It's Not that I Can't Read...

So, as one will do after years of forced (albeit mostly enjoyable) reading and writing, I took a break of reading and writing.  Well, not completely.  You can see from my blog that I lost the writing thing.  I didn't completely lose the reading thing, but I did do it as sparingly as my writing.

Having grown up a voracious reader, this was shocking to me.  From the age of about four until I was 33, I was always reading a book.  All the time.  I always had a book going.  I'm generally a book snob, so often it was Steinbeck or Hemingway or Flannery O'Conner or McCarthy or Palahnuik or some such artsy fartsy character study.  But, I did delve into the fabulous world of true crime, Steven King, and most anything V.C. Andrews because I am human and a female.  I have read most rock bios and those of Hollywood's leading ladies up through about Natalie Wood.  I reread my favorites and found new ones to love.

Then it stopped.  After years of undergrad and grad school (in which my degree is reading and writing based), I just lost reading.  Lost it.  Sure, I've read a few books in the last few years, but it is just that.  A few.  I think it may be three. One was I am Not Myself These Days. One was the novelization of the movie Urban Cowboy.  And, one of those was Fifty Shades of Grey that turned out to be just as stupid and pathetic and unsexy and anger inducing (not because it was overly sexed but because that girl was the worst sub ever and had no right to be such an asshole about it the whole flipping book since she knew what she was getting into although they never really got into it at all and had boring sex the whole book until he spanked her and she left him just proving that women are pretty absurd and often times too bossy and bitchy for anyone to actually like) as I thought it would be.  By the way, don't bother with it.  It's soap opera porn for bored moms.

Anyway, this lack of my ability to get interested in a book started bothering me.  I've revisited my favorites: East of Eden, And I Don't Want to Live this Life, Lolita, The Shining.  I've tried.  I got part way through each of them and quit. I started other books and never finished.  I have a Eudora Welty, a Wally Lamb, a biography of Keith Moon, a book about being a drummer in a band, the Bob Mould biography, and a Christopher Moore book all going.  I've not finished a one and none of them are even in anywhere I can find them.

So, I've been worried about and bothered by this for a while now.  Like really bothered.  I'm a reader.  I'm a writer (mostly meaning I write things.  I am not so brave or sure of myself to call myself an actual writer). This has always kinda been my thing.  So, it has bothered me.  I've tried to force myself to read, but it hasn't worked.  I even have a Kindle (which is the coolest thing I own, and I love it so much!), so I've downloaded books.  And, nothing.

Then something happened.  My dad and step-mom came to visit a couple of weeks ago and brought an old box of books I left in their attic when I was a teenager.  In it was a book-the book- that seems to have broken my not wanting to read spell.  When I picked it up, I knew. I knew that was the book that would do it, and I took to reading it that night.  It wasn't a quick a read as I suspected it would be, but it was the book. I'm actually now rereading it just because I enjoyed it the first time.  I'd read it before some years ago, and I am so glad I packed it away in a box for me later to rediscover, devour, and enjoy.   The book, you ask?

For real.  Thank you, Judy Blume!

The Rule of Judy and Phil

Now, you may or may not know a lot about me. If you have taken the time to read this entire goofy blog, you may know more than most.  Of course, you could actually know me in real life.  If you do, than you probably do know me more than most.  Or not.  I mean, I know the person who delivers Milano's to our house, but I don't think they know me very well.

Anyway, that being said, there is one thing that most people don't know about me.  I live by what I call "The Rule of Judge Judy and Dr. Phil."  Lots of things happen in life.  Everyday you have to make decisions

whether they big or small, life changing or just what you want for lunch.  Almost all we do is make decisions.  And, when it comes to me making decisions, before I pick the direction of which I should go, I stop and think...If I had to explain this to Judge Judy or Dr. Phil, would they call me an idiot?  Based on if they would, I make my decision.

I have been doing this for some 10 years now, and it has yet to steer me wrong. I deployed it some years ago (and for a lengthy stretch of time) when the hubbie's ex-wife would call or email me ranting like a loon. Yes, I wanted to tell that cuckoo bird off.  I mean, who wouldn't.  But, did I?  No.  In fact, because I know both JJ and DP would frown on it, I didn't speak with her or respond with her in any way.  At all.  Never.  Not one time.  I figure if I ever had to stand in front of either of those people, they would say I was right in doing that.

