Like clumps of wet sand in socks......

                  We all age. It's true. People can get all the surgery they want, wear all the make-up they want, do whatever it is they think will keep them looking young, but they will still age. Everyone will still know they are aging.
                  I personally am quite excited about it. For one, each birthday, means I lived another year! In my book, that's a bonus. Second, I am truly hoping that I end up with completely white hair. I figure I can wear age inappropriate hair-dos, and become the weird old lady on the block. Okay so that's not really much different, but it's better than just weird lady!!! There is something though, that I am looking forward to more.
                 No, I think 'looking forward to' is probably not the right phrase. It's more, well, I'm filled with anticipation, that is composed of morbid curiosity and a twisted sense of humour. I think that's about right. This thing has to do with boob aging.
                It's seems these days not only are women obsessed with keeping their boobs from pointing to the floor, but so are men. I think I will refrain from commenting on the latter, it's just too easy. The point is, it's quite natural. Gravity will bring us all down eventually. Boobs especially, they are just dead weight.
              The image I have created in my head is quite funny, possibly a little fantastic, but so be it. I picture with time what we used to think of as our 'fun bags' are going to start to deflate. Unlike a balloon however they still have the same mass. So, with the gravitational sag, they will inevitably get thinner as well. Thinner and thinner, longer and longer, but at the bottom all the weight will come together. Hence the title. What used to be our beautiful melons are now our wrinkly saggy breasts, that now resemble clumps of wet sand in a pair of socks. It's not at all right. Yet I find it really funny.
             That was really the main bit I needed to get off my chest. So as I wait for all this, I sit and enjoy the little aging signs. I have some white hairs sprouting here and there. I might have to write an entire post about the facial hair that is now creating it's own scary world on my face and neck. But there will be a day when I will be able to say to myself:  "You finally got the SAG!!!"

This one is dedicated to a family member who chooses to remain nameless. SHE and I talked about this very subject the other day. She had one up on me (I am laughing right now actually), she thinks, we should all spin them around and dance! I thought they could become great cleaning objects- add socks, and you save money on a broom. Both good ideas! So this goes out to you, family member!!! You know who you are!!! (And I know I didn't tell the whole story...I just couldn't!!! heheheheh)

kimbersfrog

Me? A factoid... bahhh, no, I .... O.K., probably...

            I was first introduced to the factoid without realizing it. I could give you the dictionary definition of a factoid, but that would ruin my version. I am going to use the term loosely. To me and my family it is a statement that has been told as if it is a fact. The reason for that is more often than not because the person telling it, actually believes it. This is either because it fits nicely into their argument and somewhere in their head it makes the most sense (which usually turns out to be true, right?). Other times I think two facts get switched with the wrong subjects, or something like that. I think you get the idea. It's very easy to convince someone of something, if you're not trying to convince them because you actually believe it.
           I try to keep my factoids to a minimum. If I notice one, I try to slurp it back in, or make a joke of it. Unless of course I'm with my family, then I like to see if I can pass it off.
           Now, I have done it. I was teaching a person. Teaching. Then a giant, whopping FACTOID just oozed out of my mouth like melted butter. Really I was smooth. in about a half of a second, I realized what it was. I think my eyes must have gotten about 3 sizes larger! I was thinking, CRAP what do I do?! Keep going? Hope she doesn't notice or remember for that matter. However, what if she asks me a question about it. And that, my friends, is exactly what she did... before I even got to totally freeze in my own embarrassment. 
          Honestly, right now, I have no idea what it was about. But, I ended up telling her that I might have just told her a factoid. Then I had to try to explain a 'factoid'.  Luckily, I am very good at explaining things I do know. I was even able to make her laugh.

This story is dedicated to my father who started me on my factoid journey. And yes Dad, you do resemble that remark. (Like father like daughter.... oh and other daughter... oh and mother too.)

kimbersfrog

The waiting room...how i hate it!!!!

