Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Twenty.Four.Teen.

I know many of you are waiting to kick 2014 in the ass, bidding it a fond good riddance, hoping that the new year will be nothing like this one. For some, Twenty-Fourteen was brutal, with many losses, trials and tribulations, with bad news pooping all over your life parade. I started to itemize the events, losses and pains friends of the Addiverse survived, but that got a bit depressing, so I stopped. All I know is that most of you would vote 2014 was not the year to remember.

As for me, it looks like I'm one of the fortunate ones. Although we too have faced losses and stressors, I can't say anything bad about this year. For Pete's sake, we got legally married. How can I complain about a year that included such a tremendous feat, something I never thought I'd see in my lifetime? That alone makes it an awesome year.

Besides getting married (which nothing could top, even though by heterosexual-spend -$50,000-standards, it was a very non-descript event), I watched all Doctor Who episodes created since 2005, somehow ended up leading a church and was bestowed a new position at my job. I talked a lot about tampons and poop, attended a Packer game, dumped an ice bucket on my head, ran through mud as a warrior, enjoyed a most-wonderful wedding in Minnesota (or, was it Wisconsin? Hard to say), watched youngest niece graduate from high school and finally paid off a 30-year debt to the wife by taking her to see Eddie Money (go figure). I had the pleasure of having a cell phone stolen and am still struggling to re-enter all my contacts, albeit now in an android world.

And yes, you've heard all of this crap before, especially about the tampons and poop. Oh, how I love to talk about poop.

You'd think that being in my fifties would encourage me not to waste time on book de la face and on that pinning place, but I did. I chose to watch Doctors 9, 10, 11 and 12 instead of working out. I spent more time on church than I want to think about--all of which sucked time away from blogging and starting a new Netflix series of one sort or another.

That said, I had many a meal with treasured friends and dared to play "Cards Against Humanity" with my family. I waved a very sad good-bye to MJagger when she secured a new job, but I couldn't begrudge one iota because it was a great move for her. Freckles celebrated her "third-last" Christmas, which I think surprised us all. As everyone in our small corner of the world knows, we thanked Lucy Bark of Poteidaia for all the joy she brought us while she was on this earthly plane. I know there is so much more that happened during the year and I beg forgiveness for not remembering everything and everyone. I had a very good year and thank you for your part in it.

For those of you who had a rough 2014, I wish you only the best for the new year. Using the approach of affirmation, I see you having a great year, filled with things you love, need and want. I thank the Universe for the gifts it bestows you, the health it brings you, the abundance it rains down upon you. I see you oozing with comfort, support, strength and courage and for that I am grateful.

As for me, I look forward to the new year, but not because this year was one I want left behind. I haven't really thought about 2015 yet, probably because it's not quite here and you know I really do live one day (or maybe an hour) at a time. I can think about it tomorrow. I'd hate to start looking too far ahead--I don't want 2015 to get the wrong idea. I look forward to travel, perhaps a new tattoo, another Warrior Dash and maybe even one of those 5K color blast runs. I see much success and prosperity, however I decide to define that. I plan on quoting Doctor Who whenever given the chance and on spending more time outside instead of on the couch. I'll talk a lot about poop and tampons and we'll celebrate our first official wedding anniversary (dear god, don't get me started on what date to celebrate). We'll see if Freckles has a "fourth-last" Christmas.

Here's to a great 2015, party people of the Addiverse. No worries--the baby Jesus and I have your back.
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Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Welcome to the iCult

For a variety of reasons, I decided to go back to an Android, this after having an iPhone for the past many years. Yesterday, we meandered over to the Horizon store and took a gander at the phones of the world. While the wife was drooling over the i6, I contemplated the meaning of flip phones and non-Apple products. There was nothing "wrong" with the iPhone--I just really enjoyed my work Android (right up until the very moment it was stolen off my desk, rat bastard). I found it compatible with all I do in my daily life. I'm a gmail/PC kind of girl. (The wife, on the other hand, has every Apple product known to man, so it makes sense she stay within the iApple iCult. I had an iPhone. I had little to lose. She's swimming in iPods and iPads, uses an iPhone and Mac computer.....)

