Mother’s Day

Hello, Readers! I have not posted in a very long time. Partly, because I have had writer’s block; partly, because my laptop keeps breaking; and mostly, because my emotions have been so raw that I didn’t want to see them in print. However, today is a great day. Today is Mother’s Day! Despite the rain and dampness, which doesn’t do my body any good, I am in a good mood. My mom went to church this morning, but left me a Mother’s Day card. She has done this for at least the past 15 years, despite the fact that I have never had a child. This one was a picture of Golden Retriever dog with a bunch of cute puppies on the cover. The inside was a list of so many pets and kids that I have nurtured and cared for, and she wrote that I am a “Mommy.” My first instinct would be to argue, disparaging myself. But, then I remembered how I spent last night in the basement, comforting our Buckeye, who is terrified of storms. I also got a visit from a Husky puppy,  he licked my face and cuddled with me, then curled up next to me, the three of us spooning while I tried to find a comfortable position on a very firm mattress.

I remember when I worked on a Mother’s Day while living in CA. My manager was asking a woman why she was shopping, instead of spending time with her mom. She wouldn’t stop asking her, until the woman told her that her mother had just passed away. I still remember it, because I couldn’t spend time with my mom that day, because she was in Kalamazoo.  I wanted to, believe me. I missed my mom very much.

“My mom has always been there for me;’ such a cliché. In my case, I did have that mom. She was my Brownie, Girl Scout, Youth Group(s), bowling, etc. leader.  When I was in band at Comstock High School, an entire section of the band would yell, “Hey, Mom!” when she walked by our section of the bleachers. She hosted every slumber party, drove me to school on the countless times I missed the bus (a frequent occurrence when she would be back in bed already) and would be the one to bring snacks at a moment’s notice, or whip up a batch of cookies when I forgot it was someone’s birthday in class. She has a unique way of making everyone smile, and her sunny personality is so infectious! I don’t know how she knows about everyone’s lives, even if she hasn’t seen them in a decade, but she can tell me their life history at the drop of a hat. She also makes a great tour guide; because, whenever you are in the car with her, she cannot help pointing out peoples’ homes and businesses when she passes by, even if you don’t know who it is she knows! lol She seems to know everyone.

One of my favorite ‘Mary Moments’ is when I lived in CA. I lived there about 4 years, in total. Never saw anyone I knew. She comes out to visit on Thanksgiving Day. I take her to Santa Cruz boardwalk, and the first person she sees, she knows. Shocker. She and I can be our own comedy team, especially in the car. She will make an absurd comment, and I will over exaggerate the sarcasm, until we go back and forth and start laughing at ourselves. I feel so blessed to be her daughter, but she can be really hard to follow! lol She goes off on these random tangents in her mind; and then start talking about a totally odd subject out loud. I look at her like, ‘what the heck are you talking about?’ I tell her that her thoughts must be really loud!

A prime example is when we were in the car together, riding in silence. She says, “I just don’t think I want to be a police officer any more these days.” Huh? (Luckily, I had noticed a police car on a side street that was giving someone a citation.) I looked at her and said, “Do you realize what you just said? ” Of course, she thought she had said something sane and logical. We went back and forth, because she was so sure she was making sense. After ten minutes of this, she finally huffed in frustration, saying, “Why can’t you hear what I just meant?!?!” This is now our code for any similar conversations now, and so fun to recall!

I have seen my mom do so many wonderful things for so many people. We have had our special times, and made wonderful memories! We went to 42 states before I graduated high school, and most of them were because she would get ‘cabin fever,’ pack my brother and sister and I in the van without waking us, still in our ‘footsie pajamas,’ and we would wake up to eat at Big Boy-in Kentucky. It has happened so many times, and we have had so many stories.

Today, my brother organized a Mother’s Day meal at our cousins’ restaurant, Theo & Stacy’s. We were able to see Stacy and Phyllis, which was wonderful. Although they were busy, they were able to serve all of us with ease and a friendly smile, as always. I was so happy to see my family, and our extended family, as well. It is no secret that family is so extremely important to me, and these times really make my life happier. I was able to explain how we were all related to my younger family members.