I have done it when deciding what to do with money.  Listen up, People.  You know what I did?  I bought a car from one of my best friends!  On a payment plan!  And, guess what?  Judge Judy was right there with me when I made sure to pay him on time every month until it was paid off.  You never mix friendship with business or money.  Yes, good advice.  But, when you follow the rule of Judy and Phil, you can do it!

I really do believe that more people should use this rule.  Of course, the real name of the rule is common sense.  But, since most people don't like to use that, I think they should really think about using "The Rule of Judge Judy and Dr. Phil."  You'd be surprised at the messes it keeps you out of.

Happy Fuddy Duddy Ween!

It's that time of year again.  The pumpkins are being carved.  Candy bowls are filling up.  Zombies and vampires and creatures and ghouls are making their homes on front lawns and in windows and in trees.  The kiddos are getting dressed up in their favorite costumes, and if you live here in Austin (where there are only about 17 kids), the adults are getting their slut/zombie outfits together.  It's turning cold and everyone is hoping it doesn't rain for the year's only freaky scary holiday...Halloween.

Now, here's the thing.  Halloween is a great holiday.  It's a lot of fun.  People are excited.  There are parties and parades and pinatas and tricks.  No matter what day of the week, people go out in hoards to drink and be merry.  And, this year I have just come to the conclusion that I simply don't care.  I don't.  At all.  I want to.  I want to love Halloween.  I don't hate it.  I'm going to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.  I'm going to eat candy because the husband brought some home.  I have been invited to Halloween festivities.  But, for some reason, I just don't care that much.  And, I don't know why!  I always thought it may be because I wear glasses, so all my costumes have to incorporate glasses which is honestly just no fun.

I kinda feel like when it comes to cooking or photography or things like that.  My generation, especially in my town, should really enjoy these things.  And, it isn't like I hate them.  In fact, I quite like when others do these things.  I just can't pretend that they are for me.  And, that's the way it is with Halloween.  I just kinda don't mind not dressing up or doing anything.  I feel like a fraud in cool town.

I feel the same way with New Year's Eve.  There's always so much pressure.  I only get nervous when I am supposed to be having fun. When it's required and should be a given, I tend to panic and have not so much fun at all.  It's a bit deranged, I know.  But, in that, I don't mind so much not caring much about Halloween.

Now, oddly, as I have gotten older I have started to love the hell out of Christmas.  I used to hate it.  I love presents and food and whatnot.  But, the happiness and joy always made me sneer.  But, the older I get, the  more Avon porcelain Christmas trees and pink paper angels I want all over my house.  This year I'm even gonna make the Jodler hang up lights.  Oh yes, I am.

But, back to Halloween.  I don't know why I just don't care.  But, I really don't.  I wish I cared more.  I think it might make me more fun.  Or not. It might just me more nervous.  All that being said, though, I hope everyone has a great one.  I will eat candy in your honor!  Happy Halloween!

Maybe I can get behind this kind of Halloween.  Michael Myers ain't got nothing on these people.

I'm Having a Love Affair for 21-23 Minutes at a Time

So, when it comes right down to it, I may be an oddball of human society.  I mean, sure I am just generally an oddball of human society.  But, I am talking about a different reason. I am a lover of the Great American sitcom.  I know lots of people like sitcoms, but I LOVE them. It is my preferred genre of television.  And, I can't really tell you how much I love TV.  It's my favorite thing.  I love it. I have it on all the time.  I like the noise, but mainly, I love the shows! I'm pretty sure that makes me a freak.

There have been LOTS of sitcoms over the years.  And, I pretty much like them all.  I have a great love of some.  Roseanne is by far the best ever written.  The Cosby Show is hilarious and lovable and pretty dang good.  The Office (both versions) funny and is easy to relate to.  I Love Lucy is a classic that cracks me up.  The Big Bang Theory is just great because I know some Sheldon Coopers and most of the cast of Roseanne is on it.  All in the Family was groundbreaking, but it was also just dang funny.  Reba is just silly enough to make me love it.  Arrested Development...well, nothing need be said to that.  You should just understand it.

