One of the Tailors Did It (Yes. Thank Me. Again.)


(Why “Thank Me”? All will be revealed, my chicks.)
 
If It Wasnt For Bad Luck
 
NEW YEAR’S EVE
 
I was, of course, dateless. Possibly because I am physically repulsive and devoid of kindness or wit. But I don’t think so.

My buddy A. and I were too tired to go out on the town. We decided to wait to celebrate until the coming weekend:

We were headed for Disneyland! It would still be Christmas there until the Feast of the Epiphany (Jan. 6th). We WOULD get the Christmas we’d missed due to three bad birds.
 

Three Bad Birds

Bad? Oh, Mens, They Were Bad!


 
NEW YEAR’S DAY
 
I’m sitting at my kitchen table, typing on my table-t ( 🙂 ).

“RINNNGG!!”

(What do you think of my super new ringtone from InMyEye-toons?)

It’s a Tons o’Tuna dude.

MY goal? To set up a meet with him. HIS goal? To phone-flirt.

I don’t have time for this! Chats and phone calls tell you nothing until AFTER you’ve met. Cut to the chase, boy!

As he’s telling me all about himself and himself, and himself, and throwing in a few questions, and sometimes waiting for part of my answers,
 
Blah Blah Blah Speech Balloons
 
I have plenty of time to finish what I’ve been typing.

Suddenly, I notice my cell’s about to die–I’d better plug this puppy in!

The I-plug is in another room (I.-e. ( 😉 ) the plug with the I-cord attached to the I-jack for the rapidly-fading I-device). I stand up and take a step toward The Power of I.

***

“CRACK!!

***

I am lying full length on the floor.
I didn’t trip. After only 45 minutes at the tablet, my entire left leg has fallen entirely asleep. That CRACK was the sound of a homophone.
 
I have a post of limericks I wrote at work one bored day decades ago. One of them goes like this:

The woman named Barbara Taylor
Had a fling with a globe-trotting sailor,
But he nine months at sea,
And poor Barbara T.
Found her gob-stopper proven a failor.

 

Future Sailor Onesie

A gob-stopper is a giant hard-candy ball. “Gob” is slang for “sailor”.


 
Now, that limerick has a sequel:
 
The woman named Barbara Taylor,
Had her dress taken out by a tailor,
But when fitting her slip,
Her foot it did slip,
Her bone that was broken’s called “talar”.

 
I’m lying there on my floor (across two floors, actually), staring at my now-bent glasses flung under the tree.
 
Floors-Eye View Bent Glasses & Tree Skirt

Actual Floors-Eye View


 
I’m feeling some…significant pain. Pretty certain I broke my ankle.

Tuna-Dude is still dronin’ on. We’re on speaker phone, mind you—at full I-volume.

I just CRASHED onto the floor, but this dude is acting like nothing happened.
 
I have no idea
 
With Herculean effort, I suppress the two words of Italian I normally resort to in these circumstances.

As is my wont [usual habit], I do not want…
Anyone to know, any pain to show…
(Typical of abused kids)

So I go on saying “Uh-huh”, and “Yuh”…
As I crawl all fours, on across two floors…

Get some ice to treat (“rattle, rattle”)…
My now-swelling feet (“ziplock bag crackle”)…

That’s because one foot,
Doesn’t rhyme so goot…

And the dude drones on. He is so, like, GONE.

Seriously. He doesn’t notice a thing as I hop down the hall to the bedroom and get into bed. I finally get off the phone with this Person I Will Never Ever EVER Date.

Two hours of ice later, a distinct-edged silver-dollar-sized swelling rising kneeward, I decide an E/R visit is in order.
 

Broken Ankle Foot Bruise

Actual Ow.


 
I know I should put no weight on the thing, but if I call for an ambulance, protocol is to take me to the nearest facility—not the competent one.

Bugger-All Institution‘s E/R,   BIER,   almost killed me in 2013. (Yes, literally.) I choose instead to drive myself to Justifiably Excellent’s E/R. It saved my life in 2013. (Yes, literally.)

***

I walk down three sets of stairs to my car:
“Ow.” “Ow.” “Ow.” (Not for each set–For each step.)