Prior to going to the Horizon store, I did some research (the wife was so proud). I found I could get the phone of my choice (a smart phone--no worries--I ruled out the flip phone) for free if ordered on line. Thankfully, there was a "coupon" on the website that could be printed out so I could get this offer at the local store. The phone also came with a free tablet. BAM! Who was I to argue? I printed out the coupon and headed toward the Horizon.

Long story short, I got my phone for free--this after the lady told me it was $199 with my discount. I proudly pulled out my coupon and wa-la--the $199 phone became free. I got the tablet for free, too. The only charge was the stupid "upgrade" fee they charge everyone. (It's like when you buy a car and they have those dealer fees of which are non-negotiable.) The wife, on the other hand, had to order her phone (those iPhone 6's are in hot demand) and choke up a whole bunch of money. 

I kept my iPhone, figuring it is still useful when on wi-fi and I could use it as an iPod. Sure, I could have turned it in to get $100 but all my music is on iTunes, so it made sense to me to keep it. Besides, my speakers at work are set up only for iPhones and iPods. I have no energy to run around and find an adapter for my expensive iSpeakers. I paid a lot of money for those speakers--I'm not giving them up.

Within hours, I learned it is VERY difficult to leave the iCult. Apple isn't stupid; in fact, they are downright genius, evil as they may be. It's like the Hotel California--you can check in but you can never check out......

When I got home, I sent some texts out, proclaiming the purchase of my new phone. I was very sad when no one texted me back. I waited and waited....but, nothing. 

Later, while adding apps to my new phone, I pulled out my iPhone--I wanted to make sure I wasn't forgetting any apps I use daily. That's when I saw I had a whole bunch of texts.

Dang, my texts were still going to my iPhone.

Here's how the iCult works: I had been using an iPhone and thus had been iMessaging but had now switched to an Android which does not send or receive iMessages. This is a problem: friends don't know I no longer have an iPhone, so their texts to me still go out as an iMessage.... which, in turn, end up on my no-longer-a-phone iPhone instead of my new Android. 

The iCult was holding me hostage.

I was concerned. I mean, I didn't want to carry around a non-phone iPhone just to get texts. There had to be a way around this. An internet search led to affirmation that it is very hard to get out of the iCloud and iCult. Steve Jobs was taunting me from his heavenly cloud, I just know it.

Within seconds of googling, I learned that I was not exactly the only one experiencing this problem. The iPhone-to-Android people of the world expressed strong disdain for the iCult and lamented about how hard it is to resolve this particular problem. I visited many a site trying to figure this out. While there were tons of ideas--everything from deleting my iCloud account to sending a text to some unknown place indicating STOP--it seemed that the most effective method was to contact all iPhone friends and tell them of my plight. That way, they could re-set their contact list to indicate I was no longer using iMessaging.

Seriously. More sites than not indicated this was by far the best way to go.

I felt iStressed. How the hell was I going to do that? I decided to change my iCloud password (one of the big suggestions), turned off my iMessaging, sent the STOP text to somewhere (who knows) and signed out of every iPlace I could think of....

Although that seemed more than enough, I had serious iDoubts. I trembled at the thought of missing texts....so, I emailed everyone I could think of who I thought had an iPhone and asked them to change my contact information to reflect I no longer had an iPhone. I tried to include directions how to do this but I was clear as mud and am sure I made the problem more complicated for some. Since that didn't seem enough (overkill is a friend of mine), I posted a blurb on Book de la Face, alerting people of my non-iMessaging status.

Thankfully, I was quickly flooded with texts on my new phone. Friends across the globe texted, each asking if I had received the text. I was giddy! Had I escaped the iCult? It seemed I had at least one foot out the door.

Here's the thing: I still don't know if I'm getting iMessages or if I'm missing texts. I'd turn my iMessaging back on to check but I am afraid that would screw things up. I don't have time to do this again. Curiosity can't kill this iCat. I have to leave well enough alone. I have to trust the iUniverse can supersede the iCloud.

