A Little South of Sanity

Wouldn’t you like to know that you were having your tattoo done at this shop?    I have to say that I am not a fan of tatoo’s and can say without hesitation that I would never get one.  I do have friends who have them, and even a husband with one, but they just aren’t my thing.  With that being said, I do respect the art and think there are some tattoo artists out there who do amazing work.    I’ve even said that if I ever got one, that I’d have one of the guys from Miami Ink do mine, but again, there are no plans there.

This is an actual shop in Mobile, AL.  I can’t imagine how these people stay in business, unless it’s selling all the junk that has gathered around their shop.   Something about it reminds me of that 70′s show called Sanford and Son.

Have you ever walked up on a conversation two people are having and wonder why you chose to walk up at that particular time? Such was the case with me a few days ago when I saw two of my neighbors talking. They are both really nice guys and JJ happens to be playmates with the dog of one of the men. I walked up, and heard them talking about vigrx plus. Immediately, I felt as though I’d walked into a private conversation. They said a few more words about it, but then quickly changed the subject. Needless to say, I was happy about that.

Later, I couldn’t help but wonder what the entire conversation was about, mostly because I’m curious by nature. I probably don’t want to know in all reality, but when I see them now, I can’t help but wonder.

I mentioned a while back that I had a little rant to do, and since I’ve been really busy, I haven’t really had the time. Right now, I’m going to take a few moments while Marcel eats lunch and before we have to get busy with other things to put my thoughts on ‘paper’ or at least the electronic version of paper.

I’ve had time to cool down about the situation and while I’m not as angry as I was then, I’m still surprised at the insanity of it all. Two weeks ago right after dinner, Marcel and I heard sirens. Within moments he said that they were on our street and that one of our neighbors must be ill. They were. I stood outside for a moment only to find myself extremely upset at the sound of the sirens from the ambulances, because all I could think of was Carol dying a couple of weeks before.

I was expecting Desere for coffee and JJ needed to go for a walk, so I headed out the door with him and she arrived at about the same time. We walked together and I noticed that almost EVERY single one of my neighbors were outside gathered around in little groups talking about what could have happened. As I walked around to another side of the area, I could see the neighbor sitting outside of her home alone, while the paramedics rushed in and out of her home. By this time there were two ambulances on the scene and a doctor, and I knew it didn’t look good.

All I could think of was Carol, and I became enraged that no one attempted to go sit with the woman. I don’t know her very well, but had Desere not been with me, I would have been by her side. Instead, people were more interested in gathering like babbling hens talking about how ‘weird’ these people are. Why? Because they both have medical issues that keep them from maybe being the same as you or I. They are different, so they are automatically ‘weird’. I was FURIOUS and felt that everyone around me was more concerned with gossiping than being human and showing a little compassion towards this woman who was alone and her life was spining out of control at that moment.

Several hours later, Marcel came inside from smoking and said to me that the hearst had left and that he was sorry but the man didn’t make it. I was so hurt for the lady. When Desere left, I walked to the woman’s house and even though I don’t know her very well, I wanted to offer my condolences. It isn’t very traditional in these parts, but I couldn’t help but grab her and give her a big hug the second I saw her. I walked with her to walk her dog in the rain and offered to help her if she needed anything. The following day I put a card with our number in her mailbox.

She’s a human being and should be treated as such. I was disgusted with the people who are my ‘so called’ neighbors who were more interested in the next piece of juicy ‘gossip’ that they forgot what it was like to be compassionate. I wonder how they would feel if the shoe was on the other foot?

A few days ago I noticed Marcel had a small spot on his back. It looked like he’d been scratching it, so I just figured he’d been bitten by something. I applied some Caladryl lotion and that was that. He didn’t mention it again, so I assumed it was better. That’s what I get for assuming.

Yesterday he mentioned that he wasn’t feeling well, and if anyone knows Marcel then they know he doesn’t play sick very well. He’s a worse sickie than I am, but then I think that is a male thing- I can’t imagine any guys are great when sick. I figured it was maybe the flu, so gave him some Motrin and sent him to bed.

