Missing Mildred

There’s nothing that matches that feel good-ness you feel on a Friday afternoon when work is done and you have a three day weekend ahead of you.  That’s one of those feelings I wish I could bottle and take out of my purse when I need a little pick me up.

Normally, I’d look at a long weekend like this and look forward to late nights with the DVR and watching a ton of old movies.  Thing is, I have a class Saturday mornings from now til December so I guess my movies will have to take a backseat.

I have been trying to watch Mildred Pierce all week long.  I’ve had it on the dvr for weeks and haven’t gotten around to watching it.  I’ve watched it in 15 minute increments and have fallen asleep every time.  I haven’t fallen asleep cause it’s a bad movie.  It’s a great movie and Joan Crawford, coat hangers or not, she was fabulous in this movie and deserved that Oscar she got for it.  It’s a great story.  I’ve only gotten to the part where Veda gets her car.  I have to read every night now that I’m a college girl and I get tarred.  I still don’t know who killed Monte.  I’m thinking it was that dumb Veda and Mildred tried to make it look like Jack Carson’s character did it.  I find myself wanting to strangle Veda.

Another highlight of MP is the Eve Arden’s supporting role.  Most of our generation knew her as the principal in Grease, but, you talk about a sassy, witty and all around scene stealer?  Eve had it going on. Maybe I’ll finish it this weekend. Depends on that three hour class and what kind of homework I’ll have.

Read At Your Own Risk

As a rule, I’m not one to photograph body parts and blog them cause, well, I don’t want to gross you nice people out.  If’n I had lovely body parts, I’d probably blog them from time to time.  Plus, this is a family blog (for the most part).  I’m going to make an exception cause y’all just have to see this.  Some things have to be seen to be believed.

I got those shots day before yesterday, right?  Cortisone is a piece of cake.  The antibiotic one was really thick and was the color of really concentrated pee.  (Sorry, I don’t know how else to describe).  The first few hours I had it, it was painful, swollen and left a knot.  It was kinda bluish, about the size of a nickel that first night.  I took some analgesics before I went to bed and it took the extreme throbby-ness and soreness out.

By yesterday afternoon, when I got home, I wanted to see what it looked like.  Mr. Smiff let out a rather large gasp and said something like “My God.”  This is what it looks like now (I apologize for any mouth throwing up that may occur from what you are about to see.  I am giving you warning to step away)

I didn’t know there were so many shades of purple, did you?  I have to be strategic with how I sit.  It’s still pretty sore but it’s not throbbing anymore. I know it’s going to get uglier as it fades to that lovely green. 

Again, your Sista apologizes for any trauma you may have incurred by this post. I’ve never claimed a nice butt.

From The God’s Still In The Business of Miracles Department…

I told y’all about my friend, Pat, who has really been fighting for her life for a week now a couple days ago.  I don’t think she’s out of the woods yet, but, she’s FINALLY beginning to wake up and respond to her family.  That gets a big ol’ country, YEE HAW from me. 

 Come on, Pat….come on.  We’re pulling for ya.

Annoying Co-Worker Pause

It is now 10:03.  Annoying Co-Worker has spent two hours going from person to person in the office, retelling the story of her newly college freshman daughter’s roomate (who she has known a week) wrecking the brand new car. It’s always a tragedy and drama in this household and I know arythang. It’s tedious.

It’s going to be a long day. 

Holy Homeostasis, Batman!

When I was just a child Sista, when Strep Throat would rear it’s ugly head every year, lots of kids would get it.  I remember my sister had it and others close to me had it.  I think the reason I never had it then was cause the standard treatment was a Penicillin shot in the bottom.  The thought of having to drop my drahs to get shots there was so mortifying to me (I really didn’t care about the needle), that was just about my greatest fear was to get strep and have to get a shot.

I never got strep til I was 31 years old and it was perhaps the sickest I have ever been to date.  I wasn’t even offered a shot then.  I’m prone to sinus infections and get at least a couple a year that send me to the doctor’s office to get a perscription.   I actually keep a sinus infection rolling most of the time.  I break down and go get something for it a couple times a year.  The sinus stuff reached a level some years ago, that it was rare for me not to have one, I had a septoplasty performed to correct the deviated septum that was preventing air from getting in.  That sucker was so curved, on the X ray, Dr. Tom Holzen showed me what appeared to be like the curved handle of an umbrella and said “That’s the problem.”