Besides that, I love my new phone and tablet. I can't say one bad thing about this phone. I do love an Android. Take that, iCult.....

....here's hoping that I really was able to check out of iHotel iCalifornia. Time and texts will tell.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Blue. Bird.

This is a quickly little blog of synchronicity, of getting a sign when asked, of a bird who is blue.

Last week, the wife and I were talking about when we would "do" what we needed to do in regards to Lucy's quickly failing health. Although I knew the answer was "now," the wife was yet to be convinced. Who can blame her? 

The wife said, "I need a sign. Let's ask the Universe for a sign."

Without thinking, and certainly with no reason to say anything of the thought, I blurted out, "I will see a blue bird."

To clarify, I didn't mean a bluebird. I meant a bird that happened to be blue.

I said it and I was done with it.  Without further comment, I went to sleep.

The next morning, I got up and started my day. I had totally forgotten about the whole blue bird thing. I started my coffee, then realized I had to send out three birthday cards lest they be late. I pulled out the pile of cards.

Wouldn't you know it that the first card I pulled out was this:


I don't even remember buying this card. It had to months and months ago. I couldn't believe it.

I looked at the wife, then held up the card. The Universe had answered. Thus, I made the call to schedule an appointment with the vet. After all, there is no arguing with the Universe.

Blue birds of one sort or another spent the day showing up in my life that day. Heck, a blue bird sprung out of the Christmas carol I happened to be singing. It seemed rather telling that, "gone away is the blue bird" The less I looked, the more I found. I assured the Universe I heard its answer.

Not surprisingly, I continue to see blue birds. I thank her for the signs. I figure she'll keep showing up this way. In fact, she spent the week after her death bombarding me with blue birds.

What a great, great thing. Who can be sad when there are blue birds all over the place?

Today, I will be happier than a BLUE bird with a french fry.....

....you know, our little blue bird of a dog loved french fries. Just sayin.'





Tuesday, December 09, 2014

Ode to a Party Pup

This is NOT a maudlin, tear-producing post, so no worries. This is a happy tribute to a party pup who had to exit life a wee bit too early.

 Words of wisdom from Lucy, Bark of Poteidaia:

Start each day with an obnoxious squeaky toy and don't stop squeaking until (1) the squeaky is broken; (2) the squeaky is removed from the toy and then broken; (3) some mean human comes along and takes the squeaky toy because he/she cannot tolerate one more minute of squeakiness.

If someone takes your squeaky toy, don't let it get you down. Wait until  the squeaky toy is put back in the toy pile...wait....wait...go get it and start squeaking again. Pure bliss.

Never miss the opportunity to give a kiss. Heck, kiss them twice. Kiss them when they are not looking. Kiss with reckless abandon.

Never say no to a treat. Never. Life is too short to say no to treats. Besides, that fat, smelly dog will come over and steal it if you don't eat it, so enjoy it yourself. The fat, smelly dog doesn't need another treat.

Tolerate your human friends when they do stupid things like put you in costumes, put boots on your feet, try to feed you healthy treats, don't take you along when they go get ice cream, insist on yet another posed photo with the fat, smelly dog. They can't help it. They know not what they do.

Run. Run when you can, while you still can. If you can't run, skip. If you can't skip, trot. If you can't trot, hang out with the fat, smelly dog.

Stick with the underdog. Who doesn't love an underdog? If you can't stick with the underdog, stick with the under bite. There is nothing cuter than a shih tzu with an under bite.

Eat waffles. Right, grandma? It's even better if the waffles are made by said grandma. You can't have a bad day when you eat a waffle.

Say hi to everyone you meet while on a walk. You might be the bright spot of someone's day. Say hi enthusiastically!

Remember that ice cream and whipped cream are the food of the gods. It pays to know that DQ gives out "pup cups" and Bucks of Star give out "pup lattes." Get in the car and get thee to the drive through.

Use your cute face, sparkling personality and/or your under bite to get your way. Don't be relegated to the floor--sparkle that personality and get your place on the couch.