He was up this morning at 4:45 and off to work, so I didn’t see him until this afternoon when he came in talking about how his side hurt. When he pulled up his shirt, I noticed that the ‘spot’ had appeared on the front and I told him that I thought he had hives. At that time, I asked him to turn around and I noticed that the spot on his back was HUGE. (baseball size) I asked him about the pain in his side and all he could tell me was that it was ‘pain’ and that he isn’t really one to differentiate between the types of pain. After thinking that it probably wasn’t the hives, I suggested that he call the doctor, because I started having the idea that it was possibly Shingles.

Of course, when I put on my doctor hat, Marcel always half heartedly rolls his eyes thinking that I’ve lost my mind. I insisted he call the doc and when he explained the situation she asked him to be there in 15 minutes. We were in and out within a half hour, and the doc confirmed it, shingles- lovely. He didn’t give him any medication, said it would go away within three weeks but that the nerves would be painful until then. Mom and I are both still a little surprised that he didn’t get anything to help keep it from getting worse, but I guess we’ll see what happens. He was in bed at 8:20 tonight, so I hope he’ll wake up feeling better. Something tellls me he won’t. Shingles- of all the things.

I opened my email after reading a bit on Fox News, only to find a ton of enticing recipes such as Beefy Onion Burger, Tuna Noodle Casserole, Beef and Mushroom Dijon, Best Ever Meatlof and One Dish Chicken and Stuffing Bake. There was also a recipe for how to consume 12,000 calories and weigh 1000 pounds by the end of the year. Ok, that last one is a lie, but I just wanted to see if you were paying attention. But since I’m on the subject of Miss Simpson, I wonder if by consuming 12,000 calories a day if she’d find herself needing a severe acne treatment? One (or at least I) would think that if a person consumes that many calories a day that acne would probably be the least of their worries, but I would also think their face would look like a battlezone after all the fat and grease they consume.

I know, I’m harping on this Simpson person, but in all the efforts that I’ve put into getting healthier so I can live longer, and seeing people that I love die in totally unrelated incidents, I just can’t imagine anyone tossing their life in the toilet like that. It bugs me, and I don’t even know this person.

I was just having my little daily dose of Fox News when I read that there is a possible deal in the making that will last through 2017 and worth 200 million dollars. Fox states that if the deal goes through with Sony records that it will mean a ten projects in the next seven years with an album of unreleased songs coming out as early as November.

Is it just me, or does anyone else find this all a little disturbing? The thing I wonder is exactly how much of that cash will the little Jackson children see and how much of it will be gobbled up by money hungry executives just trying to make a buck.

I was catching up on some of my email earlier and was surprised to see that there was almost 800 emails in my spam folder on gmail. I obvioiusly haven’t checked or cleared that folder in a while, but I thought it would be interesting to share some of the keywords that I found in that folder with a quick glance. Apparently there are several someones out there who think my name is Mike, and who think I’m interested in some sort of online gaming websites. Trust me, I am not. There are also several emails that wanted to let me know that they had an iPhone waiting for me, but I guess they didn’t get the memo that I already have an ‘eye’phone. Then there are those who are offering to help me find the love of my life, not realizing that I’m already married to him. Oh, and we can’t forget those that are offering a ‘hazardous’ sale, which leaves me to wonder if it’s so hazardous why anyone would want to be a part of it.

Sound crazy? You’re right, it is. Try looking at the topics of your own spam folder and see what kind of little tidbits you come up with, and share them here in comments.

Before I step up on my soap box, I want y’all to know that this entry may make some people mad, so if you offend easily, I suggest you don’t read any further. What I write here is my opinion, and since I’m allowed the right to express my opinion based on freedom of speech, I’m going to do just that.

I came across this article when a friend of mine on Facebook linked to it.

