Posts in category Suckage

Dammit Gandolfini! Why’d you have to go and die?

June 19, 2013 Written by Lisa

tony_soprano Well, I’m so sad. I love, love, love me some James Gandolfini regardless of the role but yes, especially as Tony Soprano.

And 51 is way too young (hell, younger than me!) to shuffle off.

I was a Sopranos fan from the get-go, having been raised in a die-hard Italian family. I recognized the words they used and it felt like I was ‘at home’ watching it, you know?

I haz a sad.

(I don’t usually feel this way over celebrities except for a certain someone who shall (never!) remain nameless, Mr. Cook.)

But JG was on my shortlist of dudes I dig along with Eddie Izzard, and Jon Stewart. Please stop taking my crushes from me, Universe.

Sending a silent prayer to his family for peace. Deaths are so hard when you know they’re coming but when you have no idea and you had no time to say goodbye or anything — hard. Hard. Hard. Hard.

Poops.

Blah blah blah

A righteous rant

February 3, 2013 Written by Lisa

get a brain moransI’ve gotten myself into trouble by wading into the political waters with the few friends I have who identify as right-wing leaning.

And apparently, I’m pretty annoying with my little liberal tendencies because I’ve been asked to stop posting about it by some of those people.

But the more the fear gets ratcheted up by those who make money off it, the more I cannot stand it. I see people who I know to be loving, giving individuals make such ignorant (of the facts) comments and it makes me wonder: what are you afraid of?

Just this morning, someone I used to be friends with long ago posted some vile shit on Facebook about claiming everyone on food stamps and welfare as their dependents on the tax forms. (It was some insipid joke sent around via email, I’m sure.)

She ignored everything I wrote about safety nets we ALL pay into as part of the social compact we agree to as citizens of the United States and proceeded to go off about what my views are on gun control. (WTF? Okay.) I said no need for ANYONE to have military grade assault weapons so yes to banning those (again) and to enforce what rules we do have about background checks (which we are not doing) etc.

That elicited her comment that clearly I want to chip away at the Second Amendment. Uh. no. I think she doesn’t understand why and for what reason the SA was created so I shared some background on that. (“well regulated militia” = National Guard and none of it was written giving permission to overthrow the government.)

I said, given her views about social safety nets, I expect she will also be foregoing Social Security and Medicare when the time comes for her to participate.

Another friend of hers chimed in about the perception that those on food stamps are lazy and don’t want to work and pointed out that a good percentage of food stamp recipients are the elderly, those single parents who are working but not earning enough to feed their kids etc. And that friend confided that she herself had taken advantage of this safety net a couple times when she could not find a job (but was able and desperately willing to work.)

My mom, who was on every government program she could apply for, was one of those who thought that SHE was entitled (because, after all (she’d tell you) she WORKED for it) but not others. (Others = African-Americans, to her)

Underneath all of that was the fear of “there’s not enough for me and someone (aka: a black person) is going to get what’s mine.

She even said as much. Truly, she did.

Fear is all it is. And those in power take advantage of that base instinct and prey on people. I can’t stand to see that.

My friend said that there’s too much abuse in the system (food stamps, medicaid, etc.) and while I’ll agree that there is abuse in ANY system like that, the answer is not to scrap it all and start over and especially so when so many people depend on it just to survive.

What I thought was shitty was her “joke” – if you think abuse is rampant and a part of the problem, what can YOU personally do to help change that? Sharing a vile “joke” that denigrates millions of people is not the best answer, IMO.

I was so angry about it, I whipped myself into a frenzy and yelled at Duty for something totally unrelated. Why do I feel so strongly about this kind of thing?

(I know this wasn’t the most coherent of posts but I think you get my drift about being angry at what’s being done to keep people in fear and believing things that are not true. Grrr.)

BitchLog, General Blatherings, High Drama, Political

The fun never stops!

January 28, 2013 Written by Lisa

I’m really not sure what the heck is going on in my life that the last month or two has been so tumultuous but that trend seems to be continuing. A visit to the (studiously avoided) dentist last week revealed that my teeth continue to get progressively worse.

And now, a short trip through my dental history

When I was about 8 or so, I had an accident on my bike caused by attempting to look cool and using no hands to steer the bike. It ended in blood, stitches and a tooth that had to be pulled. Ever after, my teeth were kind of a mess.

Mom and Dad did everything ‘rents are supposed to do and took me to an orthodontist where I was told that I needed major braces (we’re talking head gear, night gear, the works). What 13 year old girl wants that news? None. And especially not this one.

