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A Little Reality is…Scary

A Little Reality is…Scary

I’m practicing with my new camera for my YouTube debut. I am so ignorant of everything I need to do for YouTube, but I’m learning. The editing software is a trip.

The first time I took a video of myself I was on the CardioStrider. I told myself I looked like hell because I was exercising strenuously. Hah! Honey chile, it didn’t get better. So, I went to various rooms. Then I used a special light. Then I used my phone.

Nope, still wasn’t better. I saw my grandmother in my face. Not my mother. My grandmother.

Okay, then. I assessed the situation. I am pale. Like a zombie pale. Who knew that the older you get the more washed out you become? Nature has decided that I need to look like a turkey, neck wise. That was a big shockoroo when it happened a few months ago. One day you’re fine. The next, wham! Gobble, gobble, Karen. My hair is thinning. I took a photo of the top of my head. Have you ever done that? Remember last September when I had the parathyroidectomy? Well, they told me that my hair would stop falling out and come back in within six months. It ain’t happening, baby. I almost have male pattern baldness. Rolling eyes.

I didn’t face any of this “stuff” (and you know I want to use another word SO BAD) a few years ago.

I started experimenting with makeup. I haven’t done that since I was a teenager. Honest. So I decided that maybe my makeup was too blah. I amped it up. I felt a little bit like a hooker, honestly. But I did the whole thing with the eyelashes – not fake, because I’ve never mastered those – more color on my face, more eye shadow. I bought a volumizer for my hair. I trimmed it in places.

Then I took another video.

This was marginally better. I guess I have to look like a hooker.  I ordered a bunch of new makeup from Amazon. It came yesterday. I sat at my vanity this morning primping like a teenager. I don’t mind looking my age. Oh, who am I kidding. I do mind looking my age. I want to look better than my age. And if I have to look like a hooker to do that, then howdy sailor, want a date?

Before I took Stanley to the groomer I washed it all off. 🙂

I forgot how sensitive my eyes are. I can’t wear liquid foundation. It makes my eyes water. I’m going to have to keep up with the mineral stuff. And no glaring shades of eyeshadow, either. The volumizer stuff worked great. A new hairstyle might be necessary, though. And, if you see me wearing an infinity scarf you know why (gobble, gobble).

No, Thank You.

No, Thank You.

Once upon a time people came to your door to sell you vacuum cleaners, encyclopedias, and oodles of kitchen gadgets. The Fuller Brush Company did a huge business selling all kinds of brushes and cleaning tools to housewives.

That was then. This is now.

Society has changed. People consider – okay, I consider – it an imposition for you to knock on my door. I don’t have a No Solicitation sign on the door only because it is unattractive, but if I wanted to buy your product I would. I don’t.

That means I hardly open the door to anyone I don’t know. The only exception was the other day because the guy was dressed like a city worker. Stanley wanted to eat him. I quickly figured out that he was wearing a hard hat and a yellow vest as a costume and that he wanted to sell me a water system. He was the one who left first because he couldn’t be heard over Stanley’s barking.

Good boy.

Last Sunday, twenty-one people were standing in front of my house as one of them approached my door, rang the doorbell, then banged on the screen. Just picture what Stanley did. She didn’t leave right away, either. I didn’t open the door. I find it extremely hard to be rude to people, even if they want me to follow Jesus in their way or admit that I’m going to hell because I don’t. So, it’s better if I don’t engage at all.

After about five minutes of Stanley hysterics the woman left, rejoining the group in front of my house. They moved on to the next neighbor.

I can’t help but wonder if people actually get converts this way. What happens if someone opens the door and invites one of them in? Do the rest follow? Is this really the best use of their time?

Maybe some poor soul who is confined to his house will find the visit a blessing. As far as Stanley and me – we didn’t.

Today’s the Day!

Today’s the Day!

It’s been eight weeks since I began the process of getting new dental implants. Last time, three weeks ago, I approved the final version of everything. They made sure it fastened to the original screws and the new screw. They measured. They gave me a mirror. Everything was cool.

Except…

Except that it had to go back to Florida to be finalized. It looked final to me. But, hey, what do I know?

The good thing about all these appointments is that Stanley got to go Doggy Day Care, find some four legged friends, and play.

