Officer Campbell just gave me a warning.  That was very kind of her.

Had some time to decide how to let my husband know.  My options were:

  1. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work. Let him get all pissy and then tell him I only got a warning.
  2. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work but only got a warning. Thus avoiding the whole pissiness thing.
  3. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work. Take $200 from bank to “pay for the ticket” and spend it at Walmart.
  4. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work and need $2,500 bail money because I tried to outrun the cop.

Settled with option 2 (paying being nice forward).  But did bitch that my insurance card had expired in 2017.  What is with that?  He told me he gets the new cards, cuts it out and leaves it on the counter and it is my responsibility to make sure it gets into the proper place.  Obviously something I have been ignoring for over two years.

LWL Week in Pictures

Someone should go to jail for leaving three sad Cheetos in a bag!

 

I went to work and put my iced tea in the freezer.  And then forgot about it. By the time it was lunch, it was completely frozen.  So then I had to put it in front of my little heater on high to melt it.  Lunch was so exhausting that day!

Here is my daughter’s birthday present.  I won’t mail it until next month.  But in the meantime she can review the picture and try to figure out what it is.  Because I know her.

No, this is not days worth of cat food. This is our cat who didn’t like the other two plates of cat food and meowed until he got what he wanted.  Because no one wants to hear him and he is too old to argue with.

Has anyone seen the little lighthouse that was on the counter in the bathroom?

And finally:

Our damn backyard is getting so overgrown with weeds it looks like a Kincaid picture.