I drive up to the E/R entrance. As soon as I pull up, a lone security guard turns his back on me (yes—literally). When I call out to him “Where do I park?”, he walks away.

I step down from my mini-SUV (“Ow.”), walk over through the double doors, limping badly (“Ow”, “Ow”,”Ow”…I think you’ve got it now), gimp painfully up to the desk, and say:

Me: “I think my ankle is broken. Can you tell me where to park?”
Desk Dude: (pointing directly at the ceiling) “Over there.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”
Desk Dude: (pointing to a light fixture) “That way.”

Me: “Um…Can you tell me something like ‘the northwest corner of this-and-that streets’?”
Desk Dude: (pointing right) “Turn left. It’s next to the bank.”

Me: “Uhhh…I don’t know where the bank is. Turn left where?”
Desk Dude: (shrugging) “Park in the street.”

Me: “Are you serious?”
Desk Dude: “I don’t know what else to say.”

Clearly.
 
I have no idea
 
I park a quarter-mile away.

Let’s skip the long, painful walk from my car to the E/R.

FINALLY I’m in the E/R. Let’s get me out of there quickly, too, shall we? Short version: No ice is offered, no splint is applied. I’ve already expertly Ace-bandaged myself. An X-ray is taken; I am told I have only a sprain.

DAY AFTER NEW YEAR’S DAY:

“RINNGGG!!”

E/R: “Miss Outlier? We made an error. Your ankle IS broken.”

This time, when I pull up to the double doors, a valet is waiting to park my car. I am told that a valet always parks the cars of ALL patients self-driving to the E/R.

All patients but the one you all need to thank.

A plaster splint is applied to my ankle and calf, surrounded with a double layer of Ace bandages.

Tra-la, tra-lay, back home, away!

7:00 PM, THAT SAME DAY

I remove my wooden walking shoe to go to bed. The E/R’s re-wrap of my Ace bandage now looks like this:
 

ER Ace Wrap

Babe’s Blue Ox Over There Could Have Done Better


 
Whaaat??? The plaster splint beneath the bandage is still sopping wet. The plaster was left with too much water, and the splint must be replaced.

Tra-la, tra-lay, to the E/R, away!

As I limp through the double doors for the third time in 24 hours, another patient comes through with me. Coincidentally, she limps up to the desk and announces “I think my ankle is broken.”

SHE is seated immediately with a bag of ice.
 
Clearly-Irked Young Boy
 
The Weekend After New Year’s Day

Pressure, I later learn, from the-poorly-shaped second splint causes me unending…discomfort. No Disneyland.

A. and I do NOT get our Christmas or New Year’s celebration.
 
No Fun Allowed
 
You people d#mn well better be thanking me NOW. By putting my best foot forward as your bad luck magnet on the very first day of this new year, I have now consecrated your entire year with whatever good fortune comes your way.
 

Three ER Wristbands

My Consecutive E/R Wristbands.


 
They say “Good things, they come in three”,
But you can’t prove that truth by me,
While you all seem to get good luck,
I’m ass-fault-ed by life’s dump-truck.

 
This post is NOT funny. I am decidedly grumpy.
 
I Has a Sad Kitteh
 
I would go out and kick something, but I don’t have a leg to stand on.
 
Balancing Duck

But Once I Regain My Balance, Look Out!


 
And that, children, is how this Babe celebrated New Year’s!
 
ADDENDUM

It is extremely difficult to achieve a fracture of the ankle’s talar bone–a key bone which supports all your body’s weight. It is done, typically, only by male athletes at the top of their game, such as professional snowboarders, or by falling from a great height–leaping tall buildings in a single bound, or skydiving without a chute, perhaps–or by being inside an accordioned car in an accident. I fractured mine by standing up. But I like to think I stood up athletically.

The great news is that while the vast majority of talar fractures require surgery, pins, a cast, and months of recovery, mine is minor:

No cast; it’s moot:
The “break”, mere chip 🙂
For foot, a boot,
For pain, a quip.
 

Metal Knee Child Drawing

I’m Happy I Have My Own Two Legs, Y’All.