           Let me begin by saying what we all know is true. No matter how inviting they think they've made the waiting room, it never really is. The waiting room is not the only reason I don't look forward to the doctor with childish glee, but at least a third of it. At least.
           We can start small if you like. What about the fact that they've been using the same highlights, women's days, farmer's almanacs, science mags (only one type of course), soap opera's digests, and people mags for the same 20 to 30 years. Really? They couldn't just get one or two subscriptions and have some new reading material, for the extraordinarily long wait time we all are going to have to endure? Couldn't that be considered torture? And how slimy with bacteria are those magazines anyway? Day after day, month after month, year after year, being touched and prodded (oh and don't forget the lick your finger to turn the page people), all by sick people or people who are caring for sick people. People who have just wiped their nose on their ineffective now broken tissue. Need I go on?
          That quite nicely brings me to my next issue. The lovely atmoshpere. You walk in past the coughing and snotting people to the little window. As you are introducing yourself, you try not to notice all the greasy fingerprints and hand smears at the bottom... knowing full well that they are also on the pen you will be shoved in just a second. You can't do anything about it, because once again, you forgot a pen, as you do every time. Of course you were more interested in making sure you had clean underwear and non-smelly socks at the doctor's office. Inevitably you hear some heinous hacking behind you (probably a little too close for comfort). Usually it's a wet one. The question that comes to mind first? Do I have a giant loogie on my back? The waiting area is just an uncomfortable germ infested primitive place in which we are forced to sit and sit and sit.
             The wait is so long yet always, they have such truly uncomfortable chairs. I'm pretty sure doctors have heard of lumbar support. I know doctors are over worked, and over booked. However if they know and we know that there is going to be a huge wait, couldn't there be blankets and a cot? Anything to make it more bearable.
             It might be why they went for T.V. in the waiting rooms. Is it necessary to have the T.V. on? I think not. There are one of three things on, in any office, a game show (Price is Right or Wheel of Fortune), news or soap operas. None of these are good options. The state people are in, news and soap operas can worsen their mood in a nano-second. Bad move. Games shows have a better chance, but you also always get that annoying person who enjoys shouting out answers or just claps or yahoos, which annoys everyone else. Oh yeah, and did I mention they put it on just loud enough for everyone to know it's on but not loud enough for anyone to know what is being said?
             Then of course there is the actual doctor's office. It is generally better. It's also much easier to believe that it's free of germs. I generally have no problems exactly with doctors, but it's not usually thrilling either. One option, I'm there because something is  wrong. That's not happy. Or I'm there because I have to be for an analysis for the year or whatever. I am getting older you know. If it's for an analysis- that means needles and urine. Yuk and yuk.
            So this was the reason I saw the doctor today. An analysis, getting to know your new doctor's office analysis. Yippee! Even better, after only 5 hours of sleep, I got to get up at 7 to get there by 8... wow so lucky am I. I am in a different country now. Things are a bit different. I will say, although the waits can be long they are not consistently. And there are no magazines in the waiting area- one problem solved. There is no T.V.- two problems solved. Chairs... still horribly uncomfortable. And although there is still the human contingent, somehow the place seems much cleaner. Maybe it's the lack of decorating, maybe not, I don't really care. It's nice. It's also nice that the door is left open.
          The urine. Don't worry, I won't go into too much detail. Promise! But if you here what they have a person do you might understand another reason it's so clean in there. The time I went in to meet my doctor, she said she wanted an analysis, so I made the appointment at the desk. Before the woman let me leave she handed me a plastic bag with  a plastic cup. I glanced at it, and put it in my bag and left. Later, I looked more carefully. Actually there were also two test tubes. True. So now I'm quite confused (as if I wasn't already a bit doubtful on how to walk for ten minutes without spilling my urine out of a plastic cup with no top). I ask my boyfriend, what's up with the test tubes? He briefly looked, he said he wasn't sure but it's pretty obvious right, you put your pee in them. Oh, so I felt a bit ridiculous for not figuring it out. Still, all I could think of was spilling all over the place, I'm quite good at klutzy. My point being, everyone does the dirty bit at home, cleans it up before they come, and the toilets there aren't puddles with urine. Again problem solved!

             Now, for the blood draw. I always hate this. I know it doesn't hurt, not really. Yet I can't stand it. Luckily, it was smooth. Actually I almost didn't feel it at all. Truly shocking. But as per usual I did not stay the five minutes after the blood draw. Nor did I eat something like a cookie. I just went on my merry way. And that is all there is to say.

         

kimbersfrog

I am cheap. It's true.

