Back to the Future

It isn't a very good day here for women. I just saw this story on the news. I thought this type of mysogenistic bullshit ended in the late 70's, early 80's. I was dead wrong. There are still men who think women should look like barbie before they dare open their mouths to  [gasp] speak. I feel very downhearted tonight. And I hope this dear old senator retires. He obviously is having a problem tracking. Todays date is July 3, 2012. Not July 3, 1960.

http://www.myfoxny.com/story/18944236/ny-lawmaker-holds-event-on-feminine-presence

Karma [you can do something about it]

This morning I went grocery shopping.

You might not think that is blogworthy, unless you live where I do.

Today [Tuesday] is the Community Day for the 4th of July, complete with fireworks this evening.

We abut the town park. Where all parades start and end, and where Community Days are held.

This means that the police block off the entrances to my development. Literally, with sawhorses.

Very nice.

Depending on the attitude of the cops on duty, you are smiled at and waived thru, grunted at, or asked to provide your drivers license as if you are tresspassing on your own property. that type of cops acts as if he has the right to prevent you from going home, and that by allowing you by, he is doing you a favor.

Bullshit.

I do everything in my power to avoid trying to get in or out once those sawhorses go up.

That was what made me decide to go to the closest grocery store...and rush thru the shopping, to get home before the police shut us down. Instead of the one, 15 minutes away but sent me 4-10$ off your 75$ minimum order coupons. [we don't need to mention the minimum. When I grocery shop I am ALWAYS over the minimum. Way, waaaaay over the minimum.]

Of course it was one of *those* mornings. No more than 3 steps and someone is in your way. A person on one side of the aisle, their cart on the other, and them clueless. Someone talking on the phone. Listlessly picking things up off the shelf, staring at them as thought they are artifacts from ages long gone, and placing the items back on the shelf. Eating cherries out of the bag, and leaving the bag in the soda aisle. Stopping in the middle of the aisle to yell NO SHIT!!! into their phone.

NO SHIT.

Deep breath. Relax ! Lots of sighing.

I finally hit checkout. And I have a trainee casher. Very nice young lady.

She was doing great, until she hit the produce. Had to ask the employee that was training her, and helping me bag, for a plu. Silence. I look at the woman. And she is crying. Making no sound or movement, but streaming tears down her face. She plods around, types in the code, and returns to the bagging area in silence. Another plu code. Another silent walk. I am not a nosy person, but she was obviously in pain, so I asked her, are you ok? She says. Today is the anniversary of the death of my child.

That rocked me right back on my heels. And in a flash, I got the picture. Fucktard manager, this is the day before the 4th, I don't care WHO died, if you are on the schedule then you ass will be here or I will make your life hell. She couldn't afford to take a day off, and at any rate they will not give you the day before or after off and give you the holiday pay. So she showed up.

For me personally, I cannot think of a worse torture than losing a child.

So I went around, leaned in close to her ear, and told her how sorry I was for her loss. She enveloped me in a bear hug. I could feel her shoulders moving, I could feel her pain. And lookie here, who should be approaching but SOMEONE IN AUTHORITY [I think they think of themselves in capital letters like that, all they need are jackboots and a riding crop to complete their wardrobe] I pretended that I didn't see him, but loud enough for him to hear, I asked the trainee to get the floor manager. As he nears, I said hon, you really don't need to be dealing with this here, you want me to tell the manager to send you home? [what if she was really strapped for cash, I didn't want to overstep and have her lose pay cause of my mouth] She just nodded. He heard the conversation, and gave her a brusque nod.

The Big Man, giving a passing nod and an evil eye to a peasant. And a fucking sickly sweet smile to me. I already e-mailed corporate on his sorry ass. I truly dig management...don't forget who I am married to...but on his worst, so-far-back-in-the-doghouse-you-can't-see-the-whites-of-his-eyes days, Steve would NEVER treat an employee....a HUMAN.... ANY living entity...like that.

No matter how big a shit you are, you are a little shit in the bowl of the universe.

And THIS little shit just made sure THAT shit got some of what was coming to him. Karma baby. Have a heapin' helping.

