Life on a Saturday

Things have certainly been...interesting around here. I first want to thank you all for your comments about me being a "Rotten Person". I sincerely appreciate your kind words and support. When I posted that I was a little very concerned I would be ousted from Blogland...and certainly be knocked off my post as Self-Appointed Queen. How wrong I was! You guys so rock...I can't even tell you how much I love you guys.

Second...We had a family tragedy a few days ago. My brother's wife's brother committed suicide. He was found in a hotel room. It's very sad - he was young, and leaves behind a wife and two kids. A quick prayer for this family would be most appreciated.

Onto blog bidniz...

Here...Hold My Purse


Ok. Show of hands...how many people know that putting your lipstick and mascara in the freezer overnight will sterilize it?

Or dipping your lipstick in alcohol for 15 seconds - then wiping it with a tissue* - will sterilize it?

I didn't. But according to Dr Oz on Good Morning America this morning, both of these things work.

I Think I'm a Rotten Person

I think I'm a terrible person. Really. I honestly think there is something wrong with me.

I can appreciate the sentimentality of today, 9/11. I understand the memorials, the remembrances, the special TV coverage. I also understand the importance of the day in America's history.

What I can't stand is to watch the scenes from that day played over and over. I just can't. Maybe I'm a wicked, evil person - but I just cannot make myself watch the television coverage, listen to the radio discussions, or read websites and blogs with dedications on them.

So I don't have a tribute for today. I don't even want to talk about it. And that makes me wonder if I'm a horrible person. Is it awful to want to think of happier things - to block being reminded of such despair? I think I should watch the ceremonies on TV...but I can't. I don't want to. I don't want to offend the people affected by that day, eight years ago. In a way, I think everyone was affected by that day. I just can't deal with the sadness - and don't want to be any part of it. I want to turn on a re-run of Golden Girls. That's much easier on the soul.

I want to know what you think. Does my aversion to things like this - whether it's not wanting to acknowledge or remember 9/11 - or it's my inability to watch one of those commercials put on by Animal Planet, featuring Sarah McLachlan, where they discuss abused animals - make me a bad person? What's your opinion?


Very Cool Art

I was fumbling around the web when I came across this very cool site. "WebUrbanist" has so many cool - and varied - pieces of art, my eyes almost melted to the screen. The above link will take you to a page focusing on the most incredibly carved eggs you've ever seen - as well as phenomenally carved pencils. The word "pencils" is misleading - each of these amazing pieces is carved from a single pencil. One pencil. It's...mind bending! Not to mention the equally fascinating carved books.

Who comes up with this stuff? Who has the patience? How many eggs, pencils, books, etc do they ruin while practicing??

Good things pencils and eggs are cheap!

And their sister site, Dornob, has some interesting creations as well. Edible cups and bowls - grown in a garden? It's true. Check out their sinks, also. I wouldn't want one...but wow. Odd and interesting at the same time.

Here is a quick preview from the first site, WebUrbanist...



And from Dornob, the sister site...



There are several other sites connected to the two I've shared - and they all combine "architecture" and "alternative art". If I had known architecture could be so interesting, I may have pursued that career path...and actually have money today!

All the sites tied into WebUrbanist and Dornob are definitely worth checking out.

xx

Time for a Shortie

You must visit this new-to-me blog, Muskrat (sometimes I say things that are inappropriate), and read his post for today. It is so funny that I laughed hysterically. Loud enough to gain the 'beasts attention - which is close to impossible. I shouldn't say that. The boys perk up pretty easily if they hear/smell food.

You've got to read the post - which can be found here. Properly entitled, "Convevniently Omitted from the "What to Expect" Books: The Daughter Who Sings to Her Vagina". Maybe I found this post so funny because I can relate - both as a child whose mother could not keep clothes on her, and as a mother who has a child who strips the minute she walks in the door from school. (I thought that would end...but she still does it at 9 1/2.)

This post reminded me of something I've had on my computer for a long time. I received it as an email attachment, so some of you may have seen it. Even if you have, it's totally worth another look. I don't normally save email attachments...but some defy "normality". You'll understand when you watch it.

I will warn you, THIS IS AN ADULT VIDEO. You probably shouldn't watch it in front of your boss. Unless said boss is very understanding - and has a great sense of humor. And you definitely shouldn't watch it in front of your five year-old. Unless you're prepared for some very "uncomfortable" questions. Otherwise, watch and enjoy.



Enjoy your day off, America. (And everyone else, as well.)

It's Not MY Fault, JD Made Me Do It


Yes, I know I said I would finish my last post. And I'm aware I should be finishing that post now. However, through no fault of my own (I'm totally blaming JD), a topic was mentioned that I want to address.

As I was blog surfing, I came to JD's blog, "I Do Things So You Don't Have To". In case you haven't read her blog before, this woman is hi-LAR-ious. Seriously. She is at the top of her comic game, one of my very favorite funny people. I look forward to her posts almost as much as I look forward to the day I can go to the bathroom without an entourage.
Before going any further, you have to read JD's post, "I Get Zapped So You Don't Have To". Personally, I think she should have named the post, "I Found a Fool-Proof Way to Get Any Cat to Pack It's Bags & Hit the Door, So You Don't Have To" - but as usual, I wasn't consulted before publication. (At some point, people will come to realize they should consult me before doing anything...but that hasn't happened just yet. Maybe it's because people see just how awesome my life is - and they just don't want to take away any of my fun and joy.)

The "fun and joy" that is my life.
Go ahead and read it...I'll wait.