As it was coming closer to the D-date, my father’s health (never very good anyway) took a turn for the worse and my mom was very preoccupied with taking care of him. I was often left to my own devices and so it was with this. I remember her asking me “Do you want this or not?” and of course, I chose NOT. Et voila! No braces, no hassle.

Ya reaps what ya sows

Many years later, I regret that decision with all my heart. My teeth were never very healthy, my gums less so. I did this and that, had teeth pulled and adjusted but learned to live with pretty unattractive teeth. Most of the time, I was used to them but now and again, I’d take a good look and shock myself. In fact, it’s a big part of why I didn’t want to shoot video for PI – I am that self-conscious about it.

About three years ago, on a routine visit to the nice dentist here, I learned that allllll manner of dental work had to be done. (“You didn’t win the teeth lottery” he gently told me.) Pull this one, get a bridge here, implants there, blah blah blah.

And in typical Lisa fashion, I decided to ignore it because what a pain in the ass, right?

Well, waiting has (as usual) done me no favors.

I learned last week that at least three teeth have to be pulled and where they’re located will make it hard to place a workable bridge. There’s always implants, gum resurfacing and what they call “mouth rehabilitation”. YEY! Rehab to the tune of about $30,000 and a lot of yukky visits and drillings and stuff.

Dentures1

The other option is …. (wait for it) dentures. Yep, pull all the crap teeth and give me a brand new set along with realigning my jaw in some way. Isn’t that fun? Gosh, I think so!

(SIGH)

As you can imagine, I’m not too excited about any of those options but because I waited, my choices are between rock and a hard place.

The denture option is probably the best of it all because no more trying to save unsaveable teeth only to have to go this route anyway after spending a butt-load of money on it. And it will be the best choice for my poor gums.

Still, I haz a sad.

It’s by my own sucky choices motivated out of fear of pain and general feelings of uckiness with teeth stuff that I’m here. If I could go back in time, I’d get those braces for sure.

Until I’ve learned to ably go back and forth across the time/space continuum, however, I’m stuck with having all the teeth in my head removed, replaced with pretty new dentures (and I’ll be able to let go of the self-consciousness so that’s a big WIN) and endure all the ick in between.

Bright side, baybee. Bright side.

BitchLog, Blah blah blah, General Blatherings, High Drama, Pretty Sure Ive gone insane

Kibbens and why you shouldn’t drink 5 White Russians

January 6, 2013 Written by Lisa

Dear FIVE readers, (waves to Jennifer W!),

As it’s officially January 6th now (as I write this), I feel I can safely say I’m done with what turned out to be the suck-assiest (not a word – yet!) holiday ever.

Stuff you know

Part 1: Father-in-law leaves this mortal coil suddenly.

Part 2: Aborted attempt at Christmas Eve followed by foul pasta.  Sadness ensues.

Stuff you don’t

Kahlua, vodka and cream is a recipe for disaster when you have five.

Kahlua, vodka and cream is a recipe for disaster when you have five.

Part 3: Once again spending NYE with pals Kim and Sal @ a swanky dinner/dancing place. Last year, Kim was down with strep but Sal made her come anyway. Suffice to say no one was happy about that, least of all Kim who was at the doctor’s office at dawn on NY day.

This year, we buy tickets so if someone in the Kim/Sal team is ill, they are not forced to go by the spouse (coughSALcough) who doesn’t like to waste money.

All this is well and good, yes?

Yours truly, when pondering what to drink for the evening, decides (wrongly, so it turns out) to enjoy a white russian or 7.  For those of you not in the know, a white russian is Kahlua (coffee flavored alcoholic sugar), vodka and cream.   MMM! Tastes like an iced coffee.  YUM! Let’s have more of these.  On a somewhat empty stomach.

And now you can imagine the rest of the story.

In case you cannot, here are the highlights: Duty walks me to bathroom as I’m not able to get there on my own.  While trying not to die in the stall, become sweat drenched and close to passing out.  (As an aside, this is not quite how I planned to celebrate my new year!)  Kim comes in twice asking if I’m okay.  I respond “Yes, I’m fine” as I inch closer to (what feels like) death.

Finally stop sweating and realize I have to emerge from stall at some point, I come out. Kim helps me out to where Duty is waiting.  They help me into the car.  I am barely conscious.

(Should I leave out the part about having to stop on the side of the road for you know what reason? Yes, I thought so.)

Get home, wobble inside and upstairs where I collapse (sweaty and half conscious) into bed.