Of course, there are the lesser known sitcoms that no one remembers, but I loved dearly.

 

Stark Raving Mad.  Look it up. It was Monk before Monk was cool.   And Doogie after he wasn't.

It's Your Move.  Hotty Bateman back in the day.  Man, I loved that show. 

I Married Dora.  Fellow weirdo Juliette Lewis in an immigration fraud comedy.  It's actually pretty awesome.

Double Trouble.  Twins who are Peg Bundy's sisters.  And, they dance.  In the 80s.  I loved it.

The Torkelsons.  I just loved this show.  It was cute! They were country when country wasn't cool.  I don't know if it's cool now, either.  But, I still like this show.

Just the Ten of Us.  This may have been my favorite forgotten show.  It was a spin-off of Growing Pains.  It was better than Growing Pains.  I can't believe they canceled it.  I blame Nancy from Nightmare on Elm Street.  I think she scared people.

One thing I am grateful for is Netflix streaming.  They have a lot of sitcoms on there.  I have watched many series in their entirety because of that sweet, sweet technology.  Sadly, I have watched all of Family Ties, Frazier, Everybody Loves Raymond, The Office, Last Man Standing, Accidentally on Purpose, Traffic Light, 10 Items or Less, and Make Room for Daddy just to name a few.  Not all are great.  Some are kinda dumb.  But, for some reason, I can just about watch any sitcom thrown my way.

Now, of course, there are exceptions.  For the life of me I can't stand Cheers, News Radio, According to Jim, Rules of Engagement, and The Simpsons (if you consider it a sitcom).I can't bear them, and I don't know why.  And, that may be odd because I don't hate Frazier, but I sure hate Cheers.  And, in fact, I don't like Kelsey Grammer.  So, go figure.  But, in my opinion, these shows are unwatchable.  And, I will flat out admit that I like Two and a Half Men...both kinds.  

So, there's that.  I am a freak.  I will miss Whitney.  I will pray to the Spaghetti that The Goldbergs last.  I can only hope that The Mindy Project doesn't go the way of Happy Endings.  And, I can hope that one day they will flat out just replay all of Designing Women and Gimme a Break!  I doubt they will, but a sitcom maniac can always hope.  

A Toe is a Many Splendored Thing

So, my first real blog back is not going to be about me so much as it is going to be about my dear, sweet husband.  Not only is he the greatest person I've ever met, but he also has toe luck like no one I have ever met.  If there is something near his foot, he will stub it.  If something is going to fall of the table, it will land on his foot.  There is nothing those poor baby toes of his haven't experienced...until last night.  Last night he experienced toe horror in ways I have never seen.

So, here's my sweet Babboo.  He's giving the old thumbs up.  He's smiling.  He's going to hate this picture because it makes him look much wider than he actually is.  But, he's got a good outlook. He's also laying in a stretcher in a hallway at the ER.

I'm here for physical not mental issues.  I promise.

So, what is holy toe brought us here?  What in the world of pain has landed us in the ER on a Friday night?

THIS!

Well, that doesn't look too bad.

So, it seems Hubby Extraordinaire was all about being a great guy last night.  We had eaten dinner and were having an early evening because we both had to be up this morning by 5.  So, we had dinner, and were sitting on the couch watching TV when he decides that he will make us some cocoa.  Since it was a very cool night (finally!), he thought we should snuggle up and drink some cocoa.

Off to the kitchen he goes.  He starts heating milk in a saucepan.  Then I hear it.  A thunk, a glass breaking and a holler.  And, it wasn't like a regular old glass breaking, it was more like GLASS BREAKING.  

I jumped up, and there hopping in the kitchen was my poor baby hopping around and bleeding profusely among an formerly unopened jar of pickles.  Blood and brine was flowing all over the place.  And, something was hanging off.  

