My mom suffers, or I guess at this point WE suffer from my mom's Alzheimer's disease. I feel strongly that I am following that same path but will arrive at the destination significantly quicker than my mom arrived. Many mornings I've had the song, 'Play That Funky Music White Boy' in my head, and every morning I've wondered why I've got that damn song in my head. Today, it dawned on me. You've probably gotten there already...yes, it's my alarm. Bloody hell.
Fragile flowers...if you're still with me...try to remember my sense of humor and use yours if you have one. Today I was at Ross and the male cashier complimented me on my Tory Burch (had to actually look at the glasses to see how to spell that) eyeglasses. I had already been chatting with him and his voice was very high and he was on the effeminate side (is it still OK to say that?) I don't know if that makes him GQ, IQ, LG, BT....no freakin' idea, but he was sweet and I liked him. I told him that I had been wearing these new glasses for about a month or so and my husband hadn't noticed...he said, "Oh, he's a man, I'm a special kind of man so I noticed." I laughed, thought that was hysterical. I'm not sure if he's transitioning or what but I'm telling you if men knew what these damn hot flashes were like they would NEVER, EVER, EVER want to be a woman. Two or three times a day, sweat pours off of me. This woman thing is highly overrated. If I transitioned would I still have hot flashes?
Speaking of male/female stuff I was at Barnes and Noble today looking for a magazine. They have a section called Women's Interest, that's where you can find all the Hollywood rags, Elle, Cosmo, and all those other "women's" magazines. The Men's Interest section had GQ, Maxim, Playboy, and then business magazines like Forbes. If the sports magazines had been there I would have been forced to burn the place down.
Paul got home today from Houston. I bought Paul some shoes today. That's how we do things in our marriage. I shop. He hates to shop. I don't hate to shop. He does. I shop. He needed shoes. I bought shoes. Today, I bought shoes for Paul. We've always done it that way. I buy the shoes in this family. Our marriage is based on trust. He's always trusted me to buy shoes. He bought shoes. Paul bought shoes. He got online and bought shoes, but I buy the shoes. I'm not sure what to do now. He didn't even tell me he bought them. The shoes that HE bought are at the office which means he had them SHIPPED to the office. He secretly bought shoes. What else is he buying? I was completely bypassed. I'm being phased out because he bought shoes. Now I know what those Mom and Pop stores feel like when Walmart comes to town.
Listening to the radio today and a Sia song was playing. I think she has a unique and beautiful voice but she's like the female Elton John. I don't have one single clue what she's singing. I could google the lyrics of course but where's the fun in that? Rocket Man, burning every shoe I've ever owned....
I had to go to the dentist today and I confessed that for the last several months I've been chewing ice and couldn't seem to kick the habit - this suddenly appeared - this feeling that I needed to chew ice. I also admitted to chewing large amounts of Bubble Yum. They told me to have my iron checked because I might be suffering from PICA. It happens a lot with pregnant women, they crave stuff like dirt, drywall, you know, fun stuff. I'm not pregnant, obviously because I'm not Janet Jackson and I'm clearly going through menopause (have been going through it for about 15 years I think.) I'm sure that I'm not anemic. I just want to chew ice and bubble gum (not at the same time.) They told me not to do it anymore and if I started craving drywall to call my family doctor. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm guessing that they will tell me not to chew drywall. Last week my rheumatologist told me that I can't take Tylenol, Aleve, or Advil anymore. These people don't know me well. If you tell me I can't do something then I want to do it, well, except for the drywall thing. I don't want to chew drywall...yet.
Also on the radio today, I switched to one of my preset stations and 'I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas' came on. This made me angry. It's November 2nd and one of my presets has changed to Christmas music. I'm not amused. I dread the month of December. Every year I tell myself that this December will be different. This December I will not be sad. This December will be filled with joy. Then, on November 2nd, on one of MY preset stations 'I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas' comes on and I feel that horrible pull...December is already trying to grab me.
Damn.
Tonight is a special night because it's game 7 of the World Series. Few sporting events are as cool as a game 7. I'm looking forward to it except for the announcers. Joe Buck...ugh. I wish that I could be a sports announcer, I would be great at it and would provide a different spin on events. Of course, there would have to be a significant time delay because sometimes words come out of my mouth that would not be appropriate on TV. Still...I would provide a lot of entertainment as an announcer. Maybe now that I'm not needed at home anymore I can be an announcer. BEEEEEP.....
Shoes. December. Hippopotamus. Funky Music. Drywall...
Love you
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