Yeah, yeah, I know - I'm all Suzy Sunshine about things, right? But really, hear me out - this truly won't take long. See, everyone has a now-popular Bucket List, which is a list of things they would like to do before they die. Now. Given that I'm, well, me... I have a Kick the Bucket List. This is a list of things that I've narrowly escaped or just hope that now that I lived through it once, that evens up my quota so I hopefully won't have to do it again.
Today I have a new entry. Today, I choked. Not choked as in 'it went the wrong way and I'm dramatically coughing', I mean I was choking in the way that my food was thoroughly lodged and I could not breathe through my mouth OR my nose. Which I'd like to add is really creepy. By the time it donned on me that I could not handle this alone, I finally got my pharmacist's attention. The other tech said my face was bright red and I was feeling very weird - I figure the weird feeling was more from panic than lack of oxygen. Like a champ he calmly asked me if I was choking, spun me around, and after two attempts of the Heimlich Maneuver, I was breathing. In addition, a lovely wad o' food had gone airborne and splatted on the floor and yeah, there was pee on my leg. Heh. He squeezed hard. That definitely goes on my KTB list!
Given that we are often eating in a hurry, or in separate rooms or left alone - this really could have had a bad ending. He really did save me. I told him I was new at choking and being saved so I really didn't know what I was supposed to say. The three of us laughed about it later (and I was the ringleader because face it, sometimes the worst situations are funny) but I still feel like I need to build him a shrine or something.
Right as I was turning to put my back to him I had this odd thought. It could have been my last conscious thought prior to extracting the offending wad o' food, and I'd like to say that it was odd because of a lack of oxygen to the brain, but nah, I think it's just me. I thought, 'oh shit, he going to be touching me, very closely... is there anything I have to worry about? Like a water-filled bra that might explode'?! I don't even OWN one of those! WTF?!
So there's another entry for my Kick the Bucket List!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
You know why Christmas bothers me?????
Because I don't know what I believe. I don't. Do I really believe this story that has essentially been passed down for thousands of years, supposedly accurately? Shit - you ever play that game 'telephone'? You can't get 10 people to pass on one simple story and have it end up the same but I'm supposed to fully and unquestioningly believe all this? Right.
Add to that the fact that 'my' Christmas is January 7th! My family is from eastern Europe and I was raised Greek/Orthodox/Byzantine Catholic. Yeah, the strict one - can't you tell? Now, my own family uses those three words interchangably so I really don't know what I'm supposed to technically follow. All I know is that there is an additional slanted bar on 'my' cross and the churches are ornately beautiful. We never shook hands or hugged our 'neighbor' or even acknowledged one another for that matter. We were all sinners, hung our heads, many wore black with black scarves and we sung hymns in Slovak. (On Easter we would literally crawl on our knees with hands clasped together in prayer the entire way up to the alter thingy for communion. Not shitting you. The entire way, on a tile floor, on your knees. Sickos, they were.) Yep, we were a pretty fuckin' happy lot.
And now some dipshit thinks it's a grand idea for me to string lights and shop and sing carols and be jolly. Fuck your jolly right out your ass. I hate the freezing cold, I hate trodding through two feet of snow, I hate some of my family and if I have to see one more store employee with a jingle-bell santa hat or hear Jingle Bell Rock one more time I'm gonna cut someone. I have less than a week to finish shopping for people that I recently punched in the face... how senseless is THAT?! But I have to - thems the rules of this here Christmas shit. Then I get to buy food for a lovely celebration where I will most likely have to beg every cell in my brain to not punch the aforemetioned individual in the face yet again if this holiday goes like many others.
Give me back my gloomy eastern European faith that was housed in a slightly crumbling, ornately gilded church; the one where my grandfather rang the bell with a thick, old rope. I want my black veiled and shrouded elders singing off key in a language I never knew but could recite perfectly for hymns. Give me back my family dinners, the ones where only the people you really wanted to be there were there. Where traditional foods were prepared and the special dishes used. There were even candles that were used only for that day, year after year.
