Tag: humor

What About the Zombie Apocalypse?

On Tuesday morning I had an ultrasound procedure to determine if my recent medical issues were actually the diverticulitis that I’d self-diagnosed or a result of a faulty gallbladder. No big deal, but I was required to fast from midnight until after my 10 a.m. appointment.

During an average night I get up at least twice to potty and get a drink of water. Afraid that I’d forget the “nothing by mouth” order I taped a hastily written note to my bathroom mirror:

Of course Studly Doright found the note hilarious.

Thank goodness, though, for my foresight because at 3:49 a.m. I had a glass of water in hand and only my note prevented me from taking a big drink. Take that Studly!

As I drove to the imaging center I pondered that note. What if, God forbid, some tragic accident had taken both my life and Studly’s life before we returned home that day. Whatever would investigators make of the cryptic “No food or water!!”?

Might someone have thought I was starving in spite of the abundance of food in our pantry? Perhaps they’d believe I’d penned a note crying out for help because my husband had forbidden me access to our food supply.

Then of course my mind pondered how that note might be interpreted by survivors of a zombie apocalypse. Would they think our food and water were tainted? Would some poor survivor pass by the jars of peanut butter and boxes of rice and cereal believing the contents weren’t fit for human consumption? I’d hate to be the reason someone in an apocalyptic situation starved to death. As soon as I returned home I tossed it in the trash. Whew! That was a close one.

Peace, people

A Metaphor?

Monday is laundry day. Now that there are just two of us in the Doright household the chore isn’t nearly as tedious as it once was. I still don’t love doing laundry, but I don’t mind it nearly as much.

Once the final load was in the dryer I drove into Tallahassee for a few necessities. Normally I avoid the big retailer (aka Walmart), but it was the nearest store that was sure to have everything I needed.

When I entered the store I was looking for just three items, so I didn’t grab a shopping cart. Can you believe how naive I still am at the ripe old age of 61.5? One doesn’t simply shop at Walmart without a cart.

As my arms became overburdened with just discovered “must haves” I began looking for an abandoned cart. As luck would have it, I found one just around the corner from the Preparation H aisle. Don’t ask, but yes, that was one of my necessities. Damned diverticulitis.

It didn’t take me long to realize why the cart had been abandoned:

That annoying intermittent sound (much louder in real life than in the above video) was my cart. The darned thing handled like a two ton tank that every few feet emitted an awful buzz causing fellow shoppers to wince and/or laugh out loud. A small child began crying as I approached.

I guess I could have abandoned the cart as its previous operator had done, but I decided to embrace it instead, quirky sound effects and all. As I wrestled my noisy cart around the store, adding milk and cat treats and plain yogurt and bananas and yes, Preparation H, among other things, I began to think of the cart as a metaphor for life:

“The road we travel isn’t always peaceful or smooth, but if you keep pushing, eventually you’ll get to lay down your load.”

Okay, that’s a crummy metaphor, but what are you going to do? Sue me?

Peace, people.

Today’s Activities Thus Far

Shower

Yogurt with bananas and honey for breakfast

Brush teeth

Commiserate over Studly Doright’s lack of sleep

Law and Order mini-marathon

Load dishwasher

Organize Studly’s pharmaceuticals

Remember that I forgot to get dressed, apply immediate remedy in the form of denim capris and white T-shirt

Scowl at reflection in mirror

Apply makeup

Smile at reflection in mirror

Locate favorite flip flops and place them on feet

Compile a list of items to buy at CVS

Locate purse and phone

Remember that I didn’t write a blog post for today

Take a few minutes to write something to assuage my conscience

Frown at the results

Find a picture to distract from the lackluster post

Realize that wasn’t the one you wanted

Stick with that one

Peace, people

Publish

Rivertown Mercantile

On Thursday afternoon I drove the 45 minutes to the small town of Blountstown to get my hair cut and colored. My stylist, Genia Burke at Head 2 Toe, worked her magic and I look human again.

My trips to Blountstown are never complete, though, without a stop at Rivertown Mercantile. I’m in search of a bedside table for one of our guest bedrooms, and thought I might find one here. I didn’t find one that met my needs, but I enjoyed looking all the same.

I got a kick out of their sidewalk advertisement:

I love the displays of antiques and vintage items for sale.

On past visits I’ve bought some vintage botanical prints as well as some fun knick knacks and old books. Alas, I am still a bit puny and didn’t have the stamina to shop until I dropped. Actually I was a little worried that dropping might’ve been an unintended outcome, and I still had to drive home. I’ll be back in a month or so, and indulge myself further then.