Today I should get the final implant which means I don’t have to darken the dentist’s door for a very long time – I hope. As far as Stanley, he’ll still get to go back to Doggy Day Care periodically. Hey, you need to sniff derriere from time to time, right?

Let’s Keep Things in Perspective, Shall We?

Let’s Keep Things in Perspective, Shall We?

I woke up this morning in agony. I do not exaggerate. Opening my eyelids caused pain signals to be transmitted to my brain. If you’ve ever scratched your corneas, you know of which I speak.

I have chronic dry eyes. Yesterday, I screwed up twice. I didn’t drink enough water – which does affect my eyes – and I didn’t use my eye drops.

So, last night I grabbed the gel I use at bedtime for my eyes – to make up for all my other screwups during the day. Oops, forgot to use that, too. Ergo, the acute pain in my eyes this morning. It took two hours, hot compresses, three separate eye drop infusions, and 32 ounces of water until I felt like I wasn’t going to scream.

Getting out of bed was fun because I wrenched my knee two days ago and I’m still limping. Then the back.

So I’m sitting at my desk with an ice pack on my knee, one on my back, and in the dark since light still hurts my eyes.

However, it could be so much worse and for that I’m eternally grateful. I have two working legs and a lot of people don’t. I have the ability to walk which isn’t shared by everyone. My eyes work wonderfully well.

Now all I have to do is the maintenance to keep all these parts in good working order. Don’t do stupid dance moves with your dog and screw up your knee, Karen. Remember your back exercises, Ms. Ranney. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t forget your eyes!

Do you do stupid things like that, too?

Sciatica

Sciatica

I have sciatica that acts up about every ten days, especially if I exercise. I’ve been using the Cardio Strider for the past five years, but 60 – 90 minutes a day for the past four months. As certain as death and taxes here comes the sciatica.

I love this machine. It’s the only thing I’ve ever used that doesn’t stress my knees, but gives me a whole body workout.

However…I happened onto a video by two of my favorites the other day: Bob and Brad – physical therapists. I’d forgotten about some of the sciatica exercises I’d learned from my physical therapist. I started doing them the other day and voila! The pain was gone. I’m going to do them every day.

Hope this helps anyone suffering from sciatica. They have great videos about other stuff, too.

Maybe It’s Being a Writer

Maybe It’s Being a Writer

Stanley is not a happy camper.

Yesterday the A/C people were here from 8:00 until 12:20 PM. At 11:00 AM the next door neighbors had five pickup trucks lined up in front of our houses filled with roofers. Part of their roof was removed and replaced. Tat, tat, tat, automatic hammer and whirr, whirr, whirr went the compressor.

At 2:15 they must have shorted or otherwise traumatized the security system because the alarm went off from then until 37 minutes later. It was a damn loud alarm, too. The homeowner told me five years ago that she had it installed in the attic so all the neighbors could hear it.

We could.

I’m trying to revise a book and it’s difficult to work with all the barking, whirring, tat, tat, tatting, and sirens.

Let’s just say my output wasn’t all that great yesterday.

Stanley fell asleep beside me at 5:00 and didn’t budge until it was time for bed.

This morning, before I’d even had my coffee they were at it again. All five pickups. All the noises from yesterday, sans burglar alarm.

However, and this is why I titled this post the way I did: I’m invariably curious about stuff. I want to know weird things, like:

  1. Why are they tearing up the metal roof on their extension in the back? I kind of liked that metal roof. During a storm the rain made great sounds bouncing on it.
  2. Why did it take so long for them to turn off the alarm? Did they have to find the homeowner and get the code? I know, for a fact, that they no longer used the alarm because she came over to my house last year and asked if I’d seen the people who burglarized her house. (I hadn’t. When I’m working I’m working and my concentration is on the monitor.)
  3. Why are all five pickups black? None of them have a company logo on them, but it’s like they all got together and decided on the mafia look.
  4. While I’m speculating, what’s with the woman who comes every day, parks in front of my house and trots over to the other neighbors with an armful of notebooks? Is she a decorator? Why has she been coming every day for the past month? Does it take that long to decide on window treatments?

Yes, I have a Rear Window kind of life. It’s the front window, though. 🙂

Are you curious about your neighbors, too?