One more trip to the hospital
May 31, 2009
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Tags: Annie Wilson, Atlanta, blog, blogs, cobb county, humor, life, Marietta, marietta georgia, personal, random, seizure, silliness, silly stuff, women
I woke up…
…this morning wondering,
“What time is it?”
Ordinarily it’s dark outside when I wake up so I was confused when I saw that it was light out. I had been up for an hour before I remembered WHY I slept so long. I spent the night in the hospital.
Yesterday I noticed several faces around my couch and they were mostly speaking to me. I wasn’t quite trusting of the faces, as a matter of fact, they scared the hell out of me. I didn’t recognize ANY of them. They were asking simple enough questions but for some reason, I couldn’t answer any of them. So, I just stared at them. I don’t know why but I did.
Then a familiar face came into the mix. I couldn’t put a name to that face either. But they seemed to want to take me with them and I couldn’t really argue with them so I went.
By the time I got to the hospital, I knew why we were going, I’d just had a grand mal seizure while at the computer. I don’t remember anything from the seizure, nor do I remember what happened right before it started. Actually, yesterday is a bit of a fog.
While I was in the hospital, they gave me some IV sedation because I ran out of xanax and it was the weekend so I couldn’t get it filled until Monday. The doc (Dr. John Knox…a very, very kind and decent man, not to mention an excellent doc. I’ve seen him many times but as funkified as I looked, he didn’t recognize me.) said that you can get seizures if you suddenly stop taking xanax. I didn’t think it would do any harm over the weekend.
So, as I finally remembered this morning, yesterday wasn’t a great day for me. I remember being wobbly on my feet which was probably from the meds he gave me. He put some ativan in an IV to get it into my bloodstream as quickly as possible. Then, he gave me another presciption for xanax.
And then, I must have gone to bed because when I woke up this afternoon, I couldn’t believe how late it was. There’s only one problem…I don’t know what I did with those prescriptions the doctor gave me. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.
I’m afraid of my brain.
Open season on those who disagree
May 29, 2009
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Tags: assholes, Atlanta, Barrack Obama, blog, cheating husband, cobb county, dating, Dinesh D'sousza, election, friends, Georgia, humor, life, local news, Marietta, men, newt gingrich, obama mama, opinion, Peggy Noonan, personal, politics, random, relationships, ronald reagan, silliness, silly stuff
Uh oh, I’ve met a bright liberal who is as wrong as he can be but when it comes to politics, his critical thinking skills disappear along with his scientifically open mind.
I belong to no particular party, I simply have opinions on issues like everyone else. But, I don’t suffer from the need to worship any other human, be he a religious, political or musical God. And I certainly would never think to use degradation of another as my main talking point in a political or religious powwow of any kind. I can’t imagine when I WOULD use degradation of another…unless of course the other is my lying, cheating, SOB of an ex husband.
When my electricity was out earlier this month, I did a lot of reading, mainly during the day of course. I happened to read two books about Reagan one week and I made a couple of allusions to him. For some reason the response I received was, “Everybody knew he had Alzheimer’s while he was in office.” I knew that if Reagan DID have Alzheimer’s in office, it was early and no one knew about it. He was an old man and we old people do old people stuff. There’s nothing wrong with that. Last week I found my purse in the lettuce bin. Do I have Alzheimer’s? Who knows. But my verbal sparring partner went back over 20 years to when big hair was in, straight men danced in pink shorts in videos and Peewee Herman was still just a playful character just to find one point. He brought back some declarations that could never be proven or disproven.
Then he took them and entered them into a discussion about current events. What do you do when you’re confronted with something stupid like that? I don’t even know how to respond because it isn’t one of the many things I’ve pondered over the years.
When things like that happen during a political discussion and not so subtle digs are made at those with whom I concur on any given issue, I realize that I am entering a “battle of the wits with an unarmed person”. That pretty much ends any further serious discussion on my behalf.
I can see this behavior evoking emotional responses from some people, especially nutty women. He HAS to know that a heated argument is an option but he doesn’t seem to mind. I must be terribly disappointing to someone attempting to pick a fight or make me angry because there just isn’t much that I care about enough to bicker about or get emotional over. But still, many men have tried in vain to “get my dander up” and although they can be a minor irritant, they don’t really get the reaction they’re looking for so I win by simply limiting my exposure to such irritants.
