OMG it's the swine flu

EVERYBODY PANIC!!!

Or not.

Remember the 70's folks.

It was OHMYGOD back then, but only ONE person (in the U.S.) died from the swine flu strain...and the vaccination killed a whole lot more.

Most people who got it were barely sick. I suspect we're all gonna be fine.

In happier thoughts, today is the Spouse Thingy's birthday! He's 48! And still older than I! Yay!

:)

Today's suckitude...Bea Arthur died. I always liked her in stuff.

Or she's going to die tomorrow. The article is dated April 26, 2009. I'm not sure I would want the advanced notice, personally.

But dang...she was funny.

Wonder what the tux kitty did that made him stay there and take it...?

Crazy Talking Cats



(found on one of the kitty blogs. It made me laugh...I don't know why..)

Quite possibly both the weirdest and funniest thing to ever happen to me...

I made a mental note of the rather large 15+ passenger van in the Wendy's parking lot, but the only thing I really thought about it was that the gas mileage on that thing had to suck. I was more focused on getting my blindingly bright jacket off and stowed under the seat of my scooter, and getting inside where there was, hopefully, air conditioning.

Already waiting in line were several people, most of whom were developmentally delayed or disabled; there was a heated discussion going on about how badly a few of them NEEDED a Frosty. I was tempted to interject that it was hot enough outside that a Frosty surely was a need and not just a want, but then one of the women--I'm guessing about 25 and with Down's Syndrome--turned and looked at me; she squealed and bolted right at me, grabbing my right arm and hugging it tight...

...whereupon she planted a big kiss right on Thumper's face.

This Thumper, BTW.

The rest of me didn't matter much at that point.

Her caregiver was mortified, and pulled her away apologetically, but it was all right. I didn't even mind the ensuing squeals and her friends pointing and practically chanting Thumper Thumper Thumper.

I admit, I ate quickly to get out of there and away from the pointing and whispers of "It's Thumper!" but it was funny.

It sure beats the rude stares and off handed "God, that's tacky" comments I sometimes hear.

Fair warning, though, if you spot me and run up and kiss my tattoo, I'll probably lay you out flat.

Thanks to the Spouse Thingy's attempt at becoming One with the back yard, he was off today, and today was the start of the Medieval & Fantasy Festival in downtown Vacaville. We had a good time at it last year and figured why not? It's not like he was on sick leave and was supposed to stay home all weekend; he's Out With Owies, and wandering around in a wheelchair is not unreasonable.

I think it was a little better last year; either there were simply not as many street performers this year, or we were there at a bad time, but we went through the whole thing in less than an hour. It was still fun, jst not quite the kicky thrill it was last year.

On the plus side, last year there was a guy who makes really nice (and high quality) Celtic jewelry, and I bought a sterling silver ring from him. I had really wanted it in gold, but couldn't justify the expense. I reasoned a ring is a ring is a ring, and went cheap.

The problem is that my body doesn't like silver. It didn't turn my finger green; instead, I often turned the ring black. Not all that attractive.

Well, this year he was there and had the ring in gold, and since it subs as my wedding ring, I justified the expense.

And this is what the Spouse Thingy gets for falling off a ladder. He gets to spend money on jewelry.

Tomorrow, I drag him to the mall.

Pray for him.

:)

...and the Spouse Thingy learns a lesson...




When you put a ladder in a wet flowerbed, and then climb it with no one there to hold it for you, the ladder might shift a little, and you just might wind up falling off it. And you might land first on your ankle, then on your wrist, and then you wind up in the ER for 3 hours.

But, if you're lucky, nothing is broken and you're only in a whole lot of pain for the rest of the weekend, hobbling around on one crutch while your arm is in a sling.

Your family, however, is free to point and laugh ;)

Not that we would... heh

4 minutes long...and if it doesn't make you smile, well, quit sucking on lemons...



200 dancers pulled this off with only 2 rehearsals.
Way cool.