             It's true. I'm cheap. I don't have much of a choice about it, but I would probably be cheap anyway. I do prefer however to call it something else. I like to call it, "having priorities". This is also true.
            Some things are just not worth spending money on at all. For each of us those things might be different. Then there are the things that are not worth spending much on. For me, these are kind of fun. I always end up in strange dollar stores or second hand shops. There are options for a million things I would like but never get. I find what I'm looking for and get the cheapest one possible that looks like it will do the job.
            A good example would be a lamp. I don't need anything fancy. If it works and it's cheap, sold. In the supermarket it comes down to the same thing, I don't need the name brand, I need the cheap brand, most of the time. And by the way, I have found that most supermarket brand toilet paper are usually more comfortable. And you tend to get more for your money than the name brands- just sayin'.
           The one thing I continually cave on is fresh food. When I want vegetables or fruits, I want them to be good. I don't go organic all the time, but even so I never buy frozen veggies or fruits because I know the taste is just not worth my time or money. I might as well eat chalk.
           Now I've learned a little more about the organic thing. All I previously knew about it was that it had no chemicals, chemicals are bad. Pretty simple and obvious. But I figured, what could be worse than all the car fumes and everything else I breathe in all day. Plus, I thought some of the natural ingredients in these very foods, help to battle the problems that our environment creates for us.
           Actually, no. The problem with the chemicals, is they not only rids us of pests. And they help the fruits and vegetables last longer, which is unnecessarily convenient. They unfortunately also rob the soil of important vitamins and (dare I say the favorite word of the American public these days), nutrients. This means that the next crop and the next and so on will have less and less to give us. Which means we have to eat more and more of each individual fruit or vegetable to get the same vitamins and nutrients that we would've gotten from just one, before the chemicals.
           At first this angered me. Then I realized, who cares if we had been lied to all this time, really what haven't we been lied to about before? The truth is, I don't eat these things for my health, I just like fruit and vegetables. However I do find the health benifits a big bonus! So now, my cheap side, is madly thinking. Organic vs. Chemical. Hmm.
           Finally, I found a way to make it work with my "priorities"! In the long run, I will spend less on health care, because I will be eating foods that actually protect my body.

          I do not pretend that this theory is COMPLETELY sound. I however choose to believe it as if it were gospel. And since I have no reason not to believe it, well, why the hell not? Now I'm going to make fresh spinach, tomato, basil, olive oil, garlic, and mozzarella salad!!! Ohhhh yeah. All fresh, all the time!

        Mock me if you must. I would.

kimbersfrog

Thoughts to share, when no one's around: 4 options!

     When you quickly find yourself living alone (even if it is temporary), there may come a time in which you have a thought that you just need to share. In some circumstances you might not have very many options. So on one of those many lonely nights, with billions of thoughts racing through your head.... at least a few things will want to be heard.

     Here are my options as I see them. Maybe you can relate to a few....


  1) Hold it in.

  2) Run out and find the first person who stops, and start talking.

  3) Talk to yourself.

  4) Talk to the T.V., computer, or books.


  That was pretty much all I came up with. This is the problem with those solutions.


  1) If you hold it in:

        a) You might go a little batty

        b) The next loved one you talk to will THINK you've gone batty. 

           Think about it, you're probably speaking really fast, rambling incessantly, 

           and unable to let them get a word in edgewise.

  2) If you start talking to the first person you meet.

        a) Well, you will out of necessity have to speak as much as possible as

           fast as possible. (Already- this is questionable) 

        b) If they are still there- check for these three things: Are they about to

           hit you? Have they called the cops? Do they speak English? Do you 

           care? (The last question is what kills it for me.)

  3) Talking to yourself.

        a) In my opinion, this is the best option. A small comment here and 

           there. It relieves that urge. You can hopefully remember to tell someone

           for REAL later. Most importantly, it gets out.

  4) Talking to the T.V., computer or books. 

        a) Really, let's call this what it is. This is not talking. This generally leans 

           towards ranting. When you have been irritated enough by whatever is 

           on the tele, or that you've just read on the net or in a book, and so you

           must comment. You have to comment. However we can only hope that 

           while this is bound to happen, these types of irritations are not so constant. 

           It wouldn't be healthy. For that matter it wouldn't be prudent for me to suggest

           it.

     As you have read, letting out the occasional thought, is the way I choose to go. It might not be for everyone. It serves me well. Still can't wait until there are 2 people here again, but it will do for now.


kimbersfrog

The Tabloid!!!!!!