 

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56 Comments

  1. OMG, Babe! My pointer hovered over the “like” icon because there is so much not to like. But you tell it so remarkably well – I laughed and hooted and for that, I do thank you. Now, please, have a great REST of the year!

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  2. Thank you a dump-truck-full for your good wishes for my changed fortune. But care you not a fig for the consequences to the rest of humanity? Or is it your position that the average non-cursed individual bears enough natural good ju-ju to compensate them for the loss? (of their good luck boost which the rubber-band effect of my bad luck normally provides)

    I am happy, happy at that “laughed and hooted”. Thank you, Maggie! This time, if told well, I can take little credit, for this piece had major editorial assistance. My friend Joey had some helpful input, but the real reveal came as I was reading the “finished” version to my sister Meg: I put BOTH of us to sleep.

    In future, I will read all pieces aloud as if to a real person. Better: or to a Chihuahua who needs to be let outside. (or to a Babe after a dinner out in Riverside? 😉 “OH, NO, SHE DINT! 😮 ” )

    A. was a huge help, also! My intro was so comfusing (a most-appropriate typo 🙂 ) no-one would have read the rest of the piece.

    I’m extremely grateful for the help and patience of my friends. At the same time, I am proudest when I write on my own solid, strong pieces. “Raven” (the piece before this) and “Epitaph (about my mom–I like the entire”Mommy Hyde” series) I’m most proud of in this regard.

    (Wow. And I accused Tuna Dude of blathering!)

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    • It’s pain meds. Blame the blather on the meds. 😉

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      • Totally, dudette! Too bad I won’t take any on top of the meds I already take daily for the lupus and Behcet’s and migraine… But the pain… OH, the PAIN! (There ain’t much by now, really.)

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  3. For goodness’ sake, Babe, that’s the good ER?

    Yeah, stay away from Tuna Dude. He’s a tad self-involved.

    Heal that bone above your heel, athletic you.

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    • They really did save my life once, Mark, so I won’t say much against them. And Other Ankle Gal got the proper response, so it is probably just my usual special luck that caused my set of circumstances. Those who know me know how often I have heard these words–and how painful it is every time: “This has never happened to ANYONE else!”

      I was…a tad unfair to Tuna Dude. He is def. in his own zone, and too Big Lebowski for me, but I outtalk anyone, myself–he seemed nice enough.

      You scoff (with me) at “athletic”, but my ankle muscles are super-strong from all the walking I do, including hills, and that may have HELPED break the bone–by applying greater force when the ankle went sideways as I collapsed. I THINK that contributes with snowboarders’ breaks. Hey–you’re the sportswriter in the heart of Snowboard Central–am I right about those breaks? If so, nice payoff for my exercise But maybe my recovery will go faster ’cause of my better shape, too 🙂

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      • I scoff not, athletic Babe. I am a walker of note, too. I hope your superbly develped ankle muscles indeed speeds the healing process.

        And the fact that Tuna Guy talked through your crash and break, no, you were not a tad too anything.

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  4. I can never decide if you’re writing a comedy or a tragedy because I’m wincing and laughing at the same time with tears for both. Poor Babe. You are a bad luck magnet, and it’s just not fair. Maybe Tuna Dude deserves a day or two in your life? lol
    Seriously, I hope you’re doing okay and feeling better. xxoo

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    • Doing well. Thank you, Grandmalin.

      No, it is not fair. And yes, this is not a bad luck streak. This is my typical life, for most of my life. Those who first meet me think, at first, I exaggerate. Or that I act in ways which invite disasters to befall me.

      In some cases, the latter is true, in that my abuse-reared unconscious has proven adept at leading me toward self-defeating choices even while my conscious believes I have weighed all options logically and arrived at the wisest decision possible.

      But most of the time, sh#t just happens. To me. Almost daily. And folks around me start to notice.

      Some back away because they’re afraid it is catching. Some back away because all those popular improve-your-life books tell you to steer clear of negativity. And a tiny handful stick around. Those are my friends.

      (That buncha’ losers! You would not believe the bad luck they have!)

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  5. RR

     /  2015/01/10

    Goodness me!

    I clicked the old “like” for the telling of the tale not for the circumstances under which the story come together. But we cannot always have perfect situation bringing about inspiration. Right?