Here’s the diagnosis:  Since having gastric bypass surgery many years ago, I cannot handle lots of sugar on an empty stomach. It causes all kinds of insulin to kick in and soon (within 2 hours) I’ve hit rock bottom on my sugar.  I can usually tell when it’s coming and am able to avert it by eating something (carby or with sugar to absorb the insulin).  However, the alcohol dulled my ability to do that and by the time I hit the bathroom, I was at a place you really don’t want to be with blood sugar issues. (aka: crashing hard) It’s happened to me before (very infrequently) and the sweating and shakes are followed by the intense desire to lie down and die.

Feel like death on NY day and miss big family fun (again!) at Godmommy’s house.

Next year, it’s Kim’s turn again to be sick.

More stuff you don’t know (unless you’re my friend on FB)

 

The saga of Mrs. Stinkersons has come to a sad end.

The late, great Mrs. Stinkersons

The late, great Mrs. Stinkersons

Mrs. Stinkersons (aka: Samantha aka Kibbens) was the little ten year old cat I adopted back in November as a rescue.  She had all kinds of undiagnosed medical issues (heart murmur, kidney stuff and of course, her stinky-ass ears from tumors and stuff) and while a sweetie, was totally …. odd.  She hung out in my closet, coming out for the occasional treat, hissings at Brogan and to snag lovies from me.

Loooong story short: Wonderful cat vet and I realized that she wouldn’t be around a whole long time so we tried to make her as comfortable as possible.  When she fell down the steps a couple times because the tumors were messing with her ears and she was in pain, I thought we were going to have help her transition on Christmas Eve but she seemed to make a turn-around.

A short-lived one, as it turned out.  On Wednesday (last) she came out of her closet and couldn’t move her back legs well. I remember that from Lucie and was worried she had a stroke.  It was like her legs kept collapsing on her. I can’t handle seeing pets in pain so I called the vet and bundled her up and off we went. I knew she wasn’t well when she only yeowled a little bit in the car and then went to sleep. She usually howls the whole way.

So, it was time to send my little Kibbens over the Rainbow Bridge.  She was only with me for less than two months but she was such a unique little kitty, I won’t forget her (or the little collar she wore that had hearts on it. I saved that.)

Final total for holiday season:

Dads: minus one

Kittens: minus one

Actual Christmas Eve spent with family: minus one although we did have a re-do (it wasn’t the same)

New Year midnight joy: minus one

Parties at Godmommy’s house: minus one

Ways I am glad to see 2012 end? 567  

 

BitchLog, Blah blah blah, General Blatherings, Pretty Sure Ive gone insane, What's that about?

A Christmas for the books, Kids

December 26, 2012 Written by Lisa
Bah Humbug!

Bah Humbug!

Dear Three Readers of Mine,

Well, this has been a Christmas to remember but not the kind you think back on fondly.  More like the kind you think back on and say “oh man! Let’s not have another one of those anytime soon!”

It started with this

Wednesday December 19th, my father-in-law passed away very suddenly.  A brain hemmorhage caused him to go unconscious and he never came back from it.   Duty and his brother and two sisters were there by his bedside when his wife agreed to remove the life support.  There’s an enormous amount of family drama that I won’t go into; suffice it to say everyone acted for the highest good and there was a peacefulness through all of it.

My father-in-law was a nice old man who was kind to me, loved saying “Well, I’ll be darned” to everything and had the uncanny ability to work the name of the old family dog (Prince) into pretty much any conversation.  Duty was the only one of the four kids who was close to his dad in the latter years (again, 10000 reasons why the others weren’t) and while it hit him hard, it was easier than I expected it to be.

Then it went to this

The viewing and funeral was pretty calm with one exception: in the middle of the final song at the service (“Old Rugged Cross”), FIL’s good friend Blackie passed out.  He was in poor health anyway and probably shouldn’t have tried to come.  As they were singing, three people in the back stood up and yelled “CALL 911!!” and I’m thinking “Oh dear God, Blackie has died right at Bob’s funeral!”

Fortunately, there were a lot of firefighters and paramedics there (service runs in the Duty family) and they were able to get Blackie stable before the official help arrived.  It wasn’t anything too serious – he just got overheated.  The service was LONG and I think sitting still for that period of time got to him.  Glad he was okay, though. That would have just been awful if he passed away right there.

It gets suckier, oh yes it does!

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BitchLog, Blah blah blah, General Blatherings, High Drama, Snowpocalypse
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