I am someone who has struggled with weight issues, mostly  because of my own choices.   Now, I know this person has the right to weigh 1000 pounds if she wants to, but I have to ask myself what person in their right mind would want to weigh 1000 pounds?    The key word there is ‘right mind’?    I happen to be the same age as Miss Donna Simpson of New Jersey (just in case there are any more Donna Simpson’s out there), which is 42 and when I was at my all time high (which was no where near 1000 pounds), I struggled to walk long distances, and in fact couldn’t without having to stop and rest for a while.  I walked slow, and it held others back, and at the time I didn’t think much about it, but now that I made a choice for my HEALTH, I realize just how much I used my weight to hold me back because it was easy to use it as an excuse NOT to do things.

Miss Simpson talks in the article about how she is hoping she’ll be able to weigh the 1000 pounds but that running around after her daughter could make it difficult.   Are you kidding me?   This woman has been blessed with a child and she’s afraid that chasing her around is going to mean she actually burns some of the 12,000 (yes I said 12,000) calories that she needs to consume a day to gain that kind of weight.

In addition to this being the most unhealthy thing I’ve ever seen, I have to ask myself if this woman has a death wish, because it would appear to me that anyone who WANTS to weigh 1000 pounds either has a death wish, or is mentally ill.  I can think of many other ways to have 15 minutes of fame, so I would like to think that isn’t the reason for this insane approach to life (If you call wanting to weigh 1000 pounds any sort of life, because what can you do when you weigh 100o pounds- NOTHING!)

I feel really sorry for the little girl, who won’t be able to have  mommy come to school functions, or who won’t be able to play outside with mommy, because mommy has eaten herself into oblivion and can’t spend any time with them.   Mommy reached her goal though and weighs 1000 pounds, and what a goal that is.

I can’t imagine that ANYONE truly wants to weigh 1000 pounds, and the fact that her husband/ boyfriend  is encouraging her to gain the weight makes me sick, sick, sick.    I know this sounds extremely judgemental and maybe it is, but I just don’t get it.   I think when a person chooses behavior that doesn’t affect another that’s one thing, but that little girl didn’t ask for this and if nothing else THEY deserve better.   I hope that Miss Simpson will wake up, while she still can and start making different choices for her life and for the life of her daughter. 

I’m sure she has so much more to offer in this world than being the person who weighs 1000 pounds and the one men pay to watch eat junkfood.   Sadly, I bet she’s learned to associate love with food, and because of that attention she gets from eating, it makes her want to do it even more because it’s probably the only way she feels truly loved.    Miss Simpson-  love yourself first and the rest will follow.

I’m not sure if it’s hormones, stress, me really thinking a lot about Carol or a combination of all of the above, but I’m really having a emotional sort of day. I’ve been able to get my work out done, and pretty much everything else I’d hoped to accomplish, but I’ve been struggling with a headache for the past couple of hours. I took something and so far it hasn’t helped, so maybe I’ll try to get something to eat and see if that works, or I’m going to try to lie down and see if a nap helps. At this point, anything is better than what I’m feeling now.

At least I have left over broccoli, and green beans, so all I have to do is warm a chicken breast that I have already cooked and in the freezer. Marcel is at his moms and he’ll be bringing me back a dish with white rice, but since I’m avoiding those sorts of carbs, I won’t be eating it.

Headache, be gone!

Yesterday we took JJ to the beach. It was a beautiful day- not a cloud in the sky. Yes, it was a little on the cold side, but with no wind and the sunshine on our faces it was actually perfect. A few hours later the wind started picking up, so the temps started dropping pretty quickly and we headed home. It was dinner time anyway, so it didn’t matter. Everyone had the same idea, since there were many people and puppies everywhere the eye could see.

This morning, when I looked outside, there was a blanket of white covering everything. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, I thought I was dreaming, but I wasn’t. Thankfully the temps aren’t below the freezing point, so it didn’t last for long, but I am seriously hoping this is the last of the snow for this winter season. I’m ready for spring. Since the crocus and daffodils are starting to bloom, I don’t think that Father Winter got the memo that spring was on it’s way.