You know, sometimes I think that I’m a bright woman but when I see men using blatant and poor manipulation techniques, I feel like a fricking genius. Especially when the man is well educated and can honestly claim some rather haughty accomplishments. But, when it comes to political discussion, he can’t help himself…he MUST attack Republicans because he thinks that I am one. Whatever. I’ve met rednecks who made more sense than a liberalista who is consistently on the offense and more narrow-minded than a Democrat in 1956 Mississippi.
The party of segregation no longer despises black people openly but they can’t overcome their intense desire to place themselves above someone…anyone. They’ve chosen Republicans and they justify the “viewism” that they practice in many varied ways but few of the ideas hold up to any degree of scrutiny.
Rude politicians like Harry Reid make unnecessary rude comments about Barbara Bush in a book and that’s OK. But, had Newt Gingrich countered with Obama mama cracks, he would be pelted with tomatoes and demonized as a racist hypocrite. The last successful demonization of one group of people by another group of people resulted in the Holocaust. I never understood how the Germans could be so mislead but when I see a liberalista or a right wing fanatic, I start to see how it could be done.
Who knew???
May 29, 2009
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Tags: assholes, Atlanta, blog, cobb county, entertainment, friends, Georgia, humor, japan, japanese pranks, life, local news, Marietta, marietta georgia, men, news, personal, porta-potty prank, pranks, random, relationships, silliness, silly stuff, television, video blog, video blogging, women
Those Japs are some funny mother fuckers. Ashton Kutcher ain’t got nothin’ on these “peaceful under embarrassment” victims of some hideous pranks:
http://www.break.com/index/japaneseprank9.html
Yeah, but I hate seafood
May 28, 2009
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Tags: adultery, assholes, Atlanta, blog, breaing up, cheating husband, cobb county, dating, divorce, entertainment, family, fish, friends, Georgia, humor, life, love, marietta georgia, marriage, men, personal, random, relationships, seafood, silly stuff, there's more fish in the sea, women
People keep telling me that there are a lot more fish in the ocean. Well that, of course, is true. But another truth is that fish are all slimy, they behave alike and they have pea-sized brains. And they all have eyes on either side of their heads so they can look at a passing fishette and Mrs. Fish will never be the wiser. (Fish are probably dumb enough to turn THEIR whole fricking heads too.) So why, I ask you, is THAT supposed to comfort me now that my most recent catch has broken the line from the weight of commitment? People should say, “There are a lot more geese in the sky.” That would make more sense as geese mate for life.
The similarities amongst many men can be astounding. Some of them seem to enjoy a good rumble but for the most part, they will go to any length to avoid an argument. And, in general, they will admit to something but only if the actual truth is worse than the thing they admitted to. Once they have told an untruth, they will go to the grave defending it no matter how many laws of nature the untruth defies.
They also, inexplicably, forget the directions to the local florist after marriage. They relieve themselves in groups and add one inch to their heights as a woman would subtract ten pounds from her weight. AND…I recently found out that they make character judgments based upon the pain inflicted by a handshake! I guess we can bewilder them as well, but jeez, put the seat down! No, we DO NOT look, we assume it is where we left it.
Logic would tell me to getteth myself to a nunnery but I am a hopeless romantic. This is somewhat embarrassing to admit, but yesterday I found myself crying during “Back to the Future”. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I became overwhelmed with emotion as I stood witness to young love and hope for the future as Marty’s hand and guitar playing capabilities came back from being erased from existence. Seeing Marty’s parents kiss for the first time was more than I could take. I actually reached for a tissue.
I wondered to myself, “What in the world is going on here? Could my age account for my surprising emotional breakdown?” I have been acting a lot like my mother over the past decade. She could evoke fond feelings for crickets and other disgusting creatures. She saw every glass as half full and every bum as unloved and probably had something to do with that “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing” Coke commercial.