    Perhaps the celebratory catastrophes will make way for a calamity free year ahead? Especially since you took on the hardships of humanity!

    So you know you are not alone in the “sh#t happens” arena, I split my most favourite pair of pants in a completely unmendble way, at work, in front of our new DM yesterday at work. Not in the back or the lunchroom. But out on the floor. When I squatted to put some pants away on a low shelf. 😳

    All the best and feel better!

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    • Kee-riss-mas, Rebecca!! We are soulmates!! Sisters!! How awful for you!

      Please know that I cringed completely and totally. Before I laughed. (Oh, no, tell me no!!) Yes, I did laugh, like those whom I don’t respect laugh at “fail” videos where folks get extremely embarrassed or badly hurt (mild embarrassment, okay). But I was laughing, I swear, in wry empathy-recognition of the pain.

      Heading to your place after I get done with my “walk” (gimp). Are you going to blog about this, I wonder?

      Thank you for your kind wishes for my coming year. Regarding such miracles, I have the faith of a mortared mustard seed. 😉

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  6. There is only one thing to say: Thank you. From the bottom of my ankles, thank you. Please I hope that doesn’t wrankle you.
    And further, there is only one way to describe people like you: D#mned. You are plain and simply D#mned. But with your D#mned brain and D#mned wit you manage to turn D#mned into D#mned funny. I know that it’s really not funny, but there you have it. So yes, thank you, a thousand d#mned times, thank you. D#med if I do.

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  7. No matter how d#mned I y#m, I can’t deny the fact that you THANKED me! Right now! You THANKED me!!

    Far from wrankled, I am touched,
    You have no idea how much;
    Although I know I’m d#mned for naught,
    Your thanking counts; What count’s the thought.

    Thank you, Stephanie. A tear almost formed. It would have finished doing so, but one of my horns was itching, and that distracted me.

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  8. Ohh that almost impressed me that a tear almost formed, so sorry that gratitude aggravates your horns.

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    • Nothing clever. I just returned here to read the remarkably clever 3-stanza verse I posted to you earlier, and see that it is evaporated into the Babe-luck ether. Peeerrrrfect. sigh.

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      • It is perfect, OB, just perfect. You are the bomb. I agree with Barbara, that you should publish in hard print, however after reading MR’s ordeal that may not be all that glamorous or financially rewarding. But in every respect you are worthy of acclaim and wish you rewards of your efforts.

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        • Oh, my. You are now the fourth person to have told me this. Two were editors offering to help me. The first published her own book shortly after, bearing content similar to that of the content she had been offering to publish–hmmm. The second, a current accomplished author/blogger/editor, offered to help me publish a free book on Amazon, I have addressed her kindness by hiding from her. Nice, huh? Longstanding shoot-self-in-foot syndrome.

          I guess I should listen to you-all. It is partly that I don’t feel I yet have “a book”. I do wish some of my individual pieces had been published/gotten attention when their topics were timely, but I had no way of knowing how to make that happen, and no time or energy to devote to that. (I am so often fighting the latest hopeless battle, or cocooning in weary fatigue after doing so.)

          Excuses? Perhaps. I intend to start pushing out on the blog bits of my lupus book, in order to finish it (although the topic is likely less-interesting to the general public than others of which I’ve written) which may turn into a general “medical care sucks” book, perhaps. In which case, this post will become just another chapter.

          Whew! Do I ramble on…Thank you so much for the compliment, Stephanie! Guess I should have opened with that.

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          • I’m sure you will finger it out. May I suggest a book of short stories rather than a ramble? It might be a laughter is the best medicine kind of book.

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            • Yes. I have always thought in terms of each chapter being a sort of standalone vignette, probably only because that’s the only kind of longer book of which I’m capable.

              It has been suggested recently that I present my true stories as fiction–that folks would find them hysterical, but too (A) unbelievable, and (B) tragic if thought true for some pathetic loser.