I really hope that other people get to experience the kind of family like I have; and truly love and enjoy their family, especially their mothers. My mom is definitely unique, but that makes her one of a kind! Happy Mothers Day!

My Mary Moments; or, where to go from here…

Hello, readers!

I am sorry I have not posted in a long time. My laptop crashed, because I somehow checked a box saying hidden pictures. I thought it meant to uncover pictures I could not see. It actually made my pictures disappear! My whole system crashed, including all the work I Ihave been doing for months. I was desperately trying not to freak out, and the R-Tech Guys saved the day for me yet again! They recovered all of my files and put them on flash drives for me! Woo hoo! The bad part is, I forgot that they told me not to put them back onto my laptop, which I did. I have 33,750 pictures to sort and eliminate all the duplicates, triplicates, and whatever words there are for the multiple copies I have for the same pictures. (Don’t get me started on my music files. )

I should have mentioned earlier that part of the reason that I have been making copies of pictures is that I have been going to The Hub, which is the media center at the main branch of the Kalamazoo Public Library. Ryan, the intern/computer guru/helper of the helpless and lost, has been guiding me ever so patiently, while I have been not only scanning my own photo albums, but have been scanning photos, slides, negatives, scrapbooks, wedding albums; and converting VHS to DVD and digitizing materials from my family records. By the time I am done at each ‘session’ at The Hub, I have ‘jelly arms,’ because I am in so much pain that I can only move my arms from the elbows to my fingers. My neck, back, and shoulders are so locked up that I have to come home and lie on ice packs and take special medication and cry. I hope it is worth it! I feel it is, and that others feel the same.

I have become our family historian and documentarian. My cousin, Angela, just got married over the weekend, and I am so excited for both she and her husband, James! I spent countless hours, scanning everything on the Greek side I could find, digging deep into our family records, matching photos and documents with the Ancestry family tree I have been working on for over two years. I put together, with my parents’ help, a huge binder that will help Angela and her husband to expand their own family tree and to use it to further their own knowledge of their family history. I put every record, photo, etc I could find onto a flash drive, and let them take it from there. Hopefully, they will use it and it will assist them on their quest.

My Dutch side, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, has been very interesting. My mom recently gave me my Grannie Annie (her mom, Anna Mae Kuiper Griffioen Santee) scrapbook, wedding album, etc. and her father, John Griffioen’s, military album, which he hand made out of wood and rawhide. I was able to recreate it, scan it, and share it with family. It took me two whole days to cut the paper, put photo squares, match the proper photos, punch holes, reinforce, and figure out how he strung the rawhide ties to re wrap the entire album, as it had disintegrated. When I had finally finished, I swear I heard him whisper, “atta girl,” to me, with a pat on my shoulder. I hope I made him proud.

I had a lot of Mary Moments lately, but this one was really odd.

I went to get groceries and I was so hot and tired, so I got undressed and I stretched out on my bed with my legs up on my pillows. I forgot to close my curtains to my sliding glass door, and to my bedroom door; but knew I was home alone, and the dogs would bark if anyone came over.
So, I closed my eyes to rest.
I felt a disturbance in the force, and looked out my sliding glass door to see a stranger. An elderly woman was on our deck, trying to step over our waist high fence. She had a bowl in her hands. At first, I thought she was with my mom, looking at her garden. I jumped up, grabbed a robe, and opened my sliding glass door.
She came back to the fence, tried to open it from a closed section, despite it being next to the door; and I told her to go to the front door, the orange one. I went to the front, and I
found her wandering in the front yard.
She had a small bowl of blackberries for us. I did not recognize her; and strangely enough, the dogs never barked before I opened the door.  She didn’t make any intelligible sentences; but, from what I gathered, she was giving me these berries.  I said thank you very graciously, asked her if she wanted her bowl, and she kind of shrugged and wandered off through the front yard. I watched from our kitchen window. She vanished-
no car, nothing. So, I thought, ‘either she is a neighbor, or one of those angels in the Bible that check to see if I would be nice to them!’ hmmm.