I can't say that I believe anything about my religion any more now than I did then. I question too much. Essentially, I was excommunicated from the church as a child. I still went, I just didn't really count if you were being technical. I don't know what I believe but any bit of tradition has been replaced by things that mean even less and an influx of hideous holiday decor in October. Seriously? Does anyone need to be bombarded with all the glitterfuck that early?! I do not begrudge anyone their beliefs or their desire to run around like an elf on crack, baking and shopping and wearing cutesy appliqued sweaters. What I would like is to just be left to do what I do. I can appreciate what others have put into their decorating and such, I just don't feel the need to do it myself. Not now.
The traditions, the people, the gloominess of it all, really. I miss that. To me, those candles were Christmas. And the bean soup made once a year only for Christmas, that, too. I have my moments when I'm ok with this kind of Christmas, but every year I realize that what I consider to be the important part of the holiday is so deeply steeped in tradition that the remainder has fallen away and there is simply no way for it to ever be again. Sometimes it bothers me that clarity can come so late after the fact.
But seriously, no more Jingle Bell Rock or someone is going to be extracting those bells out of unmentionable places. I will leave you with this... probably my favorite traditional carol redone by a modern band. The vocals are amazing. Not surprisingly, this is probably my second favorite and they do a great job! Give them a listen or you'll risk the wrath of the wayward jingle bell...
Add to that the fact that 'my' Christmas is January 7th! My family is from eastern Europe and I was raised Greek/Orthodox/Byzantine Catholic. Yeah, the strict one - can't you tell? Now, my own family uses those three words interchangably so I really don't know what I'm supposed to technically follow. All I know is that there is an additional slanted bar on 'my' cross and the churches are ornately beautiful. We never shook hands or hugged our 'neighbor' or even acknowledged one another for that matter. We were all sinners, hung our heads, many wore black with black scarves and we sung hymns in Slovak. (On Easter we would literally crawl on our knees with hands clasped together in prayer the entire way up to the alter thingy for communion. Not shitting you. The entire way, on a tile floor, on your knees. Sickos, they were.) Yep, we were a pretty fuckin' happy lot.
And now some dipshit thinks it's a grand idea for me to string lights and shop and sing carols and be jolly. Fuck your jolly right out your ass. I hate the freezing cold, I hate trodding through two feet of snow, I hate some of my family and if I have to see one more store employee with a jingle-bell santa hat or hear Jingle Bell Rock one more time I'm gonna cut someone. I have less than a week to finish shopping for people that I recently punched in the face... how senseless is THAT?! But I have to - thems the rules of this here Christmas shit. Then I get to buy food for a lovely celebration where I will most likely have to beg every cell in my brain to not punch the aforemetioned individual in the face yet again if this holiday goes like many others.
Give me back my gloomy eastern European faith that was housed in a slightly crumbling, ornately gilded church; the one where my grandfather rang the bell with a thick, old rope. I want my black veiled and shrouded elders singing off key in a language I never knew but could recite perfectly for hymns. Give me back my family dinners, the ones where only the people you really wanted to be there were there. Where traditional foods were prepared and the special dishes used. There were even candles that were used only for that day, year after year.
I can't say that I believe anything about my religion any more now than I did then. I question too much. Essentially, I was excommunicated from the church as a child. I still went, I just didn't really count if you were being technical. I don't know what I believe but any bit of tradition has been replaced by things that mean even less and an influx of hideous holiday decor in October. Seriously? Does anyone need to be bombarded with all the glitterfuck that early?! I do not begrudge anyone their beliefs or their desire to run around like an elf on crack, baking and shopping and wearing cutesy appliqued sweaters. What I would like is to just be left to do what I do. I can appreciate what others have put into their decorating and such, I just don't feel the need to do it myself. Not now.
The traditions, the people, the gloominess of it all, really. I miss that. To me, those candles were Christmas. And the bean soup made once a year only for Christmas, that, too. I have my moments when I'm ok with this kind of Christmas, but every year I realize that what I consider to be the important part of the holiday is so deeply steeped in tradition that the remainder has fallen away and there is simply no way for it to ever be again. Sometimes it bothers me that clarity can come so late after the fact.