              Liked by 1 person

  9. la_lasciata

     /  2015/01/10

    This had better be true – that your … erhmm … happenings have taken all the bad luck away from me for this year ! 😉
    Seriously, this iks an appalling tale. It points up every failing of every medical system, I think. What IS the problem with hospitals ? – same as here ?, that they are grossly underfunded and understaffed ? But that never explains for me the sight of so many staff-members wandering seemingly unfocussed around the corridors.
    Sighh …

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    • Margaret-Rose, this is the tiniest tip of the biggest behemoth of an iceberg of monstrous medical malfeasance I have experienced in my time on the planet.

      I have little regard for most physicians, who are like most teachers in that they, as a group, act insecure, childish, and information selfish with each other.

      Teachers, at least, are the opposite with their students, and with a few chosen friends and colleagues–eventually.

      Most physicians are NOT so with their patients–quite the opposite–and not with peers (note: Of COURSE they consider no patients their peers), either, or we would not get repeated studies demonstrating widely-varying diagnoses for the same patient presenting with the same symptoms. Worse now, when software correctly diagnoses the condition in such test cases! Then, add the sexism toward female patients–of which male and female doctors are almost equally guilty (med school brainwashing bears a lot of blame in this), the willing cooperation in taking what is effectively bribe $ from Big Pharma, the laxity about staying current with med info in their area… The list goes on.

      I’d bet every patient with autoimmune disorders could give you a list of medical-incompetence tales that would reverse the twirl of your tail.

      Stepping off soapbox…Now.

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  10. As usual, my O.Babe shuns my reader, thus causing me to actually remember to click over to see what’s new with her. And I read this. A couple of times actually because one can’t just absorb it all in a quick scroll.

    First, my relief that my last name is not Taylor is immense. Second, your choice of images is outrageously funny. The angry baby is a favorite. If only it weren’t in response to the other lady with a broken ankle being seated with ice. Oh, O.Babe, how I can relate to the nightmare that is an ER visit. Having that security guard turn his back on you…..the sloth that gave you “directions?” All just enraging. And somehow you make it all very, very funny in your own inimitable style. But I still want to come make you a cup of tea.

    What up with somebody so completely self-absorbed that he doesn’t detect the slightest something off when you plummet to the floor? This was an excellent screening mechanism,I suppose but I recommend you find another way. I will have to go read the “tuna” link to figure out the back story.

    So how are you feeling now? I know you say the second cast was uncomfortable, hope it’s better now. Sending you a big cyber-HUG!

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    • I accept your cup of virtual tea and offer you as accompaniment, for once, rather than some depressingly-tasteless kelp-looking gluten-free crackers (more aptly-named than usual, since one is more apt to crack one’s teeth on them), some rather tasty GF chocolate chip cookie dough. I can bake it into crisp, brown-edged cookies, with walnuts added, if you prefer. But while I grump around feeling sorry for myself, I have found that I prefer cheating, and instead taking “just a bit” from the bowl repeatedly.

      Won’t you virtually join me?

      I am fine. Other than every new unfortunate event making me question the nature of my existence– a profitless pursuit, given their frequency, that does nothing positive for my psyche. What I SHOULD do is take up a new hobby after each disaster, or apply myself doubly to an existing one. I’d be the Paganini of plate-spinning! No…that WOULD be a poor choice, for me. Perhaps I should start with playing spoons.

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      • You should be published, IMHO, your writing is that brilliant. If you’re in the mood, and who could blame you if you’re not, I wrote of a recent ER experience a while back that you might find interesting in the context of “misery loves company.”
        http://silverinthebarn.wordpress.com/2014/09/03/epilepsy/

        Believe me, O. Babe, as I’ve watched my daugther’s health slowly be destroyed, I’ve questioned the nature of existence too.

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        • Thank you. Of course, thank you. I do think I’m getting better.

          But I also think half-credit goes to my life’s events, the illustrations and captions, and the artificially short, separated “paragraphs I’ve now imposed on the blog for improved readability. The unillustrated words flat on the page in standard paragraph form do not speak as eloquently.

          (But thank you again. Will still bask in the compliment! 🙂 )

          Your own piece about Jen’s E/R experience–your shared experience–nailed it with your analogy about the blind men and the elephant. Or:

          On my first visit to a highschool friend’s house, I noticed an intriguing pen-and-ink drawing, framed, on one wall: It showed an assembly line with a row of ovals–more like rounded rectangles–having four small–were they cylinders?–attached onto one of the long sides, followed next by having a circle (a ball, I guess) attached to a short end. Then, another small cylinder at the tip of the circle, followed by two small triangles.