We got him into the bathroom (albeit a bit difficult in his bare feet with a kitchen covered in glass), and there was his poor middle toe.  At first we both thought the end was cut off.  Luckily, we were wrong.  It was the nail being torn off and hanging by a thread.  It was cut and bleeding and yuck!  He himself was trying not to vomit and was quite grey.  His eyes, normally a glowing Prince Charming blue, had gone clear and seawater green which is usually reserved for HEADACHES.  So, I knew it was bad.  This toe wasn't looking good.  There was no amount of peroxide and generic Band-aids that could have fixed it in our house.  So, we opted for the ER.  Oh, and there was that profuse bleeding.  See up there?  See how he's bleeding through that entire roll of gauze on his foot?  Yep, I couldn't fix that.

So, we loaded up, stopped and got gas (by the way, I feel really bad because I was way too lazy earlier to get gas.  I should have gotten gas. I feel so bad about that.)  Anyway, off we went to the ER.  And, good thing we did because it was so much worse than I though.  I don't know how much less worse Jody thought it was because he was feeling it, and I was just staring at it.  But, it was bad.  Two hours in-after waiting for though a gun shot to the abdomen, a heart attack, a lady in labor, a lady in labor having a heart attack, a little girl with a broken arm, and a bad case of the asthma (which all deserved immediate treatment)-we found out that not only had he cut that damn roast beef eater to hell, but he had (as the doctor put it) pulverized the bone at the end of his toe.  We saw the x-rays.  There is just nothing there.  And, to top it off, he lost the nail, got 8 stitches (which is a lot in a toe), and may lose the end of his toe.  Also, the nail will probably not grow back.  So, when my man hurts his toe, he hurts his toe.  All good things for a drummer who has to walk a lot at his day job.  

Oh, I feel so bad for him.  You wanna feel bad for him, too?  I will post some fancy pictures of his poor middle toe.  They're gross.  They're hard to look at.  I was lucky enough to get used to it and got to see the whole ordeal in action!  But, oh my poor, poor Sweet Pea!  Oh, and the best part is that since it is an open fracture, it's prone to infection.  Guess who's allergic to penicillin?  And guess what happens when you pulverize a bone in your foot.  It hurts.  Guess who's allergic to codeine, a component of almost all pain killers?  You guessed it!  Poor, Gimpy himself.  I love that man, and I feel so bad for him.  

Wanna see it?  Wanna see the real it?  The toe in all it's glory?  I'll show ya.  I will!  Scroll down.  I'll give you a chance not to vomit if you don't want to.  So, I'll put them way at the bottom.  Well, if it let's me post like that.  I'm not so great with these fancy writing interwebs appliprograms.  So, it may just pop up right below these words.

Yay, it didn't.  

This is the cleaned up toe just before we got to see it in real life action! Please note on the big toe is the final growing out of blackened toenail when he dropped a laptop on his toe last year.  One door closes, and the damn window opens, I guess.

Yes!  This mutant thing is Jody's toe.  You see why we thought it was cut off.

And, the poor thing never got to drink his cocoa or eat a pickle!  Dang, that's some bad luck.

I'm Back on the Blogger, Again!

Well, Tumblr bites.  And, I may be getting older, but I am not yet old.  So, if I can't figure something out in this length of time, it's not worth figuring out.  Besides, this way is way more fun.  I have no idea why, but it is.  Actually, I'm terrible with change.  Not all change. I move more than most people change cars.  However, regular old change bothers me.  Not too much, but just enough.

So, I think I shall start this up again.  I wonder what I will talk about.  I guess I should have thought about that before I started writing.  Nah, that would be far too unlike me.  I'll come up with something.  Tomorrow.

I've Changed Addresses!

Okay, so I used to be a crazy obsessed blogger.  For real.  You can just click over there and see how many I posted.  A lot.  But, then I got lazy.  I got annoyed.  I was tired of being a self-obsessed attention hog.  I went on hiatus.  Well, that's changed.  The needy me is back!  But, not here.  I've changed.  With that change came the need for something new.  So, I present to you...

http://ramonaquimbyageold.tumblr.com/

Yep, a tumblr account.  Honestly, I just can't figure out the new blogspot/blogger.  So, I changed.  Oh, and tumblr has a better phone app.  Since I am hip to the now, I gotta go modern.  At least I think I do.

So, go now and read the adventures of Ramona Quimby, Age Old.  I realized that's who I've been channeling all these years.  It's no wonder I forget to brush my hair!