Age, romance, loneliness, whatever. I do enjoy fishing and find the anticipation as exciting as the catch itself. I guess the important thing is to know when to throw a fish back. Of course, by then you have already put a hole in it’s mouth. I think we have all been thrown back a time or two and we bear the emotional holes in our mouths to prove it. Enough of them and you begin to act a little funny. We also share other painful experiences like paper cuts, pizza mouth burns and ice cream headaches.
But I have to admit that we women DO need you guys. I have never changed a tire in my life and I am not about to start now. I just stand in back of the car holding pieces of the jack looking confused. It works quite well, and the men that stop to help seem to get some enjoyment out of helping a damsel in distress so I don’t feel too badly. It’s not like I am putting holes in their mouths.
Headlines that make me smile
May 28, 2009
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Tags: blog, blogs, cobb county, conjugal visits, dating, drew perterson conjugal visit, drew peterson, gay, giant blob, humor, lesbian issues, life, local news, love, marriage, mother gets 3 months for hitting sex offender with a bat, Nevada's giant blob, opinion, personal, politics, prison sex, random, relationships, sexting, women
‘My Life Has Been Ruined’ …said a teenager convicted of sexting. What a stupid idea it is to felonize our youth. It’s a shame that they don’t portray teen sex as a crime…you can touch, but you better not look!
Giant Blob Found Deep Beneath Nevada…well, there had to be something out there. I’ve been to Nevada, there’s nothing on top of the dirt.
Mother Gets 3 Months for Hitting Sex Offender with Baseball Bat Ya see? This is why women should be in charge. This woman should be given a medal. If she hit an Iraqi dude with a bat, she would be commended by the President of the United States of America. If more sex offenders were hit with baseball bats, there wouldn’t be so many sex offenses.
Drew Peterson Calls Radio Show From Jail, Suggests ‘Win a Conjugal Visit He may or may not have been serious, but if I showed up at his cell on visiting day…he’d do me. What possible reason could a woman have for NOT dating/screwing this guy? He’ll find some ditz somewhere. In that way he’s sort of like the Hugh Hefner of the wife murdering set…no matter how fat, old and dangerous he gets, there’s always a line of idiots volunteering to be his next victim.
California Allowing Gay, Lesbian Conjugal Visits for Inmates I can’t imagine the meeting where this was OK’ed. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when they addressed the fact that gays and lesbians are the last people to need a conjugal visit in prison.
Ganja King For President!
So…
…THIS is the first day of the rest of my life? Damn. I’m sweating from the Georgia heat and it isn’t even 9 AM. This day might be a bad day to start living. But, since I could get hit by an airplane just sitting here in my dining room tomorrow, maybe I should make a plan.
I wonder what room people are usually in when planes hit them in their houses? I also want to know the low risk areas which I would think should include my crawlspace but I don’t go there. I would, but I’m a girl and we hate spiders and snakes. And yes, I’d rather get hit by a plane than to go in that crawlspace. If you were in the room when I got my first MRI, you’d understand my reaction to extreme fear. If YOU were hiding in my crawlspace, you’d kick my ass out.
The same goes for my attic. Anne Frank wouldn’t have lasted until lunch with me up in that attic. My reaction to the first spider would get the attention of every Nazi in Germany.
See how my mind works? I start out planning the rest of my life and I end up in Nazi Germany. That COULD be an omen.
But as soon as I change subjects, I won’t care anymore.
OK then…last night I passed out on the couch while I was THINKING about having a Margarita. I didn’t even open the bottle of Cuervo…I just THOUGHT about it and I was out until this morning. God forbid I should drink any of the stuff.
See, this is the time for me to drink. If I wanted to drink at all, I would have to do it in the mornings. But most people frown upon that sort of thing and I may want to drive somewhere so I must refrain for now. Of course, I could just go back to bed, wake up after 5 PM and knock back a few.
But, that’s probably not a good thing to do on the first day of the rest of my life although, if I chose to be a drunk, that’d be the right thing to do. No, I can’t be a drunk…I pee too much already. I would just be a urine odor waiting to happen. Damn it.
Maybe a cokehead? I can dismiss that out of hand because I couldn’t afford to be a cokehead. On top of that, I wouldn’t know where to get cocaine. Well, if someone dared me, I could probably find it…but I hate jail and heart attacks so I won’t.