By the way, I don’t receive any type of compensation for mentioning these businesses. I just like spreading the word.

Peace, people.

Haircut Today!

My last haircut was April 3rd. The last time I had my hair color enhanced (aka dyed) was three weeks before that. Today is May 31. To say that I’ve begun looking a little unkempt would be an massive understatement.

I wear my hair really short, so my normal routine consists of a haircut every three weeks and color every six weeks. I’ve been sick since the beginning of May, though, and had to cancel my regular appointments. This is a reasonable approximation of my current look:

Add more gray to the fur, and that’s me.

My appointment isn’t until 11:30, but I set my alarm for 6:00 a.m. and was awake well before that. I’m jumping for joy, but only mentally, because at my age, physically jumping for joy could be hazardous to my health. I could do it, but I might not be able to walk for a week. And nothing is going to keep me from this appointment.

In my stead, here are inspiring photos of others expressing their joy. Enjoy their joy!

Peace (and joy) people!

Buhbye to Roseanne

When ABC revived the Roseanne show I didn’t pay much attention. I’d seldom watched the original program and had no desire to watch the reboot. All politics aside, I always found the show to be mean spirited.

When we lived outside of Champaign, Illinois, I saw Roseanne Barr do standup live at the venerable Virginia Theater. Studly Doright was out of town that week and I got bored, so at the last minute I bought a ticket.

She was good that night. Not great. She seemed subdued, talking about how becoming a grandmother had changed her. There was nothing political about her performance, as I recall, and I gave her scant thought after I left the theater.

But these past couple of years Roseanne has become a vocal trump supporter. Her tweets on Twitter were peppered with insults aimed at Liberals, some were of a blatantly racist nature. She even embraced hardcore right wing conspiracy theories and shared them with no regard for the truth.

In spite of this, ABC brought her back into the fold hoping, perhaps, that she could keep her racist ideology under wraps long enough to make big bucks for the network. Yesterday, though, she finally went too far for ABC and parent company, Disney.

From a local ABC affiliate:

Roseanne Barr wrote early Tuesday morning, “Muslim brotherhood & planet of the apes had a baby=vj.” Barr was responding to a comment about Valerie Jarrett, a top former aide to president Obama. She later deleted the tweet.

The show was quickly cancelled following the abrupt resignations of show writers, Wanda Sykes and Whitney Cummings. I’d say, “bravo, ABC,” but they knew she was a racist, right wing troll when they hired her. Public outcry was the driving force behind her termination.

So let us bid adieu to Roseanne, at least for now. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her honored for her actions by the Racist-in-Chief.

Peace, people

Here are somewhat relevant photos of The Virginia Theater in Champaign. I adore this old place.

And an even more relevant photo of a younger Roseanne grabbing her crotch during her heinous performance of the national anthem before a sporting event.

Shaggy and Nutty

I was supposed to have gotten my hair cut and colored on May 8, but I was still battling diverticulitis and had to cancel my appointment. I called my stylist and broke into sobs as I left a message telling her I was too sick to make the 45 minute drive to Blountstown.

She called the next day to reschedule my appointment and I believe I detected a note of wariness in her voice. I can’t say I blame her. What kind of loon cries when she cancels a haircut? Her earliest opening was on the 31st, and I’m counting the minutes until I look like me again instead of this shaggy gray crone I see when I look in a mirror.

Part of me is a little worried that she’ll have the men in white coats waiting to carry me away. Hey, as long as she cuts and colors my hair first, I’m fine with that. I’ll be the best coiffed chick in the home.

The Greatest Speeches Never Heard

Martin Luther King

Winston Churchill

John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Abraham Lincoln

Franklin Delano Roosevelt

These great men were known for their dynamic oratory. Their words were used to rouse their countrymen to fight or to urge them to find peace. There’s no doubt they each had a speechwriter, or even a team thereof, to help craft their words, but in the end their ability to inspire change came in equal parts from the written words and in their respective abilities to deliver them with the appropriate gravitas, fervor, and sincerity.

I would humbly submit to you that some of the world’s greatest speeches, though, have been delivered by me. My audience generally was sparse. Occasionally Natasha, the cat of my teenaged years, sat listening attentively to my various soliloquies. More often than not I implored or entertained, sometimes even thrilled, an audience made up of stuffed animals and Barbie dolls. They never exactly applauded my efforts, but I could see the approval gleaming in their eyes.