Another Mary Moment I had was at the wedding. I was the last one to leave the chapel, next to a man in a suit. I asked if I could take his arm, thinking he was an usher or groomsman. He was very gracious and agreed. I explained that I had horrible balance, and didn’t want to fall into the little pool next to us. He said that his boys would be most likely playing in that little pool! I laughed and said I have nephews like that. We stood in silence, waiting for the line to move. Then, he politely excused himself to check on his boys. It was then that I realized that he was not an usher, he was a guest at the wedding! Oh, boy.

I am planning on focusing my blog more on one topic, maybe two. I am thinking more on my Mary Moments and my Fibromyalgia. More specifically, what it is like to live with chronic pain and how to not only survive, but keep a positive outlook. I would really like some ideas and feedback as to what would be most helpful! Please comment below, because I tend to get all over the place with random thoughts and ideas!

 

The Aftermath

Hello, readers.
Today was my first day out of the house since Friday. My body is healing from my surgical procedure, but my heart is crushed. I was able to drive around town for a while today, visiting familiar places. Everything seemed normal, yet strange. It was the same as the feeling I had right after 9/11. Everything looked the same, but felt so different. Cars passed by, people went to their jobs, kids went to school, and the unseasonably sunny day made this weekend’s tragedy seem unreal.
On Saturday, a man took our town’s peaceful atmosphere and turned it into chaos and tears. There is an aura so still, so hushed and somber. No one that I spoke with said a word of what happened, but we all felt it. It was as though no one wanted to address the enormous elephant in the room. Everyone did their routine daily chores, went about their business, but something was wrong, terribly wrong. It is only when I turn on the news, and hear the all too familiar words, ‘there has been a mass shooting….’ and see the familiar scenes that should not be on the television. Scenes from my favorite comfort food restaurant. Places, businesses, and shops I have been to so many times. These images should not be behind the news anchor’s shoulder. That should not be my town in the background. Those horrible words should not be matched with those happy places that I have so enjoyed. While I was driving, I was searching for signs, words that would be plastered on a billboard or neighborhood yard, “the news was false, it was a mistake, it didn’t happen here.” I couldn’t bear to drive past the areas where the shootings occurred; I am extremely sensitive, and I can’t watch the news or anything violent or scary. Since this has happened, I have watched the news, my stomach churning, unable to look away. My mind fills with scenes of the horror that my poor neighbors endured, and I want to wretch; knuckles white, clenching the arm rests of my favorite chair. Turning off the TV, but not being able to turn off those horrific images, is nothing compared to what others in my hometown have had to face. My mind cannot grasp what they have seen and heard. One of the things that stands out is that everyone in law enforcement and court have not seen any emotion, and no remorse, from the suspect. Honestly, it is not surprising to me. He clearly thought of what the consequences may be, and chose to act anyway. Something very wrong must be going on in this individual’s mind to think that it is acceptable to shoot and kill totally innocent people.
Why do horrible things like this happen to good people? And, what about the suspect’s family? How must they feel? The suspect’s child was in my aunt’s grade school class a couple of years ago. How do you explain to his children what their daddy did? How do you go on, as his wife, knowing what he has done, and that you have shared your life with someone that is not only capable of, but actually did this, with no apparent motive? My heart aches for his family. His parents, friends, co workers, everyone in his life. How do they face other people? My heart breaks for them, as well. They didn’t do this, and they have to deal with this for the rest of