I totally missed the Ecstasy thing so I don’t even know what the hell that is much less where to find it. Same with crack. I could walk past a huge pile of that stuff and I would just think, “That’s a dumb place for rocks.” Of course, I’m assuming that it looks like rocks…if not I’d think something else but it would never occur to be to get a pipe and smoke the “rocks”.
I did try acid a bazillion years ago but that was no fun. I was fishing off a dock and I puked in the lake after eating some sort of acid. I’m not sure who was more messed up, me or the ducks that ate the acid filled puke.
Acid is like eating shrooms, I only did that once. I thought I was having a lot of fun until my date put in the movie Good Morning Viet Nam. I was doing just fine until the scene where the restaurant blew up. I took it rather hard because of the shrooms. I chose never to touch those suckers again either…especially after I learned from where they came.
So, as compared to others of the era in which I grew up, I didn’t do too badly. I was rather enamoured with marijuana because nothing bad ever happened as a result of smoking it…ever. The only bad thing that can happen is jail and that’s not because of the wacky tobacky, it’s because of William Randolph Hearst and bigotry. The poor little plant didn’t ask to be illegal.
Ah, I know…I’ll campaign for Obama’s second campaign…IF he decriminalizes marijuana federally. I’ll get that little sucker re-elected and I could do it simply by being Annie Marijuanaseed. Like Johnny Appleseed, I’ll travel the country planting all the seeds that my ex saved for years. And you’d see a voting revolution like you’ve never seen if every politician in the country promises to treat weed like gays in the military…don’t ask, don’t tell.
I am 100% sure that people underestimate the numbers of quiet little pot smokers out there. And if you did legalize the stuff, people wouldn’t be so upset about the economy because pot will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no pot.
Anyone who doesn’t think that the numbers are out there simply has to look for all the Marijuana stores springing up like McDonald’s did 50 years ago. In one Los Angeles neighborhood not too far from West Hollywood, 6 new pot stores opened within the last 6 months. That’s in addition to the stores that were already there 6 months ago. There has to be some serious cash coming in to someones pockets.
Well, if you want to run for an office in this country, I dare you to call for a Ganja King on every corner.
Rum and Coca Cola
May 24, 2009
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Tags: Atlanta, bacardi, blog, blogs, but I'm not free., cheap date, cheap dates, cobb county, dating, divorce, friends, humor, I may be cheap, life, Marietta, men, personal, random, relationships, rum and coke, sex, silliness, silly stuff, women
Is this too much to ask?
OK…
…I wonder if I can tell you this entire story in one post? I’ll try. It was one of those situations during which, as it was happening, I began to think, “Oh man, this is gonna make some serious blog posts.” So, as I knew I would whilst it was happening, I’m going to tell you a bit of the story right now.
First let me set the scene a bit. Although it’s almost gone, I’ve been harboring a nasty cold sore of the right side of my mouth for the past week. This guy, who I’ll call “SSI Dude”, had been coming to get me every view days, taking me to his lovely home, making me lovely dinners and serving me cocktails.
Thursday night, SSI Dude was pretty much not speaking to me, rather he was spending the entire evening on the computer. At one point I mentioned his odd attitude and he responded by saying that he “was a bit miffed” because I kissed him on the cheek after assuring him that my sore was past the contagious phase and besides, I only kissed him in front of his ear so I know he was good. We didn’t swap spit or anything like that. Not until shortly before he took me home did he tell me why he was behaving so poorly…he thought that I had given him a cold sore. All he had was a small bruise on his lower lip and it went away with 24 hours so by the next evening, he knew that he had made a mistake in accusing me and another in coming all the way to my house just to bring me to his house where he could ignore me and I couldn’t leave.
Then, the next night, he wanted to bring me back over to his house and asked what I would be drinking. I asked what he had and he said cheap Vodka and expensive everything else. I wasn’t in the mood for any more of his Crystal Light/Vodka drinks and I don’t care for red wine. I suggested we stop at the store to get a bottle of Coke because his mixer collection is either discolored or was purchased in the 1980’s. As we were driving back to his place (and I was waiting for him to stop and get some Coke), he made a comment that took me aback quite a bit. He actually said:
“Don’t drink all of my good stuff like the Crown Royal.”