      I am fully aware that reading a tabloid magazine is the same a watching The Jerry Springer Show. But when I received that tabloid in the mail as a surprise from my sister, damn, I was so excited! For one thing, I have run out of English books to read. All I have are English teaching books and supplies, you can only read those so many times. They are definitely not made for fun, I usually don't even use them for classes.
     Now, however, now I have a tabloid! So it's full of erroneous baloney, but it's in English. Plus, truly, can you deny that it's not on some deep, disturbing, dark, level, entertaining AND funny. Come on, admit it. I could give you a very strong argument as to why you really aren't so different even if you have never touched one of these mags or watched Jerry. The truth is, it's really not important. I honestly don't care.
     I have trouble admitting some things about myself (to myself). The reason for that, well I might actually have to do something about it, like work on improving myself, or accepting it about myself. Ewww. Sadly, it is not only hard for me to lie to others but I can't lie to myself either. Damn shame. But in this particular case, the tabloid (which will remain nameless) enjoying....I have absolutely no hesitation in saying to myself or the rest of the world, "hello, I enjoy these immensely!!!"  
     My real intent with this post was to show how much a little thing can do. I must say it has taken a turn, and lost the plot a bit. I'll just leave you with this: if the world really did have to deal with: nasty psychics, half-baked medical information, a current day generation of witches that talk to their ancestor witch gods and can't get a meeting with important people to save the planet as we know it, ancient earth forms (several types) that all scare the scientists, animal psychics, etc. all in one week or month or what-have-you... all I can say is CRAP- nice knowing you!

    Well, I suggest you go out and buy one once a year and get a good laugh, if you don't want to contribute to their profit, I'm sure you can find one on the subway or on a bench somewhere. Just food for thought.

kimbersfrog

Less than a second- no control.

       Taking my medicine a couple times a day is a daily reminder that I am an epileptic. In fact in some ways it kind of grounds me by reminding me that any second, minute, or day things could be dramatically different. Today I had yet another reminder of how quickly we can go from walking, talking, and laughing it up, to lying in a hospital bed- or worse. I had some seizure activity as a car was crossing my path. This is a completely different level of reacquainting myself with the delicacy of life.
       I had just come to a stop on the corner. The car was crossing. I was waiting. A click in the middle of my head.Then my head, shoulders, and foot (all at once) ever so slightly moved forward. No control. All in under a second. I am pretty certain no one, including the driver noticed.
       Luckily that's all it was. No big jerks. No petite-mal. No grand-mal. It does however, make it impossible to ignore how incredibly fragile life is. It's not just life that is so frail, it's life as we know it.
       Of course the moments after this happened, I was a bit in auto pilot. I looked extra carefully at the street, and crossed. And now I begin to think as I continue home. I'm thinking, "It's only five minutes," and, "yeah but I still have a lot of roads to cross." Basically, a moment like that is like a giant bitch-slap of stress. Instant anxiety.
       So, all the way home I had to try to ease the tension out. Ha! Slow measured strides. Slow measured breathing. Thinking to myself, "I can make it back, I can make it back," over and over again. All I could do was ease the physical tension, until I got home. Then I could lay down and relax my mind.
      I made it home. There were no big catastrophes. I thought that was a big bonus! Unfortunately the flinches have not stopped. It's been five hours now. They have not gotten worse- that's good! But they have not subsided either- not so good. They are only happening two or three times an hour. So....
      It's weird, I've said before- I have problems with people being around when I have seizure activity of any sort. I will say though, being alone with it, truly sucks. There really is no better word for how it feels in my core. It just sucks.
      When I'm alone and this stuff happens- the questions come into my head and it's harder to get them out. 'Should I cook?', 'Would it be better to wait to go to the bathroom?', 'Can I use a knife to cut my food?', 'Which position will cause less bruising? Does it matter?', 'How long until someone finds me writhing in pain on the floor?', and of course last but definitely not least, 'How long until someone finds my body?' That last one I generally shove out of my head pretty quickly just for self-preservation. Those questions are why I hate having any form of epileptic activity by myself.
       Now I wait. Hoping they will fade. Hoping that I will get tired enough that I will be able to sleep early (I've kind of missed that boat already). I am happy that for once I live on the first floor!

kimbersfrog