Meme Time, Meme Place

Totally hijacked this from Olivia, but she said it's okay. :-)

Marriages – 0

Proposals – 0
Divorces – 0
Surgeries – 0
Tattoos – 0  (for now)
Piercings – 3

Ever:

   Shot a gun – BB only. Quite probably for the best, even if it did leave me odd one out in my family (and meant that brother got both Dad and Mom’s shotguns.)
   Quit a job – shi’chyeah
   Been on TV – a couple of times - background appearances only
   Fallen in love – 2.5 times
   Driven cross country – No. That’s a bucket list item. (After, “win lottery” so I can afford to take that kind of time…)
   Hit a deer – Yep. He mangled my front frame, stared uncomprehendingly at me through the window and then limped into the woods. (The guy who pulled over behind me pulled out his gun and went after him while I sat in my car and twitched in shock.)
   Watched a birth – No… and I’m okay with that
   Ridden in an ambulance – Surprisingly, not yet
   Sung karaoke – No singing - but I rock as back up go-go dancer
   Ice skated – Unfailingly, multiple times each winter, until the unfortunate skull fracture incident
   Been surfing – body only
   Seen the ocean – kinda hard to miss around here, so, yes
   Ridden a horse - No. Elephant, yes - horse, no.
   Almost died – No. Altho’ every medically-informed person in my life demands to know if I realize how lucky I was with the whole skull fracture/concussion thing.
   Been punched – By a guy, no. Another female, yes. (ah, high school!)
   Punched back – Heck yeah 

Are you:

   In love now – pffffffft! *waves hand dismissively*

NEXT QUESTION!

(oh, we’re done…)

Banned Books Week 2017

Celebrate your freedom-

Get out there and READ!

(You know Spock would)

An Evening With Thelma and Louise

We’d taken a ferry out to the island for a lively day of sun and fun. (With a lot of wind and rain thrown in on the trip home.) Discussing our plans for the evening (as we huddled in our jackets against the damp,) Thelma said, “50 Shades of Grey is playing on TV - I think it would be really interesting to watch that with you.” (Translation: “I intend to pepper you with questions.”)

Now, there are plenty of people in my life from whom that would be an uncomfortable suggestion. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m from New England - we don’t really talk about things sexual. But this is Thelma, who once coaxed me into posing come-hitherishly in slinky lingerie while she snapped pictures, and then marched me and the negatives into one of those places that personalizes things like, oh, say, pillows (picking a random domestic item out of the hat *ahem*) by printing them with your pictures. She and the man behind the counter then had a fine old time discussing the likely success of this gift for my boyfriend - while I stood there, trying to un-swallow my tongue…

So, I wasn’t really that worried about the upcoming interrogation. I did, however, have to think twice about watching 50 Shades. Thelma the vanilla has read the book, Jz the erstwhile submissive has not. I never felt up to facing the abyssmal writing and I already had my own hot, kinky lovelife… so why bring bad prose into the picture?

I was kind of curious about the movie however, so I gave in gracefully.

Dinner was had and then, by mutual agreement, we postponed our dessert until movie time. The rain continued to patter down outside as the wind slapped branches against the windows, so we decided that jammies and snuggly robes were in order for the big viewing experience. This, in turn, led to Thelma suggesting that we do a little “spa night” thing - an idea I jumped on. I may not be a big makeup fan but lotions and scrubs and bubbles sing a siren song to my inner girly-girl every time. 

So we washed, we exfoliated, we masqued, we moisturized, we took selfies (*eyeroll*)…

        and then we grabbed our treats and pulled up our chairs for movie time.

Two women “of a certain age” in fluffy robes, with hair pulled back and heavy goop on their faces, eating hot fudge sundaes while watching a naughty movie. It was completely ridiculous - and more fun than I’ve had in ages.