[p.s. Just spoke to my mail lady. She told me, fire trucks cop cars...both local and state,... and ambulances...are all STATE vehicles. That little truck she drives is a FEDERAL vehicle, and it supercedes all local and state vehicles. Maybe I'll ask her for a ride home in the mail truck next time they close us off. And water balloon the cops. I'll be with the feds, everything will be ok. ]

July Monthly observance:

    - Bereaved Parents Awareness Month

Thank you Honey/September 5, 2011

September 5. 2011.

Everyone can tell you where they were when Kennedy got shot, or where they were when the 9/11 attacks occurred. A deeply shocking event will do that to anyone.

It certainly did it to me.

I had a regular check up with my doc. Included in that visit were the results of the annual blood work.

I was a pre-diabetic, I was ONE POINT off of being diabetic. My doc sat there with a pad in her hand, about to write me an rx. For metformin.

I froze.

Diabetes runs like a freight train thru my family, on both sides. It is what is listed on my Mothers death certificate as the cause of her death. There were many contributing factors to her death, but diabetes was the gorilla in the room. I became her primary caregiver. I watched her go thru renal dialysis 3x/week because her kidneys shut down. I became her dietician, learning [according to knowledge at that time] what she should and should not eat.

But she died. And here *I* am, sitting there, getting the same diagnosis. THIS CAN'T BE. I said WAIT! Isn't there anything I can do, on my own, without the need for a pill? I believe that is the start of a slippery slope, from which there is often no return. She said "Well, you could lose weight. And exercize. You are borderline. I can't make you any promises, but I believe if you do those things, you might be able to turn this around."

And so *I* remember exactly where I was on September 5th.

Walking out of the docs office, feeling panic, a cold sweat, shock. Yeah, it was shock. WHAT the HELL do I DO? WHERE do I start?

I came home and researched all that I could and made a list of things that I could change. And, one at a time, started doing them.

Blood sugar Sept 5 2011=125

Blood sugar Dec 2011= 105

Blood sugar April 2012= 101

I lost the weight, am no longer even pre diabetic, and made changes that I could [mostly] live with ! If you are struggling with weight loss or prediabetes, I am a walking advertizement for hard, hard, ball busting work.

I'm working so fucking hard, but it looks like I am doing it. If this blog entry doesn't sound like me, it's because every time I think about that day, I feel that sick sense of shock and horror. Mama WAS NOT HAPPY.

I believe I mentioned that at one point I thought about not blogging anymore. I posted one of the reasons back then. The other is....when I am not telling you about this life altering gorilla-in-the-room thing that happened to me, I'm hiding it. I am no good at hiding things, just ask Steve or the kids. So as I continue to blog, I will be mentioning that part of my life as well. I could NOT have done any of this without Steve. My rock and my best friend. The one who looked me straight in the eye and told me he believed in me, that he KNEW I could do this. Who made sure I had a dreadmill....you will never see me refer to a "treadmill" because to me that fucker was, is, and always will be a Dreadmill. Who held me when I would cry that it was just too hard, I couldn't do it. And he kept saying, I know you can do it.

Thanks Honey.

July 1st:
~International Chicken Wing Day
~Second Half of the Year Day

-Work will win when wishing won't-

Ahoy !

I'm sitting here going thru the morning mail. I hear a "scritch scritch scritch" noise to my left. I look up, and see a squirrel on the ledge outside the bow window in the livingroom. As I get up he leaves. I sit down and continue to read, scritch scritch scritch. The little bastard is back. I can see the birdbath is the modus operandi, he climbs up on it, and leaps to the windowsill. There are 5 windows within the bow window, and I had that window open just yesterday. If Steve left that window open overnight, the squirrel would have been thru the screen in NO time.
I call Steve and tell him, that lil fucker is staring at me. Every time I sit down, he returns. Squirrels are not as big as you think. They are googly-eyed and nervous twitchy little creatures to boot.
Steve doesn't care.
I tell him, if you left that window open last night, the squirrel would have been IN the living room, the screen wouldn't have stopped him.
Steve doesn't care.
If there is a squirrel in the living room, you can rest assured that I *won't* be there. This may seriously impact the making of dinner. I won't walk thru a squirrel zone to get to the kitchen. [Kinda like honoring a picket line]
Steve doesn't care.
I said, you wait and see, if he gets in, he WILL get into your cereal stash. We will come downstairs one morning, and the squirrel will be laying on his back, his paws feebly waving in the air, unable to roll over. His little belly will be distended, and all around him, will be scattered YOUR Capt'n Crunch!
NOW Steve gets excited!
"That Bastard! Glad I closed the window!"
Glad I know where I stand.
Right behind the Capt'n. ;o)