their lives. This is their community, as well. I wish I could give them a hug, hold their hands, and tell them as I look into their eyes that it isn’t their fault. They didn’t do this, they had no way to know or to stop it. As for the victims, my heart aches, my eyes well with tears, and my throat gets thick with emotion. They wonder, as do the rest of us, ‘why?’ but there is no answer sufficient enough to silence the questions, ease the ache, soothe the hurt, and wipe the foreheads. How does a family deal with the loss of not just one, but two members of their family, taken away in such a violent and sudden act of terror? There is no way to tell our children, “It’s safe, you can go on and play in the yard, hang out with your friends on the playground.” The awful truth is, it doesn’t feel safe. There is no way to avoid looking over one’s shoulder, being a little more on edge, and listening for the sound of gunfire. When Columbine, Sandy Hook, San Bernadino, and the other attacks happened, we grieved with them, but went on with our routines. Now, it is all too real for us. No one on TV tells us what to do from here. How do we feel safe, relax our tense shoulders, stop jumping at loud noises, quit looking over our shoulders?
Kalamazoo has a way of making people want to raise our children here, to slow down a bit and enjoy watching them grow, taking the extra few minutes to chat with each other as we rake the yard, wave to each other as we get our mail from the mailbox; watch each other’s homes when we are away for a few days. When one of us is sick, there is a family bringing a hot meal, a neighbor plowing a snowy driveway, a school classmate bringing over a dish to pass as we watch the game on TV together. Our church families are an extension of our biological families, and we have small groups that overlap with our sports teams and work friends. Even our ‘Snowbirds’ that go to Florida for the winter seem to gather in the same towns down there! Just last month, I stopped into a local bakery, and sat down to chat with some men that gather to drink coffee and catch up with each other. It took just the mention of my mom’s maiden name to find out that we all knew one another through someone we knew, and I was related to two of the six men through a cousin. That is the way that Kalamazoo is; interconnected with one another. Somehow, we are not ‘six degrees of separation;’ we are one family member away from someone that went to school with our grandfather, or the neighbor that just so happened to play softball with an uncle. I worked at Russ’ restaurant for years, and my grandmother, Grannie Annie, would come in and introduce me to someone I hadn’t met, saying “this is my cousin so-and-so,” while I nod and smile, and just giggle inside. Grannie Annie, bless her heart, had a way of knowing everyone; and my mom carries on her legacy. Wherever we go, she is like a travel guide, saying “When I was growing up, so and so lived here; this is where we played Tin Pan Alley…this used to be a drive in, but now it is a pizza place, my best friend and I hung out here…” I found myself doing that today. I guess I was saying it aloud, to remind myself that this is still my hometown, and that the actions of one person do not define, nor do they destroy, all that we are in Kalamazoo. No one action represents for a whole city. No one person can take away what others build up; and it will not diminish the love and generosity of a whole community. My grandfather, Gus Skartsiaris, came here from a tiny village in Greece, and he opened his own restaurant. He and my grandmother, Mary Helen, worked for decades in this area, and they are the most generous people I have ever met. I miss them dearly, and I am so proud and humbled to be named for both of my grandmothers; and to look like him so much that people stop me on the street, asking, “are you Gus’ daughter?” He would be heartbroken over this, but would not show me those tears. He would come up behind me as I sat in their restaurant, cup my chin with his hand, patting me, and tell me in his thick accent, “Don’t be bashful, not to worry.” I share that with you, so you may draw comfort, knowing that we are still Kalamazoo strong, and we are a community that truly cares.