Particularly since Thelma kept yelling, “Wait!” and hitting the pause button to ask for clarification of the events onscreen. I’d answer, she’d process the information (her face during the explanation of “fisting” was absolutely priceless) then she’d either say “OK” and hit resume, or she'd pull the afghan up over her head and squeal for a moment. (And then emerge going, “All right - I don’t get that one but whatever…”)

             Dear Thelma,

                    I’ve missed you.

                         I’m glad we’re back.

                                           Love, Louise

Spock Has My Back

In my mind...

Spock comes along behind me during Hell Month and says what I can't.

It's surprisingly soothing.

The Ides of Hell Month

Long-time readers may recall that this is the time of year I fondly call Hell Month.

Stupefyingly busy, we are all run ragged, chasing our own tails until we end up very nearly beside ourselves - and after a while, the strain starts to show.

We had scheduled a meeting of three. Two of us arrived early and I was getting an earful of core-dump from the other as we waited. Our tardy compatriot, fresh from a different meeting, stuck her head around the door: “I just need to run to the bathroom before I grab the equipment - be right back.”

I nodded, the other person so absorbed in her tale of woe, she didn’t hear the words. 

A few minutes later…

“Did I just hear Pat?”

“Yes - she’s stopping at the bathroom first, then she’ll join us.”

“Oh, ok” 

…and the recital continued with barely a hitch.

A few more minutes later…

“She’s taking an awfully long time - Maybe I should go help her."

  (*hopping up from the table to head to the door*)

"Which room did you say she was going to be in?”

I stared at her retreating back, refusing to answer until she turned to look at me.

Her expectant gaze met my incredulous one.

“The BATH-room”

“Oh… Nevermind.”

Two more weeks, sweet Jesus, just two more weeks…

"Because I Like It" Wednesday

No explanation needed.

It's New York Fashion Week

        ... and Spock is ready.

Are you?

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Join ‘Em

I’ve told you about the neighbor who trims his hedge with nail scissors…

I thought I’d told you about the guy next to him, who hoes the sidewalk (*clink! clink!*) but I can’t find that, so maybe that was just an email to someone… but he does that, I swear.

The person to the far end of them all has been known to weed-whack dirt. (Huge, choking clouds of it, in fact.)

Their lawn care techniques have provided me with many a chuckle over the years, I tell you.

Then yesterday, as I chased down paint chips during a post-scraping cleaning frenzy, I found myself extending the shop vac over the edge of the porch, right onto the grass. 

Yes, I vacuumed my lawn. 

        Publicly. 

In full awareness of the total absurdity of it all..., 

        But it was working, by god, so I stiffened my resolve and kept going.

I can only hope my neighbors found me half as amusing as I have found them...

Crap.

Missed a few...

Closure?

I think I’m finally healing back up again - which is both good and bad.

On the positive side, the fact that I’m no longer going through life with my innards spilling out is good. For one thing, nobody needs to see that, plus I was getting tired of landing on my face after getting tangled up in my own trailing viscera…

On the other hand, being closed off definitely doesn’t enhance my personality.

One of the things I liked very much about my relationship with BG was that I liked myself better when we were together. BG centered me, which calmed me. It was more of a side effect, but it was a good one. (The kind the commercial announcer proclaims clearly and distinctly, rather than one that’s rushed through at the end in hopes you won’t notice the words, “incontinence”, “stroke”, or “death”.)

Because a calmer Jz is more open and accepting of people. She doesn’t frazzle as easily, making her less likely to flare up and run off at the mouth. (I know, this is a hard scenario to imagine…) She finds it easier to be genuinely interested in people, rather than wanting to strangle those who drone on and on about minutiae. (You know, like progeny, pets…, anything truly meaningful to them…) She can even smile indulgently at the folly of those she assists with computers, rather than rewarding their befuddlement with her best “Resting Bitch Face” expression. (Thank you, Bookman!)

Yep… I’m not all that fond of this here reversion I seem to be going through. Let’s just hope that eight years of centered calm resulted in enough synaptic re-routing that my new norm stops somewhat short of its former level and leaves me with at least a modicum of tolerance.

Otherwise, I’m going to have to call myself part-Vulcan and claim biological imperative...