          Last, at the opposite short end of the oval–opposite the ball with the cylinder and two triangles–a small curlicue was poked on.

          That drawing by my friend’s sister was a Pig Factory where pigs are made. Jen’s E/R doctors and nurses treated Jen just like a pig in that factory: One separate piece at a time–poke it on, move it along.

          Please tell Jen I’m sorry she was treated exactly like a pig instead of a person. Yes, it’s the d#mned system, but it’s also the people in it. They could do better.

          The draft of this, my own post, included the same deal:

          I told the E/R folk I had fallen. Emergency medicine professionals knew a woman with systemic lupus, Behcet’s disease, L4/L5 degradation due to bone necrosis from the lupus, and right shoulder damage from a past surgery issue had fallen HARD ENOUGH TO BREAK THE HARDEST BONE TO BREAK in the ankle.

          No one asked the question every EMT or paramedic I’ve met (my male parent was both, and I’ve met several) would have asked if an ambulance had been called:

          “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

          THREE visits, three chances. I could have left all three times with an additional fracture–to my wrist, say, which did get hurt–and those bozos would have never caught it.

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        • That’s “systemic” lupus. Oops.

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  11. So, Outlying-On-Floor Babe, did you ever talk with the chatty-cathy on the phone again?

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    • No. I was using a software burner number, which expired. However, I have been extremely rude in that I haven’t even sent him a final message. I know with guys, that’s acceptable behavior, in that silence IS the final message, but that’s not the way I want to be. I’ve just been procrastinating. May…be later today I’ll send that “You’re a nice dude (he seemed so) but ‘no thanks'”.

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    • There were other issues I learned about him in the call which I don’t want to list here on accounta’ if he read this, he’d recognize. I don’t want to embarrass anyone. Anyone INNOCENT.

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  12. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at seeing your glasses at the floor, but I didn’t expect a photo of that and much less a funny title!

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    • I don’t mind you laughing, Lily, but while you were down there you could have at least picked them up! Those are my only reading glasses, and I wound up writing a check to the grocery clerk for $1,000 instead of $100–He followed me home–he thinks we’re engaged.

      (Not such a bad deal, actually: He’s a young, cute Filipino with lots of energy, and he knows how to cook. 🙂 )

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  13. If it wasn’t for bad luck, you’d have no luck at all.Ouch OB.

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    • Hey, Paul,

      These past few posts have given just a small sampling of what the bulk of my life is like. A party every day. That question about “Are you a ‘glass half full or half empty’ kind of person?”

      I’d be happy getting a glimpse of the glass.

      Grumpin’ and limpin’ off to bed now. I have a truckload ( 😉 chose that for you, Paul) of nerve whining to YOU about anything. You amaze me, sir. (And is there a blog you don’t read? Any time I fall on a new one, your comments are there!)

      You have a good night.

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  14. Please check out my blog cliffsofdover123.wordpress.com

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    • Now, Cliff, because you included the magic word, I will do as you ask, but I cannot commend you on your blog commenting etiquette. Could you not have scraped up one compliment or quip, no matter how feeble, or even added a thoughtful “and I hope your luck improves” — no, never mind that last one: Ha ha ha!! 🙂 🙂 Okay, headed there for a peek…

      Liked by 1 person

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    • I’m baa-aack! Turns out that was my second look–my, how you’ve grown 🙂 I like all the vids–most esp. ’cause right up front was one of Jimi, and who doesn’t like Hendrix? (Any not-friend of his is a not-friend of mine |:-p )

      Suggestion: You might think about adding a Search option (unless it was right in front of my face and I missed it–always possible) so that folks can seek their favorite musicians. Also: I couldn’t comment over on your blog, ’cause my security scanners gave me FAT warnings that my data was gonna be sucked outta’ my eyeballs. You might should wanna check that out.