But seriously, no more Jingle Bell Rock or someone is going to be extracting those bells out of unmentionable places. I will leave you with this... probably my favorite traditional carol redone by a modern band. The vocals are amazing. Not surprisingly, this is probably my second favorite and they do a great job! Give them a listen or you'll risk the wrath of the wayward jingle bell...
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Momma always said life was like a box of random... you never know what I'm gonna pull outta my ass
Although I may be somewhat misquoting Mr. Gump there. ::cough::
So, I took a little break. Wanna know why? Of course you couldn't give two shits but you are probably reading this at work and, well hell - let's admit, reading this crap is still better than actually working.
Said I felt tired and incredibly irritable (yes, more eratic than usual). So, come to find out my Ferritin level is doing the 'how low can you go' limbo, I'm now anemic, and my vitamin D level is just about as low as anyone has seen. Next week I see the hematologist so he can ask me numerous questions ensuring I haven't been exposed to Anthrax or Mad Cow then set me up with some iron and high dose vitamin D. I would like that. Then I may not feel like I'm struggling just to breathe. Seems like an easy fix... YAY ME!
I found a goose. He was in the road looking around and I got out to move him - at 10:30pm. Next thing I know I'm driving with a goose in my lap in the dark just hoping it didn't latch onto my lip... those fuckers can be mean. We had a good conversation though - I explained my love of all things canadian to him and he, by default, fell into that category, being a Canada goose by design. Sadly, he did not make it but I tried. Man, he was awfully warm and soft... I totally 'got' the goose-down thing then, but I didn't tell him! Driving with a grown goose in your lap is hard. Really hard - makes turns almost impossible because you have to hold their wings down with even pressure or all hell will break loose. These are my normal nights.
For the first time in my life I punched a guy in the face. Or anyone, for that matter. We were crossing over into sexual assault territory and I gave him three options. 1: back off, 2: keys in my left hand are about to swing up and clock you in the face, 3: I will punch you - in the face. After he pinned me back, I managed to get loose and yelled at him to back off. He kept saying 'ok' but coming for me again - so I hit him - right in the mouth. Nice way for your cousin's husband to treat you, isn't it? Any surprise I feel really awkward at family gatherings?
Found a job, applied for a job, had a phone screening session. They should have notified me by Thursday if they wanted me for an interview, but I've heard nothing. A bit disappointing but in truth, the job may be a bit above me, you know. It's ok - I got out there and TRIED! I'm breaking the chains of my current employer. And if they don't watch their step, I may punch them, too...haha.
Lastly, I just have to comment on something I saw when I was doing some internet shopping. For those unawares, SPANX is a line of lightweight, smoothing undergarments made to really make you look good in your clothes. Needless to say, all women want that, right? But, being a chunky monkey myself, I really do benefit from this fantastic invention. The model they used, however, seems to have forgotten to eat for the past 8 months. Minimum. And they use HER to show how this product works?! Seriously?! What in the hell does SHE have to suck in?! They HAD to have had it pinned in the back... her fucking hip bones stick out so far she could double as a sundial fer crissakes! Now. Personally I happen to think she is too thin. But that isn't the point. She may be healthy and happy... and almost see-through. The point is that she is modeling an item used to suck in extra pounds. Oh puh-lease...
This just really pisses me off. And you wonder where both men and women get warped views of their body. If this 92 pound darling is in need of a modern girdle, so to speak, then what must the average person think of themselves? Sorry, but they could have used a model that looks like she's at least eaten something in the past few months. Her thighs have a canyon-like gap that is not natural. I can usually get beyond this, but when I know how people internalize this, it angers me. I've been in stores and overheard ~11 year old girls talking about how fat their thighs are... and they are little, scrawny 11 year old girls.
Well, that's all the random coming outta my ass tonight. Hope to browse around blogland tomorrow so I can catch up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)