A Gal From Kalamazoo

Hello, readers. My heart is very heavy today. Over the weekend, a man went on a random killing spree, taking six lives, wounding two others gravely, and devastating my beloved hometown. I found out the next morning, and spent yesterday in shock and pain. I had a surgical procedure done on Friday, and I am still recovering. Stress makes my condition worse, so I had to stay as calm as possible, while trying to wrap my brain around this senseless act of violence against totally innocent people. The first shooting occurred one street away from my home; the second, at the car dealership at which a family member works; and the third, at my favorite restaurant, where my parents were supposed to be at the time of the shootings. The man responsible for this went to my school and graduated a year behind me; and, while I didn’t know him personally, it is a shock. I truly wish this was not the subject of my blog.
My hometown is very precious to me, for many reasons. My family owns businesses in the area, and I am related to many people here. My roots go deeply in the ground of Kalamazoo, and I always joke that I can’t make any mischief (not that I would!) in this town, because too many people know me, or are related to me! lol I am Greek, Dutch, French, Irish, and German. I have a large extended family that is so very precious to me, and I have loved my years here. I lived in California for several years, and I really missed the feel of my hometown. I had so many moments where I would hear a voice that sounded familiar, only to realize that they were strangers. My mom seems to know someone wherever we go, and we run into people we know on a daily basis. My family owns Greek restaurants in town, and my grandparents owned several restaurants as I was growing up. My parents owned, and still work, at a well respected plumbing business; my uncle runs the commissary for Western Michigan University, and my Dutch relatives lives all over Portage (a smaller town within Kalamazoo county.) They helped settle Portage, as celery growers.
We have many nicknames for our town. Kzoo, The Zoo, The Celery City, The Mall City (we had the first pedestrian mall downtown), The Paper City (Parchment), and the song, “I’ve Got A Gal In Kalamazoo,” was a huge hit for many Big Band groups (Glenn Miller’s version is my personal favorite). Even though Kalamazoo County is large by Michigan standards, Kalamazoo has the feel of a small town. We have several colleges in town, a very diverse cultural scene, and we celebrate our heritage in many ways. Our buildings reflect the old and the new. Our town has hailed many celebrities, and produced some fine citizens that have gone on to be well known. The Kalamazoo Promise is a unique program, offering free college tuitions. Here is a fact about Michigan:
” The state has 11,037 inland lakes and 38,575 square miles (99,909 km2) of Great Lakes waters and rivers in addition to 1,305 square miles (3,380 km2) of inland water. No point in Michigan is more than 6 miles (9.7 km) from an inland lake or more than 85 miles (137 km) from one of the Great Lakes.”
We have wonderful restaurants, shops, parks, libraries, museums, etc; and we are located halfway between Chicago and Detroit, making us a great stop for travelers. There are many festivals, parades, and celebrations throughout the year; but Greek Fest is my favorite. My cousins host the event, and there is wonderful authentic food, dancing, music, and crafts.
Having said all of this, to know that our town is known for a mass shooting is horrifying. I know that everyone says, ‘not in our town,’ but it rings true for me. No one seems to know what to do, what to think, how to react. We are frozen in grief and shock. How? Why? What the heck happened? I know our hearts are heavy, and we are numb with sorrow and shock. I have always had so much respect for our first responders, fire, police, medical, etc; and especially now, as they are working to heal the wounded survivors, track the course of the nightmare of Saturday night, and dealing with the aftermath. From what I have gathered, it could have been so much worse, and I thank God that the police caught the suspect before more lives were lost. I pray for all involved, and our town. We are grieving, hurting, and confused.
What is also difficult is all of the misinformation, speculation, and conspiracy theories already spreading like wildfire. I hope that the sensible people of the world will understand and be patient as we work out the truth, and pray with us for healing. Thank you for your prayers, and may God watch over our town. Amen. #PrayforKalamazoo; #Kalamazoostrong

Overture

Good afternoon, readers! Welcome to my first blog! I have never written anything like this before, though I have long wanted to do so. Ever since I was in grade school, I have been urged to be a writer. In later years, I was urged to write a book about my life. I have also been encouraged to write about my relationships, my illness, and my experiences in over two decades of retail and customer service. I haven’t decided on what topic in which to focus, so I think I will just add subjects as they arise.
I would like to introduce myself. I am 45 years old, single, and living with my parents and family. I am disabled, and waiting for my second appeal for disability. My interests are varied, but I am well known for being “Susie Homemaker,” cooking and cleaning, etc. “Monica,” for my obsessive cleaning and organizing; “Toula,” for my resemblance to the main character in “My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding,” “Titanic Freak,” for my fascination with all things Titanic related; and my favorite,” Aunt Mennie,” a nickname given to me by a family member.
Because I love to tell stories, I will share some here. My sister likes to say,’you pick up a spoon, she will tell you a story'(about it); so true. lol As I reflect, I seem to have ‘stories’ for many things; from a crazy dream I had, to an incident in retail. Some, I have already shared on Facebook, so I am going to begin by sharing them here. I call my embarrassing, humiliating, or otherwise odd experiences “Mary Moments,” because I seem to be the only one to have these occurances! I have long said that “any potential character flaws are a part of my charm and ‘adorability,” so here goes:

Mary Moment #1: I was half asleep, and I kept hearing a bug by my head. My then boyfriend said not to worry about it, but I cannot sleep with bugs anywhere near me! I don’t like bugs, I don’t want them in my house, and I really don’t want them around me when I sleep! I turned on the light, and saw a ladybug. My then boyfriend told me to go to sleep and let it go. I shut the light off, after several attempts to kill it, to no avail. Ten minutes later, my then boyfriend got smacked in the head with all my blankets and pillows. I had never freaked so fast in bed before. The ladybug was 2 inches from my hoo-hoo. He vowed to never doubt my judgement again.
#2 When I was very young, my grandparents owned The Parkview Inn restaurant in Richland, MI. My grandfather, Papa Gus, would let me help myself to his candy counter, and let me take as much as I want without having to pay. My mom would take me to the grocery store; and, when we got to the car, she would frequently find a candy bar or Tootsie Roll in my hand that was not part of her purchase! I thought all stores ran the same way! lol
#3 I was shopping at an upscale clothing store, and went to pay for my items. I was standing at a tall counter, trying to get my wallet out of my purse. It was wedged, so I yanked, spilling two tampons out of my purse. They went flying in opposite directions, landing at opposite ends of the staff’s side of the counter. I was forced to ask the staff to hand them back to me. I was 16.
#4. I have been friends on Facebook with a childhood friend of my brother for over a year, sharing laughs, etc. Just realized it was a different person with the same name. wow.

#5. My family was at a restaurant, and my sister said that my mom’s cousin was at a nearby table. I walked up to the table from behind her shoulder, and said, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you! Good to see you! ” Then I realized, it wasn’t my mom’s cousin. oops. I walked away, not saying anything else. I decided to let her wonder where she knew me! lol

#6. I was talking to a customer while I was chewing gum. A big no-no, but the store was so dry, I couldn’t swallow, and it was a slow night. One of my regular customers came in; and while we were talking, my gum shot out of my mouth, arced in midair, and landed about 3″ from her foot. Um….

#7. I was working at Bath & Body Works, showing off our newest product, a brush with shimmery powder that comes out through the brush by pushing the button on the end. A gay couple came in, and the other co-workers were busy. I walked up to them, and was demonstrating the shimmer wand. I said, “It’s Fairy Dust!” for the first and only time. Then, I corrected myself-“No pun intended!” Then, I blushed furiously, realizing that I heaped insult upon injury….no way to back out. Luckily, he laughed. Lawsuit avoided.

#8. I was with my family, walking down a fairway at a rodeo/county fair, after visiting the restroom. I walked all the way down the main fairway, with thousands in attendance, before my mom came up behind me, and grabbed something near my waistband. She whispered, ‘do you still need this?’ while showing me what was crumpled in her hand. It was a huge, white maxi pad. I was wearing bright turquoise shorts and a cropped top, and it had been sticking out of my shorts for the entire walkway. And I was 15.

#9. I was about 8, and with my family at Great America, at one of the animal shows. We were sitting in an outdoor theater on bench seats, and I was jostled about as we were leaving. I grabbed my uncle Ron’s hand, and kept moving, getting a bit claustrophobic. It wasn’t until we had gone a few steps, before I realized that it wasn’t my uncle Ron! My whole family was behind me, laughing.