      Happy blogging 😉

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      • Helo Outlier, thank you for commenting. I must totally say that I am a big fan of Jimi Hendrix myself haha. I do not think I have a search engine. But I add certain tags to my posts for people to find some material that I have previously published. Not all of it is fixed, but I am working on it. As for what you said about your security scanners giving you FAT warnings, I do not know what the issue is there. I say that because I have been getting many comments from people on my blog. Nevertheless, I appreciate you visiting my blog and I hope you check out my blog more. Happy trails fellow blogger!

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  15. How is your ankle lately? Just checking in..

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    • You thoughtful young thing, looking out for this old broad. 😀
      Ankle is great–yesterday I walked indoors, cautiously, without even my ortho boot on! Today, there was a Mysterious Sudden Swelling–surely not related!–but it went away after hours of that leg held up over one shoulder.

      (hah!).

      Re: You mentioned elsewhere age, writing style: I seem younger because I’m both childlike (good) and childish (not so much): immature, unformed, needy. Partly the childhood, but a great deal the 30-year abusive marriage. I froze in time–moved backward, really. But who I am now is okay, and it must be. I’m proud I’m not a street person. I’m proud I don’t spit at strangers (usually).

      I’m proud I ate only six cookies today.

      So far.

      (Considering I’m never supposed to eat fast sugars, there is nothing of which to be proud. Which makes me feel guilty and anxious. I need something to comfort me. I believe six more cookies will do nicely.)

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      • “So far.” Ha! Did we hold off at six? Well, I’m glad the foot is feeling better but won’t get too excited about positive happenings in O. Babe’s life. I do not want to tempt fate!! OK, you old gal, have a good day. XXX

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  16. First let me say…….you poor thing! That’s completely horrible. And second, I absolutely LOVE the way you tell a story. And third, if you can find it, I think you should watch a movie called….”What the Bleep!?: Down the Rabbit Hole”. Interviews with scientists and authors, animated bits, and a storyline involving a deaf photographer are used in this docudrama to illustrate the link between quantum mechanics, neurobiology, human consciousness and day-to-day reality. I very much believe in it. I found it on Netflix several years ago.

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    • Anonymous

       /  2015/01/14

      First, thank you for your kind sympathy, Iris. Second, I know you had more to say after your second point–something about tripping into a bunny burrow, I think–but I got stuck replaying your second comment over and over:

      …”I absolutely LOVE the way you tell a story!” * “I absolutely LOVE the way you tell a story!” * “I absolutely LOVE the way you tell a story”…

      I recorded it as a voice memo and made a Vine out of it to use for my nighty-night lullaby. Trouble was, it kept me awake. Too much light reflecting off my smiling teeth.

      You need to be more responsible with those compliments, Missie–Beauty sleep at my age is not optional!

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  17. So, this is me Sweetie Babes, singing, serenading you with and most definitely ROCKING to that old evergreen classic tune by ‘the’ Tina Turner, that goes a lil something like this: ‘YOU’re simply the best, YOU’re better than all the rest……LOL! Gosh! This right here’s a WOW masterpiece of a write and NO, you DO NOT have a bad luck streak babycakes; that’s all in your pretty head! How do I know?! Unlike some others, who’ve sustained injuries of this nature and are in dire need of surgery, pins, a cast and months of recovery….pay heed O.B cause this is where it gets REALLY ‘interessant’, yours is MINOR! See?! NOT THAT BAD, could actually have been so much worse off! rolling ma eyes for days on end LOL

    Seriously, I’m so sorry ’bout your foot dear and I do hope you’re holding up beautifully and healing well enough too! Still can’t get past how that fall coulda just gone down like that and it beats me still that your chatting bud was absolutely clueless ’bout what was going on, none the wiser! He just went on flapping off his gums and shooting off his mouth ’bout his ‘unapparent awesomeness’ and apparent insensitivity am guessing?! Youch, the horror! shaking ma head

    Anyhow, this is my first time on your glorious site since ’15 was heralded in, so am saying a very Happy Prosperous New Year to you Phoenix, I hope you have a great year and your dreams and aspirations find fulfilment too! You rock Babe, don’t you forget! Get well reall soon! Mwah! LOL

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    • YEMIE!! Did I truly never answer this, or is it one of the many on my blog where WordPress mysteriously erased random replies and comments from older posts?