And my repertoire was immense. One day I’d speak on the importance of the civil rights movement, begging my audience to remember that we are all equal in the sight of God. Another day I’d offer the most heartfelt Oscar acceptance speech ever heard, sometimes bringing myself to tears. The orchestra never played me off stage.

Saving endangered species from extinction and conserving resources were hot topics. I educated my audiences on the importance of family planning, so concerned was I with the dangers of overpopulation. Everything was important. No subject was off limits.

There were very few times in my young life that I actually gave a speech in front of real people, and sadly, my oratory abilities didn’t carry over from my bedroom to the auditorium. In front of real live people I lost my nerve and generally spoke dispassionately and sometimes nonsensically.

As a candidate for our junior high student council I gave a lackluster speech whilst clinging desperately to the podium on the auditorium stage. I believe I barely spoke above a whisper as I promised to address the dress code if elected. Needless to say, I didn’t win. An eighth grade teacher did tell me I looked very professional in my white dress. “Not many people can wear that color,” she said. Heh.

I wanted to tell her, “Lady, I’ve got a lot of admirers.” They just happened to be stuffed or plastic.

As a teacher I guess I did finally get my live audiences. Occasionally those sweet elementary or middle school students seemed mesmerized by my impassioned lesson delivery. Or maybe they just needed to hear, “Yes, you will be tested over this!”

Peace, people.

Waiting on the Rain; Tired of the Pain

Early Saturday morning I took Studly Doright to the local emergency room. Nothing critical, but the nerve pain resulting from his recent surgery had gotten out of control, and nothing we tried could make him comfortable. His surgeon had told us that it would take six to eight weeks for the nerve pain to ease off. I sure hope it’s closer to the six week estimate. He’s miserable, and I’ve never felt so helpless.

We were impressed with the efficiency of the Tallahassee Memorial Hospital’s ER staff. Studly was taken to a room immediately and we were headed home within an hour. They were able to get his pain under control and while it’s still a factor, he can manage it now.

As for me, I’m feeling better every day. The diverticulitis seems to be under control. I’m still eating carefully, though. I’ve completely cut caffeine out of my diet, and now that the headaches have stopped I can tell a real difference. I’m sleeping better and all of those “sinus” headaches I’ve suffered from have become very rare. Something tells me those weren’t sinus headaches after all. I’m still avoiding alcohol, as well. I sure miss my wine, but I think I feel better without it.

Gosh, we sound like a couple of old farts. If the shoe fits, I suppose we should wear it.

Finally, a tropical storm is headed our way this afternoon. Our area is expected to get high winds and quite a bit of much needed rain. I’m really not ready for hurricane season, but hurricane season is ready for me.

The Scoop on Solo

Yesterday I wrote of my intentions to see Solo: A Star Wars Story and of my trepidations. Han Solo, as played roguishly by Harrison Ford in the original trilogy and in the more recent, The Force Awakens, has been the inspiration for many of my romantic sci-fi daydreams over these past forty years.

Han Solo has been my imaginary hall pass. In other words, if Han, as played by Harrison Ford, ever shows up at my door in the Millennium Falcon Studly Doright gives his permission for me to spend some quality private time with the scoundrel. No questions asked. Mighty open minded of my Studly, wouldn’t you agree?

The film, Solo, is set in a time before the original trilogy, taking us back to before Han made his fabled Kessel run in twelve or so parsecs. Obviously Harrison Ford couldn’t play the part of scoundrel Han, having grown too old to play the younger version. I was genuinely concerned about the casting choice of Alden Ehrenreich. In the trailers he appeared too short, too boxy, too callow, too “not Harrison Ford.”

But, I am happy to report that not only is Mr. Ehrenreich a perfect Hal Solo (too young for me to lust over, but that’s okay), but Donald Glover is a fittingly rakish Lando Calrission, and Joonas Suotamo is a marvelous Chewbacca. The entire cast, including Woody Harrelson as the thief/smuggler, Becket, and Amelia Clark (also known as Game of Thrones’s Khaleesi) as young Han’s love interest, Kira, is spot on.

The pacing of the film is reminiscent of Star Wars, A New Hope. It’s fast and fun and chock full of wise cracks and charm and surprises. I was transported back to that world I fell in love with as a young adult.

Now, back to Han Solo. There’s one brief moment in which our young scoundrel is shown in profile, almost a silhouette, and he’s the spitting image of Han as portrayed by Harrison Ford. It almost took my breath away. Han lives on.

Go see the film. Let me know what you think. I’m curious to know if anyone else saw that scene as I did.

Peace, people.