Now, I’ve had much better in life than that. But the only thing I saw that I wanted right then was something that I’ve had a hundred times, for special occasions as well as ordinary drinking times…rum and coke. It wasn’t my fault that all he had was Bacardi. And, I would wager that well over half of my rum and cokes were made with Bacardi. But his Bacardi rum happened to be from Mexico, with a Mexican stamp on it and everything. He wanted me to be “careful” with that bottled because it was some sort of “special rum from Mexico and very expensive”. Actually my options consisted of the cheap, cheap, cheap vodka that he was drinking or ANYTHING else in the cabinet.
First of all, it was an ordinary bottle of Bacardi and it wasn’t even 151. Then, I opened the bottle and saw crystallised rum indicating that it had been there for “years”. When I asked him, he said, “Yeah, it’s 4 years old.” An old bottle of mostly consumed 4 year old rum and he didn’t want me to drink much of it. I guess you never know when you might have a lady for whom you care over for the evening.
Now, remember, on the way to his place I had asked for Coke. So, after hearing his offensive comments assuring me that I am not quite up to par with the sort of guests that he would serve the “good stuff”…I was so stunned that I forgot about the Coke and so did he. When we got back to his place he said, “Oh! I’m sure I have Coke somewhere here.” He proceeded to hand me cans of Diet Coke, Caffeine Free Coke and Sprite. I guess he was doing his darndest to avoid leaving the house for me and he even tried this gem, “My financial situation has been bad lately, I can’t really afford to be drinking good stuff.” To which I responded, “THIS STUFF’S ALREADY PAID FOR!”
In all my years on Earth, any man who has taken me on a date would have been delighted to run to a close store and get me some Coke. This guy did everything to avoid it. It was like dating a Middle-Easterner.
Eventually of course, my silence as I sipped ice water FINALLY got through to him and he ran out to get some Coke so that I could enjoy my Friday evening.
I thought that he was simply drinking wine and maybe he was but he seemed to get rather tipsy rather quickly. He asked me to “Show me your boobs!” and other various and sundry parts of me. I wanted to ask his legal opinion about a potential case, because he’s a professor of law. Before he answered, he walked over to me and started to pull my pants down so that he “could watch that pussy” as he answered my questions. I went the other way, I kept them up.
Anyway, I’m not a total ignoramus when it comes to legal issues so I knew the most obvious tact regarding my legal dilemma. The problem was that the obvious tact wasn’t an option. So, I asked if he had any other ideas.
I was blown away. He spent the next 2 hours telling me the benefits of going with the original tact and how good he was at convincing people to do something they never wanted to do in the first place. There wasn’t a damn thing that I could do to make him stop trying to convince me that my original idea was best, no matter how many times I told him it was NOT an option. I wanted to slap him on the side of the head. I had to take a pill.
He had obviously had a bit too much of the drink to be driving and I didn’t have my car so even if I knew HOW to get home from there, I couldn’t have done it.
So, I flopped on the couch and listened as my creepy date swapped IM’s and pics back and forth on the computer in the next room. That’s where I woke up in the morning.
Then, when I got home, a guy whom I haven’t seen in a few months showed up to surprise me with a gift. That was so sweet! So, when I decide to invite someone to my place for dinner and a movie, guess who’ll be coming to dinner?
Men…pishaw
May 23, 2009
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Tags: assholes, Atlanta, blog, blogs, dating, divorce, friends, humor, life, local news, love, Marietta, marietta georgia, men, personal, random, relationships, sex, silliness, silly stuff, women
I don’t know if I’m just really good at reading people or if people are just really bad at manipulating me but I can pick up on the most subtle sign of manipulation that is ever aimed at me. I was on the receiving end of a barrage of sly little insults, none of which had anymore effect on me than would a 4 year old who stuck his tongue out at me. It’s good for a lot of reasons, self protection being a biggie. But it’s an absolute deal breaker because of the childish nature of most of the little arrows sent straight at my self esteem.