      (I have proof of that problem occurring on posts other than this one, and have reported it to WP, but they’ve chosen not to respond.)

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      • O.B!!!! Don’t beat yourself silly ’bout it! A lotta folks have been complaining ’bout WP’s oversights and seeming inefficiencies! Hopefully, they get their ducks in a row and improve on their lack-lustre services! I do understand, and do not hold anything against you dear, keep doing what you know how to…..dazzle! Plus, I do hope you’re a lot better now too! You go gurl! LOL

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        • No, I’m not beating myself silly. I really wanted to know if WP had flubbed or I’d missed the comment.

          Whatevs!: Thank you belatedly for your good wishes and your comments explaining how lucky I was to break my ankle 😉 . The ankle is almost well–very little pain. I’m also recovering nicely from a surgery last week, with barely a tenth of my remaining brain cells being significantly addled by the general anesthesia. (Or, possibly, well over half of them utterly destroyed, but the half remaining no longer able to detect their loss 😦 )

          My next major maintenance shouldn’t be due for another 50,000 miles. I shall have lost track of how to keep track of mileage by that point, but my Isenile will helpfully beep and activate my smart Icane, which will beep faster when it tracks along the Ipath leading to the IBuh-Bye that America has implemented by then for its older folk. 😥

          😉

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          • Hehehe! What can I say O.B?! You’re just an absolute force of nature! A whirlwind of sorts! You’re outta this world and your spanking sense of humor…..to totally die for! You’re phenomenal and stay well too! I’ll have it no other way by golly! Gosh! LMAO!

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            • Studies show that the absolute best predictor of rising up the corporate ladder AND getting the best and biggest raises is to hugely and constantly kiss the boss’s behind. You cannot do it too often or too much. One would think that flattering every moment in a fawning, obsequious way would be as patently obvious to the boss as it to everyone else in the office, and actually drive the boss crazy, but it doesn’t. S/he sees it as something s/he deserves, and you have tremendous wisdom for recognizing her/his greatness.

              But you probably already knew this, Yemie. For I have noticed
              😎 that you yourself are a woman of great perception and wisdom.

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            • OMG! I’m cracking up sooo bad! Are you for real though?! Hahahahaha!

              Here’s the thing O.B, I’m just telling it as it is! I don’t flatter, kiss ass, or suck up to noone! Its totally outta character for me! So just take my word for it will you?! Cause I recognize that you’re larger than life and you make the absolute ‘bestest’ outta every situation by dwelling more on the sunny side of, even where there appears to be none! Only you Phoenix….one of a kind and I mean every single letterings of those words! Best believe it! LMAO!

              Wise? Perceptive? Wow! Thanks O.B, I believe you, I do; and I’ll take it! I’ll bite! ROTFLMAO!

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            • Yemie, there are 14 people tracking comments on this blog who know the true story, for they saw the mask slip a couple of times, when I shamed myself wallowing in self-pity–in PUBLIC!! Nothing wrong with a pity-party, on one’s own, or, once in a while, with one’s closest friend, but to weep and wail out in public in an uncreative way when I can see and hear and chew and swallow and walk still use most of my digits most days…

              I accept your accolades, and I am glad for them. Thank you, darling Yemie!! I do feel pride that I can laugh despite misfortunes, and it is actually true, and no exaggeration that I have a longer and more frequent string of unfortunate events than do other people, and that these add up over time to grind me down–but I also recognize that I am a privileged person living in a privileged country and that many have ONE misfortune that blows the sum total of mine away–and that any of those people manage to smile and make jokes is really the grace of God, isn’t it? 🙂

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            • Yes indeed O.B, its the special grace of God! As mortals, we rise and fall! We don’t stay down though, we pick ourselves up again and take all in our stride! Your tales are inspiring, and you’re an inspiration! A fighter, a survivor! One who wouldn’t stay down, but take total charge and control of all of her circumstances! For that and so much more, I laud you! You’re too good to be true and you inspire me greatly! God bless and keep you for always! Love you tons! LOL

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            • ❤ ❤ ❤

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