Back? Ok, good. I told you she's a total riot.
Reading her post brought up a memory I couldn't help but share with you, which is why I'm delaying part two of my last post, "I Hope I Don't Hack Off Too Many People...". As promised, it will be posted. It's just going to be an extra day. I can't be responsible for the riot that may break out if the kingdom was privy to two juicy posts from the Queen in one day.

Know what I mean, Vern?


I HOWLED at this post...I have mucho experience with portable TENS units...and the fun they can be. However, you have not experienced TRUE fun until you've had a central stim unit implanted.
Align Center
Basically it's the same premise - only it's a unit that is implanted under your skin, with a rather large wire and sixteen electrodes which they "install" in your spinal column.


An example of the sixteen electrodes I have implanted.
Ahhh yes. As if staying awake for that surgery isn't fun enough, the first time you turn it on - which is at home, when you're alone - is even better.

I AM a Bionic Woman

You see, they implant the antennae part under your skin, right at the top of your butt.

You are given a large pager-type device that controls this implanted unit that has now made you the Bionic Woman, and coming off this pager-like unit, is a wire with a flat donut-looking thing that attaches over the antennae with some super-sticky tape.

You put the flat donut-looking thing over the antennae, and away you go. Intense and powerful stimulation occurs in the legs, helping to control pain. (It actually just works to confuse the nerves in your spinal column, so you feel "electric" sensations instead of pain.) Ya with me so far?

Could this post be turning into any more of a medical class??
They temporarily program this thing while you're in the hospital, recovering from the surgery you got to witness, firsthand. You're on some pretty good drugs, your body is swollen where they put this "device", as is your spinal column. If you have as much scar tissue in your spine as I do, the surgery - which is supposed to last 60 to 90 minutes, if I remember correctly - can last up to 6 1/2 HOURS, while they try everything to tunnel through the scar tissue...while not paralyzing you.

Fast forward a few weeks...the surgeon gives me the "go ahead" to turn the stimulator on. I'm a little nervous and put off turning it on. Ok, I admit it. I'm outright scared. What if I turn it on wrong and I electrocute myself to death? I do not want the headline in the paper to read,
"Woman Survives Amazing 6 1/2 Hour Bionic Surgery -
Only to Electrocute Herself with Completely Safe Device"
.
Not only do I not want that legacy, but having been a paramedic, I know what my own reaction would have been had I shown up on a call to find a patient twitching uncontrollably from something implanted inside them.
The doctor calls to see how turning it on went. I admit to being a chicken. In fact, I'm reveling in my chicken status, totally happy to be ignorant of this experience. I'll take chicken over fried chicken any day.

My kids, always wanting what's in my best interest (aka - always wanting to help me to make a fool out of myself as often as possible - as if I can't manage that totally on my own), keep begging me to turn it on. After several rounds of my polite declining, the oldest tells me that if I don't turn it on myself, he'll just wait til I'm asleep...and turn it on for me. This threat actually scared me. Petrified me. Why? Because there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that, not only would he actually do it, but he would really enjoy it.

Oldest 'beast

Me
So I mustered up my courage (unlike JD, who mustered up her cat), stood up next to my bed, made a stack of pillows to hold on to, and told the oldest 'beast to go ahead and turn it on.

I braced myself, knowing the swelling had gone down significantly since they had programmed the unit. I listened intently for him to turn it on, almost having a coronary when the unit began making a high pitched beeping noise. I had forgotten it did this in order to signal it's on and searching for a signal. After pulling my heart out of my mouth, I relaxed - because I felt nothing. Nadda. Ahhh! The unit was on - and I didn't die of electrocution. My overly-exposed nerves could stop freaking out...and I could stop producing buckets of adrenaline! Phew!

I stopped holding onto the pillows and stood upright. The high pitched beeping stopped, and I was still conscious. I had been chicken for nothing! What was the big deal, anyway? I turned around to tell the oldest 'beast I had been chicken for nothing - that I was totally fine...

Too bad I wasn't real familiar with the unit - or the fact that the beeping only signaled the power and correct placement of the unit. I had forgotten that the user still had to push another button to actually get the stimulation going...

So as I turned to tell him I wasn't going to die, he hit the "right" button. The gal who programmed the stimulator had left the stimulation level on "high"...

More than the reaction of JD's (now permanently nervous) cat, have you ever seen a fish out of water? How they flop around tirelessly, trying to find water? Imagine a 5'11" woman doing that. Just as uncontrollably as the fish. Body jerking this way and that, after going from a fully standing position - to flat-on-the-ground-flopping, in less than one second. The power to this thing was crazy. Crazy intense. It caused my body to immediately, intensely SEIZE. But it also caused another issue...

As I'm flopping around on the floor, flopping uncontrollably, I realize I can't take this amount of stimulation. It's painful. V-v-very p-p-painful. So I begin laughing. Hysterically. Like pee-in-my-pants laughing. And altho the stimulation is intense - and it hurts like *ell, I can't tell him. I'm being obnoxiously tickled to death in the most painful way possible. Thoughts of ripping open my incision are interrupted only with thoughts of trying not to literally wet my pants.
And since he can't see my face, he thinks I'm loving this. He starts laughing - so hard, he can't hear me when I finally get, "s-s-s-s-s-ssss-STOP!!!" out.
Ah yes, the memories. I don't share his opinion of wishing we had gotten the whole thing on video - whether we could have won some serious dough or not.

Just wait til I tell you about all the experiences I've had going into/coming out of stores with those security systems you have to walk through...I've been "dropped" - without warning, all the way to the ground - by several of those in town.
So I'll take JD's TENS unit. I already know how her cat feels.

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