Behave as much as you can....progress, not perfection. If you accidentally chew the computer cord, don't forget to use that charm and personality. If you roll in raccoon poop, look innocent and apologetic. If you eat raccoon poop, look even more apologetic and remind your human you're behaving the best you can. If you run down the street when you are not supposed to be running down the street, run fast and then behave as best you can, using a kiss and charm to avoid issue upon return home.

Ask for forgiveness, not permission. See above. Oops! Did I just eat the fat, smelly dog's treat? Did I just jump up on the back of the couch? Did I just rip up that box of Kleenex? Gosh, I'm sorry. I thought it was for me--I didn't know. I'll ask next time.

If that doesn't work, look adorable.

When all else fails, use your pouty face. Who says dogs don't have emotions?

If you throw up, it is best not to eat your own vomit. Don't let the fat, smelly dog eat it, either.

When offered a ride to where you are going, take it. While you are at it, see if you can stick your head out the window. If they say no to sticking your head out the window, enjoy the ride anyway.

Keep it simple. Smile, wink, squeak, kiss, eat, pee, poop.

Celebrate life. Squeak a squeaky. Eat a waffle. Kiss a sad person. Kiss a happy person. Run, walk, skip, jump. Don't just sit on the couch. Celebrate and live life.

Thank you, Lucy, Bark of Poteidaia. You were an amazing dog that brought us so much joy. We celebrate life and eat ice cream in your honor. Kiss kiss!




Thursday, December 04, 2014

Recuse Me

I had the pleasure of being called to Jury Duty this week. I barely lived through the time I was the foreman of a jury for a week-long medical malpractice trial, so  I was not looking forward to this second chance of fulfilling my civic duty. I decided I would pray to the Baby Jesus, reminding him how awful my previous jury duty had been, asking him to keep me out of the jury box. In the spirit of the holidays, I begged: "Baby Jesus--please spare me!"

When we were finally seated in the jury waiting area, I took a gander at my peers. There were about 85 or 100 of us. I have to say--it was an older crowd, mainly white males with a smattering of this or that mixed in. I knew a few of the people in the room, which gave me pause. It's either a really small world...or, I know a lot of people....or, the Universe thought I needed to see these people for this reason or another. I pulled out my laptop and started working on a project. (Can you believe they actually allow laptops, smart phones, iPads and the like in the jury waiting room? I read it in the directions but thought they were kidding. They weren't!) A young lady approached the table and asked if anyone was sitting there. I smiled and invited her to sit down. I never stopped typing but I did smile.

I pretty much ignored everyone and everything for the first 45 minutes. Hey, that's how I roll.

I eventually decided to buy a bottle of water, so I got up, meandered around and then sat back down. I originally had planned on NOT drinking anything because I didn't want to have to pee while sitting in the court room. I started getting a head ache, mainly because I hadn't drunk anything all morning, so I gave in to my thirst. As I sat down, I made eye contact with the young lady--the international sign that I am now willing to speak, I guess. She quickly made small talk--very polite, obviously about 12 years old and hilariously naive.

She thought it would be GREAT to be on a jury! I didn't have the heart to crush her like a bug. I smiled and nodded.

I learned all about her in less than 15 minutes...I got to see photos of her new baby and her family dog. I learned what she did for a living, about who was watching her baby, how she had always wanted to sit on a jury. It was all fine until......

....she stopped and asked me: "Do you have any grandchildren?"

I choked on my water.

I guess we skipped kids and went straight to grandchildren. Ouch!

No, no I do not have any grandchildren. After I stopped choking, I turned my computer around so she could see a photo of our dogs in their Christmas outfits.

Grandchildren. Sheesh. I knew it was going to be a very long day.

Fast forward to the court room. The judge, four lawyers and one defendant were standing when we paraded in to the room. It was a pretty big parade. Thankfully, I got to sit by one of the people I knew. I made sure I wasn't smacking my gum (no gum in the court room), that my phone was off (which wasn't a problem because I forgot my phone at home) and that the computer was tucked away. The judge started talking about this or that, assuring us how lucky and honored we should feel.