I had that surgery in January of 2000 and for a good while, I didn’t have any sinus infections at all.  The doctor said it wouldn’t cure them forever, but, it would help and it did.  I know I don’t want to have any kind of sinus surgery again.

So I’ve been walking around with a sinus thing now for at least a couple months.   They’ll make me miserable for a day or two, then ease up…kinda ebb and flow.  This week it was getting to the point it was trying really hard to move south into the bronchial area so I figured I’d better get something.

I went into a new walk in place in Hendersonville since my doctor’s office is only open part of the day on Wednesday (grrr) and I’m glad I did.  I saw a PA that I swear could be Aunt B’s sister except she was blonde.  Before I saw her, I heard her through the wall and I thought “That sounds like a blogger” but couldn’t think which one and she came in and there was Blonde Aunt B. 

She looked in my nose and went “Oh goodness” and said she liked to treat sinus infections head on and would I be opposed to a couple shots.  I was not opposed and got a cortisone shot in one cheek and some sort of antibiotic shot in the other that hurt like the dickens.  It wasn’t bad going in, but, until I went to bed last night, that thing throbbed and hurt. 

It was worth the sore arse though because within about an hour, I began to feel like a different person.  Within a couple hours, I could breathe through my nose. (You don’t appreciate not being able to til you can) and I just plain feel better than I’ve felt in weeks. 

Funny how over time, you just get used to feeling bad and you just adapt and adjust and go about your routine.  Homeostasis has been interuppted (I’m trying to adapt and learn to use A & P terminology. Just ignore)  Then, when you get medicine and things start behaving normally again, you’re like “Oh mah gawsh!

Next time I have a sinus infection, I’m going to see Aunt B’s twin.  I’m also going to ask the regular doctor why they don’t offer to shoot their patients up more.

Sad Songs

You wanna hear a sad country song? Here ya go!

Dedicated to Gastrica. Hee.

One I forgot yesterday and LOVE is “Long Black Limousine.”

Just Call Me Lucy Ricardo-Queen Laboratory-ess

Thoughts on my first day of school…

The class was packed.  I’d say the median age was 25 and up.  There was one or two who looked like they could’ve been playmates of the Manchild at one time, but, for the most part, it was grownups.  It’s mostly people who are going to be nurses, physical therapist assistants, radiology types, respiratory types. 

I dig the teacher.  He is INTO this Anatomy & Physiology and he seems to know his stuff.  I’d say he’s in his early to mid 50’s, with a hint of a New Jersey accent.  I like his lecture style.  

The Lab part of A & P….who knew microscopes were so intimidating and scary?  I mean, you have to be careful with this and that and I know I musta looked like Lucy Ricardo trying to figure that thing out.  I think I was the only person in the whole Lab who had never used a microscope before.  The only microscope I’ve ever messed with was one we got for Christmas circa 1976.  I don’t even think I messed with it at all.  I’m really pumped about getting to dissect a lamb’s brain and cow’s eyeball before the semester is out, if I can learn to focus the damn thing.

We swabbed our mouths for cells, put them on a slide and looked at them.  I was so intimidated by the saline solution, iodine and slide thingies I didn’t get a good sample but enough where I saw a few of my mouth cells up close and personal.  They were lovely.

This guy Jim that I used to go to church with and played volleyball with.  “Why don’t you come play with us?” Jim asked.  What I wanted to say was “Because I’m still limping from the time you fell on top of me trying to hit MY ball, ya big Doof. Jim is a big ol boy, about 6’4 and weighs near ‘250 or so.  I stopped playing volleyball because, silly me, I thought it would be fun and instead it was painful and people like Jim hit balls that I was fully capable of hitting.  I am a good volleyballist.  I just don’t believe in causing physical injury in the name of Jesus.

Back to Lab….NOW I know why that little character on the Muppets was called “Beaker.”  Those glass things that are kinda like scientific measuring cups are called beakers.  Oh hush.  While you were all studious, taking Chemistry in high school, I was out cruising around Williamson County listening to Emmylou Harris and Dwight Yoakam.  Then, when you went to college, I was busy hanging around the Station Inn hoping that cute bass player would notice me then I was married to him giving birth to his heirs and heiress. 