See how productive my weekend has been?




I can't stop now...game's not over yet. Spouse Thingy might have to make the meatloaf tonight, I have words to find.

Does it count as aerobic exercise?

A few minutes ago, the phone rang. I was a little annoyed because I was in the middle of something Very Important (hey, my Bookworm score is almost 33 million!) and I do not like to be disturbed when I'm doing something very important (like trying to find the bonus word.) But I stopped what I was doing anyway, and got up to see who was calling. Maybe I'd pick up, maybe not.

Caller ID said it was Mercy General Hospital.

In the same area code as my mother in law.

My heart started pounding so hard it felt like my neck was going to explode and I snatched that sucker up and answered as fast as I could.

Turns out my civilian doc is part of the Mercy Hospital system.

And they have an automated appointment reminder system.

Apparently, I have an appointment on Tuesday.

Sheesh.

Oddz N Endz #...Phfftt I lost track a long time ago...

• Max finally did it. He's always threatening to poop on my pillow (shuddup, it really is him making those threats) and this week he smeared his little ass all over my sheets near my head. He seems quite happy with himself, too.


• It's 77 freaking degrees in this house, and yet I caved to his request to turn on the fireplace. Yes, he made quite clear what it was he wanted.


• Oddly, I was actually a little chilly myself. Well, perhaps not so oddly, since we're pretty sure I need my thyroid meds upped.


• I have not seen my endocrinologist in almost a year and a half. Oh yeah, this is thanks to the wonderful people at TriCare, who administer the Oh Hell No It's Not Free No Matter WHAT You Were Promised When You Joined military medical insurance. It took a year to fix the hose up that locked us out of the system, and now my doc is booked up.


• I don't know why I'm dragging my ass about seeing a civilian. I should. And likely will. I suppose it's the whole having to drag out my medical history for someone new. I really do want to tell them to mind their own business and just gimme my drugs medications.


• I also have not been on HGH since December. Ran out, etc ad nauseum. I am feeling its absence in every movement, and it sucks.


• A little self medication today: the weather was beautiful, so I took my spiffy scooter out for a nice 50 mph ride. I had to come home when I could barely see through all the dead bugs on my face shield.


• Tomorrow looks to be another nice day. If the Spouse Thingy has a quiet night, we might go for a short ride tomorrow. This is awesomeness.


• I'm wondering if I should pull Buddah back from the fireplace, lest he roast his little hairballs...

Oddly, for a little town, we have a very big steakhouse.

You know, the kind of place you can order a 32 ounce Porterhouse. A T-bone the size of your head. A rack of ribs big enough to could pretty much stable them together and use as a belt. The kind of place people will drive miles out of their way for dinner.

It's less than a mile from our house, and it's where we took the Boy for his birthday.

Now, neither of us told the waitress it was his birthday. But she carded him for his beer, and a few minutes later when he got up to wander into the little boys' room, she came over and asked. She did it in a way that didn't make me think twice; he'd ordered some extra food to go and she mentioned she thought maybe it was for a girlfriend...and it just now occurred to me that she was pumping us to see if he was attached. But, she carded him, confirmed it was his birthday, and I didn't think anything about it.

When we were close to being done with our steaks (no I did NOT get the 2 pound Porterhouse...) she brought out his food to go, made sure he was done eating...and then throngs of waiters descended on the table. They put the hat on his head, gave him ice cream, and sang to him.




This was doubly funny because when he was about 13 we told a server at Applebees (while he was away from the table, and while we were with several friends, including a cute 13 year old girl) it was his birthday, and he about died when they started singing to him. Probably because it wasn't his birthday then...

He was a good sport about it tonight (might have been that giant beer he had on board) and was even willing to share the ice cream.

However, for my birthday...we're going to McDonald's...

Holy crap, my kid is 26 today... 'tis good thing we had him when we were very, very young, or that would make me feel very very old.

Happy birthday, kiddo ;)