It was then he indicated they were picking a jury for a murder trial.

I shit myself.

A murder trial? I don't have time for a murder trial! It's the holidays, I'm starting vacation in a week or two, I don't want to hear about a murder. I certainly don't want to sit in judgement of someone. Oh dear god. I think I made an audible gasp when he said that.

Imagine how excited I was when he indicated it would probably be a two-week trial.

Imagine how excited I was when he spoke about how the press was allowed to be in the courtroom and that they'd be filming the proceedings.

You know who was excited? That young lady who asked me if I had grandchildren. She was beaming. I swear, had it been remotely appropriate, she would've been jumping up and down in her seat, yelling "pick me! pick me!"

I sank low in my chair and hoped for the best. I felt like I was at the Reaping.

I'll spare you all the details. Suffice to say: (1) people are full of shit and say whatever they have to say to get out of jury duty; and, (2) I didn't get called up to the jury box until 4 PM, when there were only SIX of us left.

I had started to count my chickens before they hatched. I couldn't believe it I had made it that far. The odds weren't in my favorite by 4 PM. They were now interviewing for alternates. They only needed one more. With only six of us, it seemed rather possible they'd call my name.

I sat straight up in the chair, my computer bag between my feet, my winter coat on my lap. I told him I was starting vacation on such and such day. He confirmed with the lawyers that they'd be done by then, so that was a moot point. It then seemed rather unusual because the judge started with a different line of questioning with me than he had with the others. Maybe it was because it was so late in the day. Maybe it was because I was sitting up straight and looking him straight in the eye. Maybe he was wondering if I had grandchildren. Maybe he had been asking these questions all along and I hadn't been paying attention.

He read aloud the things I had written on my jury slip. He confirmed I had a master's degree, that I had served as an expert witness during a trial way back when and that I had testified for a client. He clarified I knew a police officer (this was relevant as various police officers would be testifying).

It was then he asked me about my previous jury duty experience: "I see you were the foreman of a jury in 19blah blah blah." I agreed that I had been the foreman and tightened the grip on my coat. He then asked me the question of which I prayed he would ask.

He asked me about my experience.

My answer? "While I was proud to do my civic duty, being the foreman of that jury was one of the worst experiences of my entire life and I never want to be the foreman of a jury again."

I don't think they saw this answer coming. Everyone else had noted that they had a good experience as a juror or that others they knew had found it to be a fulfilling experience. Not me. I felt my disdain and disgust start to seep out. I couldn't hide it. It was seeping out and I couldn't plug it up.

I answered his questions about the happening, noting that people were screaming at each other and that even the Bailiff had his hands full. I reiterated that I never wanted to be a foreman again.

He looked at me and stated, "but, we can't promise that won't happen. You could end up the foreman of this jury."

I'm not sure what I muttered but I know I was sticking to my guns. I wouldn't do it again. No, Nope. Nada. I think I said I'd do what I'd have to do but I was not going to be the foreman.

I didn't dare look around. I'm not sure what I would have seen. I didn't want to know.

It was then one of the lawyers got up to ask me some questions. I was hoping he'd ask me about the bumper stickers on my car (they had asked everyone else that) or about how I knew if someone was lying (I wanted to say a whole room full of liars had been there today). He didn't really seem into it. I was rather disappointed. Something was wrong.

He didn't ask me very many questions before telling me in a very polite fashion that I was recused. Recused! I was being deemed unqualified to sit on the jury because of possible conflict of interest or possibly because of a lack of impartiality.

I wasn't going to be on this jury!

I didn't have to fake my shock as it was real. I didn't see that coming, just as they hadn't seen my reaction to being a foreman. I was unqualified! Had it been appropriate, I would have SPRINTED out of that room.

This morning, I saw a news blurb about how the trial had started yesterday. There they were--the lawyers, the defendant, the judge. You know what I didn't see?

ME! How awesome is that? I was nowhere near that courtroom.

Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. I owe you one. I'll be nice at church this week....

....you know, I'd like to wait a few more years before anyone asks me about grandchildren--could you please work on that?

Thanks.
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