#11. My family was in North Dakota at the Badlands. A strong gust of wind came up out of nowhere, and we all headed back to our RV. By the time I stopped taking pictures and realized I was alone, the wind was so strong that I was shielding my face with my arm, bent over at the waist, struggling to get back to the RV. I finally made it, when the door flew open. I was so relieved to get back, until an elderly man said, “Can I help you, honey?” I went to the wrong RV. In front of my whole family. The same ones as #9. yep. joy.

#12. While I was working the cash register at Coldwater Creek, and we had long lines at all four registers. I was busy ringing up a sale, and I heard a customer say,” I LOVE your hair, it is gorgeous!” I grinned, while looking down at the clothing, and went on and on about how it is so heavy and it keeps me warm in the winter, but hard to deal at times. I get ‘Steamy Head,” when my hair is damp and I get a hot flash. You can actually see steam rise from my scalp. After a couple of minutes, I looked up and realized that it wasn’t MY customer that said that, it was the woman being rung up by the co worker next to me-she was talking to her! lol

#13. Unlucky #13. hmm….what to say… This one is my worst. When Theo Skartsiaris passed away, I was so upset and nervous. I didn’t know what to say to Betty or Joanna, my cousins that I rarely saw. My whole family was also nervous, because we didn’t want to call them by each other’s names, which happens a lot to my sister and I. Because I saw them more often than the rest of my family, I told them that, when we walked into the funeral home, I would loudly say the name of the first one we saw. My cousin walked up, looking so bereft and heartbroken. I was so nervous, and felt so horrible for the pain she was experiencing. I went, “Oh, Joanna!” and she hugged me, and said:”Betty.” I called Betty by Joanna’s name. Mortifying.

#14. I was in a talent show in elementary school, and my family thought it would be a good idea for me to do a traditional Greek dance. I had a costume, etc. No matching shoes, so someone thought to take the shoes off of the display at the Parkview Inn in Richland, which was owned by my grandparents. They were men’s size gigantic, and I was about 3’6″. One shoe went flying across the stage, and the other ended up near the audience. True story. I am including a picture for that one.

#15. I was getting a ‘mammyogram,’ as my Grannie Annie used to call it, and the power went out while I was being squeezed in the vise grip that is the machine. I was stuck for several minutes, compressed. I never want to hear any man on Earth complain about having to ‘turn their head and cough.” Ever. The best part is, when you get this test, the technician puts little metal stickers on your nipples for markers on the X ray. I was driving down US 131, when I realized that I hadn’t removed them. I panicked, thinking, “What if I get into a car accident with these things on my nipples!?!?” So, I reached into my bra, and started to pull. They stick like Band-aids. As I was frantically pulling on these stickers, I heard a commotion. I didn’t realize that the semi truck driver next to me could see everything, until he started cat calling and honking the horn. joy.

#16. While I was at my psychiatrist’s office, I reached into my bag to get my datebook, and I accidentally pulled out a tangled bra and pair of panties that fell onto the coffee table. I had changed earlier, and forgot to take them out of my bag. yep.

#17. This deserves to be grouped by one number, because it happened too often to track. Wearing two different color shoes, socks, etc. My shirt was inside out, my zipper on my fly was open while walking down a busy mall, and all the bad haircuts I have endured should have their own blog!

#18. I ordered a camera battery for my mom from ebay. Instead of the battery, I received a bottle of Black extreme testosterone pills. um…not the kind of energy I was looking for! lol

#19. I was making no bean chili nachos for lunch, and I went to pet the dog. I didn’t realize I had a bit on my fingertips, until last night. He was sleeping on the floor in the living room. We were watching TV, and noticed a putrid funky smell. He had farted, and lifted his leg in his sleep. He actually woke up and looked around to discover the smell after a few more seconds, not realizing it came from him! lol
#20 I didn’t sleep at all last night, mainly wondering if the hotel from, ” The Shining,” the Bates Motel, and Hotel California are all owned by the same hotel chain ….
I think I will end here for now. See you soon, and I welcome your comments!