I’m going to give a new Anatomy and Physiology word to y’all every week.  The word of this week is “Epithelium.” Ponder and meditate on that a bit.

I bet Becky, the nice lady who sat next to me in Lab is probably going to move to the other side of the room next Tuesday so she doesn’t have to sit with me.  Poor thing.  She knew microscopes.  I bet she wanted to slap me. 

I Think I Can

I have not one inkling of nervousness or fear about beginning this whole school thing.  The only thing that scares me about starting college today is that, like so many other things in my life, I have a fear way down there that I’ll not complete it.  Poor follow-through one of those things that has tended to follow me through life.  I picture it like the toenail fungus monster on that commercial.  My mother says even when I was little I was like that.

My husband has been incredibly supportive of every wild idea I’ve ever had.  He’s never once said “I don’t think you can do that.”  I’ve told myself that A LOT with different things.  I want to do this and finish it, yes, for me, but, largely for the Old Man.  Not to prove anything to him because I have nothing to prove to him.  I do want it to make our lives better in every possible way.

It’s been about a year to the day since I lost my job and wondered what in the world I would do and who’da thunk I’d be trotting off to school with my backpack and everything a year later? I never dreamed such.

Wigged

Is anybody besides me just plain outta sorts today?  I have been the live-long day.  I guess it’s a combination of sinus infection/female issues and heat that’s getting to me. Plus, Mr. Smiff brought me into work today (tire issews) and as much as I dig hanging out with him, I like my drivetime into and home from work.  It messes me up when things like that are different.   It just makes the whole day outta kilter.

The Fair

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the section of The Tennessean online that has photo galleries.  They have some of the neatest photos on there.  I’ve found pictures before of my dad and other photos that are not amongst the highly circulated historical photos of Nashville.  It’s really great.  I can spend hours scanning through them.

Today, I was looking at the Gallery of photos of the Tennessee State Fair through the years and found this one…This is a girl named Dee Dee that I’ve known since I was a wee little tyke.  This picture was taken in 1967 and the funny thing is even if it hadn’t had her name on it, I’d have known her anywhere.  I haven’t seen her in several years, but, this picture is so stinkin’ cute, I had to post it.

I can remember in early elementary school, they still let school out for the fair.  I can remember my mom hauling my sister and me down there and the thing I remember most is looking through this big tank at something that was supposed to be an octopus.  I was expecting to see something like what I’d seen on cartoon (namely, Bozo).  I never made out no octopus.

The last time I went to the State Fair was in 1988 with The Boyfriend Who Impregnated Some Poor Other Girl.  I’d like to be all sentimental about the fair, but, I’m sorry….it gave me the creeps.  It was the crusty, old carnies hollering that made me realize my feelings would never be hurt if’n I never went to the State Fair again.  Those are some creepy fellers right there.

In my imagination, the Fair should be like it was in Pollyanna or that movie with Pat Boone.  Not scary people barking at ya.

Concerned

I go to a great church.  It’s by no means the biggest church around nor is it perfect.  Everybody that sets foot in there is flawed in some way but we all have the same goal…to deepen our walk with God. 

Something really cool and wonderful about having a church family is the “family” part.  I’ve been part of this church since 1994.  I started going here when the Manchild was 2 and the Holy Tara was 14 months old.  There are lots of people that I worship with that I just adore.

One of the first pairs of church ladies I remember keeping the HT in the nursery was Pat and her daughter Darlene.  I’ve been in Sunday School with both of these ladies for years and just love them both to pieces.  Both of these ladies work for the State, as I do.  Pat was a little concerned about where she thought I was working within the State at the beginning.  She was fearful I had walked smack dab into a stressful environment and the relief that came over her face when she realized where I was working was just the sweetest thing.  She had actually worried about that.  That’s what families do.

Tonight, I’m worried for Pat.  She is in the ICU battling a raging pneumonia.  She’s not improving and I’m so concerned for her and for her family. She is about the same age as my mother and Hazel.  I just can’t imagine the thought even of not sitting next to this fun lady every week in Sunday School who likes to know EVERYTHING.  Details, baby, details.  She’s a hoot. 