I spent last evening with a very bright man. He is a scientist, he has a law degree, he taught law for years and he holds several patents on numerous inventions of his own. But when it comes to petty banter, he isn’t any smarter than a high school junior who wants to annoy a female. We all have our own particular genius and mine is reading people. Obviously it doesn’t always work, I did marry a bum after all. But when there aren’t as many feelings involved, the verbal cherry bombs are as easy to identify as a raspberry sprayed in your face.
I have to deal with this guy now but I’ll be back to tell you how I spent my night…and it’s an interesting story, especially how I ended up sleeping on the couch.
BBS.
May 22, 2009
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Tags: blog, blogging, blogs, cheating husband, CNN, cobb county, date, dating, divorce, election, entertainment, friends, humor, life, local news, love, man waiting for me, Marietta, marriage, men, opinion, random, relationships, sex, silliness, silly stuff, women
As I type this, there is a dude sitting outside in my driveway waiting for me. I’m taking a break to tell you guys about it because I want you to come back and see what happens when I assess his ass and everything else with the brains God gave me tonight. Come back soon, I’ll let you know if this guys passes muster or gets voted out of my life.
…back soon…chances are I’ll be telling you another hideous man story but there’s always that possibility that Prince Charming will show himself.
LMAOROFL…yeah right.
“5 of the 6 victims were prostitutes”
May 19, 2009
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Tags: Atlanta, bias in reporting, blog, blogs, cobb county, crime, life, Marietta, media, murder, murdered women, news, opinion, personal, random, reporting, serial killer, women
to write something in the morning, I usually hope to make people smile. But sometimes stupid stuff annoys the heck out of me and I have to tell you about it. When possible I try to make my rantings amusing but it’s not always easy to do. Let’s see what I can to with the reporting of serial killers.
This morning I was listening to the news and I heard the following sentence, “The DNA has been matched to the murder of 6 women, 5 of them prostitutes.” I have no idea what the last woman did for a living, but apparently it isn’t salacious enough to mention. No one wants to hear, “The victim worked at the local McDonald’s.”
When I was a kid, the news ALWAYS referred to black victims as “colored victims”. If there was no mention of race in a report, you could be assured that the people involved were white. Race was ONLY mentioned in a news report if the victim or perpetrator wasn’t white. I think I was about 8 when I picked up on that odd little praxis. It made no sense to me but I was only 8, maybe there was something that I didn’t know.
Later in life I noticed that movies, TV shows, and the media NEVER do anything without a reason. It may not be clear right away, but eventually you see why the the leading lady cut her finger. Nothing is done simply for the sake of doing it.
I can think of one reason that the media described black people involved in a crime as “colored” or “Negro”. At the time the media was perpetuating the notion that blacks are somehow different than white people. Can you think of any other possible reason to mention race in a news report? It may be a pertinent fact but more often than not, it was mentioned for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Were we supposed to hear that “A colored man was shot last night.” and think to ourselves, “Oh, for a minute there I thought, that’s so sad. Thank the Lord they told us it was only a colored guy.”?
Which brings me back to the serial killer and his 5 prostitute victims….what does the fact that the victims were hookers add to the story? If they had gone into detail and were discussing the actual crimes, it might have been pertinent. But the way it was tossed into a report about DNA, it served no purpose at all. And, as I said before, there is ALWAYS a reason for what the media does. What reason could they have for mentioning the job of a prostitute but not the job of a non-prostitute?
Are we supposed to react the same way when a prostitute is murdered as we did in the 1960’s when a black man was murdered? Are we supposed to think to ourselves, “Oh, well they were only hookers, they were begging to be raped and murdered.”? If not, why would they mention it at all?
Of course there are times when the job of a victim is a pertinent fact in the commission of a crime just as it’s occasionally pertinent to mention the race of the victim. Years ago, the media stopped mentioning race unless it added something relevant to the story being reported. And newspapers did away with Help Wanted ads for “Females” that were separate from the Help Wanted ads for “Males” decades ago. It’s a shame that prostitutes can’t organize. In today’s age of political correctness, I doubt it would take more than one decent sized protest to put a stop to the useless practice of mentioning the jobs of murder victims, but only if they are hookers.