A Philosophy of Life

Slippers

Slippers.
I had to buy mens slippers.
FOR MYSELF.
Because womens slipper makers are cheap ass bastards.
I HATE them. AND their cheap ass slippers.
Have you ever seen the funny videos, of dogs having sno-booties put on them for the first time? How they lift their legs way up in the air?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WjwZSIDIrw

That's how mens, ill-sized for women slippers feel on my feet. I feel like I'm prancing around like a clydesdale.
Dear Ladies slipper[s] makers:
Women, believe it or not, are NOT pansies. There are times when we need slippers with the same attributes that mens have,...a grippy type of sole, and an upper that actually stays on our feet. NOT an upper that makes your damn feet slide to the inside curve of the sole.
Resulting in multiple thuds as you fall down the stairs, and a son yelling "MOM! DO YOU NEED ME TO CALL 911 ??"

Now I am a girlie girl, I admit it. Hello, my name is Gail. I'm addicted to lip gloss and purses. And slippers. Cutie-patootie pink slippers, leopard print slippers, lacy slippers, I've bought them all.
And was afraid to walk around in EVERY fucking pair.
Why?
Because you people who design these things seem to think that the only activities women participate in while wearing "womens" slippers are smoking opium or getting a mani-pedi. There is NO FUCKING WAY you can run, or even walk fast, in womens slippers.
This is WAY NOT FUCKING GOOD.
I am bruised and pissed. This is NOT a combination you want all the fuck up in YOUR grille, slipper-makers.
No, it is not.
I would like you to make womens slippers for REAL, not this fake shit that costs 3 times what the mens slippers cost.
Take a mans leather slipper, change the leather to pink or green or blue. Not yellow, too many dog owners would be traumatized trying to guess if poochie made wees on their slippers.
Size those fuckers for WOMEN. That's right, SHOE size them. There is NO FUCKING SHOE that will fit a size 8 AND size 9 woman. So WHY do you do that shit on slippers? I'll TELL your asses why. Because YOU ARE CHEAP SHITS, you slipper makers. So FIX that size shit already.
Now change the leather tie on the top to a bow, or something sparkly or glittery. NO mirrors, men would walk into walls trying to look at those mirrors and you would get sued. I may not like you, slipper-makers, but I don't want your asses sued. At least until I get what I want.
Good Slippers.
I'm waiting.

Dear Mr Shed:
Hi! Steve and Gail here. We came to you 5 weeks ago, and plunked down some Big ass change for a shed. [read: mini-house, that thing is so damn cute!] Here is what we had built with the specs we were given, it's the white one with blue shutters:



You told us, 4 weeks until delivery. GREAT. 5 weeks later, you are arriving the next morning! You arrive, with the gravel you need for the base.....and THEN tell us, whoopsie! This area needs to be shored up a bit and leveled. YO, Mr Shed, wasn't that your job? At the very least to TELL us this? Before the day of delivery? So yall just LEFT.
We were not amused.
You would think, at ANY time, let alone in this economy, business would be PRAYing for cash customers like us, and TRYING to retain them. Oh, so sorry Mr Shed. Diane was as nice as could be, she treated us well, and we liked her. But we won't be back, nor can we recommend you to anyone else.In light of this, I must give you my



We are actively working on the "rockeries" in the back yard,

[mostly on the rock wall at the rear of our property. I have a funny story [pics too!] to tell you about THAT, but that will come later in the week.We're still dealing with a TON of Poison Ivy]

and the one right by the garage door. We busted ass for an hour out there...just by the garage door..and it appears that the roots of those "weeds" I thought were so lovely go SO deep that they are wrecking the retaining wall.

This blog isn't only about Team Gail. I feel very strongly about consumer protections and consumer rights. I'm preparing a bloggie right now about AAA and Time Warner Cable. Trust me, I'm annoyed enough to guarantee that I'll be back with the rest of the story :O)
Also...Im not going anywhere. If you are a FRIEND [sorry, I do not make this offer for strangers] who is blogging, please shoot me a link. I will be more than happy to include you on my list of places I enjoy visiting

Blogger.com claims that it has spanked spammers and scammers. Let's see if they mean what they say.