   Pat’s a great lady. If you are a praying person, say one for her.  

And This Is How It Goes…

Because we all need to hear “Supercalifragilistickexpealidocious” in Italian….Good to know some things like “Umdiddalidda-lidda-um-diddle-eye” is the same in any language. 

Let Sauerkraut Sprout

The Smiff’s lost power at the ol’ homestead last night. I had heard of others in the area losing power cause of all the heat and stuff, but, this was the first time it happened to us. At least it went off at 10:00 and only stayed off about an hour and a half. I fell asleep before it came back on.

While we were in darkness, me and #2 had some interesting conversations by candlelight.  (The Holy Tara was spending the night at a friend’s and the Manchild was at the Hendersonville/Station Camp football game, in which I hear was a really good game with SC winning).  I was telling #2 that he should try out for the chorus at school and the song they have to sing is pretty easy (My Country Tis Of Thee).  He didn’t seem to excited so I started to sing him another version of this patriotic classic that I learned from one Reagan Echols in about 1975.  (Good golly…Reagan would be in his 40’s now as he was older than I. Anybody know him or where he is? He’s Jerry Reed’s nephew)

It goes a little sumpin ‘lak this:

 My country’s tired of me, I’ll go to Germany

To see the Queen

Their food is sauerkraut, it makes your ears stick out

From every mountainside, let saurkraut sprout.

I never cease to be amazed at the silly things that will make #2 laugh like there is no tomorrow.  “Sing it again”….so there, by candlelight, I sang it again.  And again. Until he fell asleep.

Another thing that causes belly-aching laughter (Susan are you listening?) is when I squeeze my face together and say “My name’s Chubby…my mama’s chubby, my daddy’s chubby, e’en my dog’s chubby….My mama told me fat babies can’t smile but I’ll show her….”  Hee.  Susan was famous for that in middle school.  At our recent reunion, Rob Pomeroy didn’t know who I was speaking of when I said her name, but, then I reminded him of 8th grade Math in mean ol’ Mr. Smotherman’s class when Susan would do that.  He remembered.  HA!

Speaking of school, me and #2 went up to Vol State this morning to get my books.  I forgot it was “The President’s Picnic” and we hung around to see if we’d win the Nintendo system or Ipod.  We won neither.  I did find my classrooms and all that good stuff.  I’m pumped and ready to go.

They were out of used books so that means I got new ones.  To the tune of $361.33.  #2 asked if he could have them when I’m done.  Uh, no.  

Very cool Anatomy and Physiology book.  It has either Venus or Serena Williams on the cover and is packed full of neat stuff.  There’s a book that goes with it that’s “An Atlas to the Human Body” and it has photos of a cadaver’s body parts.  I was showing the boys (hee…they were ewwwing and ahhhing) the pictures (they searched out the ones of the crotch.  Shocker) and I opened up a picture of the uterus and ovaries  or maybe it was kidneys,   (remember, real pitchers) and #2 says “Oh look!  It’s cabbage!” 

This is going to be an interesting ride through the human body.  I can’t help but wonder what my 7th grade Science teacher, Bill Rucker, who has since passed on to that great classroom in the sky) who gave me D’s cause he liked me (kept me from repeating 7th grade), would say.  I giggled my way through Anatomy and here I am, 38 years old and going to try to learn it for real. He’d probably say in his ever-so-dry way “Dat’s beautiful, Miz Collie.”  That’s what he always would say to me when I’d interrupt with a long, babbling story about something that had nothing to do with what he was talking about.  He was one laid back man.

 Life is a trip, ain’t it?

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Why, yes, that’s Christmas music you hear coming from my cube.   Yes, it’s 95 degrees out and is supposed to get up to 102 by 5:00.  I’m just weird that way.

How Can You See With All That Light?

I have been re-watching this movie all week. It is one of the funniest movies, evah. Rosalind Russell was hysterical and the perfect Auntie Mame. 

I knew I recognized the grown up Patrick Dennis.  None other than Roger Smith who is married to Ann Margret.

Grandefille, I picture you as being like Auntie Mame.  No joke.  Everytime you leave a comment anywhere, I hear Rosalind as Mame in my head.