Who Wants to See a Dragon Tatooed On a Wrinkled Arm?
Ok, I'll admit that I am older than many of the bloggers on blogspot. On a survey I must check the box that says 45 - 55 years. So, I don't understand the need to prick one's skin with needles and inject colored dye under one's skin. Do these people understand that tatoos are permanent? Piercings can grow back but tatoos only wrinkle up. What is the allure of tatoos? Do these people understand that when they develop dementia and are lying in that hospital bed in a local nursing home that the workers will be laughing at them and the wrinkly tatoos? I have been told that tatoos are painfull, so why do it?
Aging Gracelessly
This story must start four years ago. After wearing glasses since the thrid grade and contacts since the age of 16, I began to have more serious vision problems. The fourth professional I consulted determined that I had premature cataracts. It appears that particular occular problems runs in my family (mother and sister both had them by age of 55, but I beat them both and had mine by age of 50!). So, had the murkly lens removed and new lovely plastic lens implanted. I love them! Immediately, I could see objects at distances that the contact lens only hinted at. The only drawback was that close up vision is lost (plastic lens must have a permanent fixed focus and most people choose distance) but you can look like every other aging baby boomer and wear reading glasses (which can be purchased at any "Everything in the Store is $1). After a year of the reading glasses my optometrist agreed that I could try one contact lens for close work and keep one eye for the distanct vision. I think they call this monovision when fitting contacts but I really understang why when actually I have two difference visions. (I really want to blog sometime about words I don't like such as monovision but I will save that for another day). So for two years I have had one disposable contact lens that I wear in one eye. I only sleep in it occasionally because I tend to build up lots of protein or something called floaters in my eyes. So, most mornings I put on a single contact lens.
Well, last night I had been helping a student with a major research paper, kind of a pre-thesis, and my eyes were tired. I took out my contact and put it in the proper container. This morning I stumbled out of bed and after a morning Diet Coke and few minutes of staring into space, I tried to put my contact in. It left really bad and so I took it out, cleaned it, and put it back in....but it still felt bad. I decided it might have a small tear on it but since I need a contact in order to see up close, I can't see any tears. I decided to just try a brand new out of the box contact. I opened it and put it in my eye. Next I dried my wet hair, and started putting on some makeup, but it seemed weird somehow. I could see really well for things about 6 inches from my face and see ok at the distances but 18 inches to 2 feet from my face was all a blur. Then I stared walking and was a little off balance.
I beleive that in order to stay home from school hosipitalization must be involved, so I drove off to class. I told my very small summer school class that I was having some vision troubles and had to hold my notes and books very close to my face. By this time I had decided that my eye tissue had reached the point that many face after cataract surgery that the opthmalogist has to make a small laser incision in a membrane that holds the lens. So I stared the DVD I had planned for the second half of class and headed to call the doctor. I decided that I was tired of fighting that contact and I would rather just use the spare reading glasses that I keep with me so I took the offending contact out. It was a very surreal experience. I could SEE! I could see both up close and all the way across my office. But there was a contact in my hand....evidently, I had been wearing TWO contacts for the first three hours of my day.
How did that happen? Am I so sliding down the slippery slope of reality that I put in two contacts this morning. I then decided to examine the contact that I had removed and it was greenish to clear colored. I wear blue contacts! I think that the manufacturer messed up and put two contacts in the same little contact holder! The really sad thing is that I walked around for three hours this morning feeling slightly dizzy and not being able to see.
And no, Reagan, I do not need a three pronged cane!!!!
Marketing Inaccuracy
I have returned from DC. The weather was an issue for my flights home along with mechanical problems in Memphis. The mechanical problems meant that I made my Memphis connection that the weather made doubtul, but I arrived home an hour later than originally scheduled. I am so glad that none of my family and friends had been called upon to pick me up that the airport and had to wait around for that extra hour. I love parking within the parking deck and strolling over to my car completley out of the rain.
I had a long wait at DC Reagan National because they took all six of us from the meeting who were flying out of that airport at the same time to save from renting a second car at a later time to accommodate my later flight schedule. (does that sentence make sense? ). So, I could have a. rented a taxi and gone back into town to run through a museum and rush back to the airport; b. gone to a restrauant in the airport and ordered my favorite crabcakes for a nice relaxing lunch. I chose b.
Now, I am flying on NWA which is located in an annex terminal about a 1/3 mile walk from the nice shops and restrauants in the main DC National terminal. The walkway is entirely inside and air conditioned (which makes a big difference in the DC humidity). The walk takes one past the original section of the airport that was constructed in 1940. It is a lovely place that is now used only for seating but most travelers don't see it if they don't explore the airport. It has a huge wall of windows looking out onto the loading areas and it used to have an outside observation area that is now closed off. The wall decorations are all great photos of the buidling of the airport or really cool 1940's original graphics. There is also an exhibit area that I chose not to visit because I had a new book that I wanted to read. Between reading during my lunch at Legal SeaFood (really, that is the name), sitting and reading in that very quiet origianal airport section and the time on the plane to Memphis (including the detours around thunderstorms and the holding pattern over Holly Springs, MS and sitting on the tarmac while it was lightening at the Memphis airport and the ramps had all been closed down) I finished the book I purchased before lunch. So, I had to buy the new Harry Potter in Memphis because I had nothing left to read on the long 45 minute flight from Memphis to Searcy.
Now, about that marketing inaccuracy....on the way to DC I ate a quick lunch at the Burger King in the LR airport. I noticed a sign on my BK bag that seemed to be announcing some new food category. Actually, it was merely naming, discussing a category of french fries. It seems that the BK corporation has decided to name the french fries that fall out of the paper french fry holder and land in the bottom of the sack. They are now called Bagglers. Ok, that is kinda clever and catchy. If the announcement had stopped there things would be just fine. BUT they (BK corporation) when on to say that the ownership of the Bagglers resides with the person emptying the contents of said bag......well, DUH! We all know that the ownership of any fries outside the official fry container is assigned to the first hand into the bag! At least everyone in our household knows that and has practiced it for the past 27 years. Burger King Corporation, please listen to me....that is incorrect. I would love responses to this. Do you not feel that the first hand into the burger/french fry bag gets to pick up any bagglers or do you feel that the last hand into the bag gets them as the marketing tactics by BK suggest?
In the Process of Packing
I am in the process of packing. Going to Washington, DC for two and ahlf days of non-stop meetings. It is a professional honor for me to be a part of these and I love the chance to go but the sitting becomes tedious. The good news is that the meeting room has wireless internet so I can sit towards the back of the room with my laptop and surf the web or catch up on emails. I am hoping for at least one crabcake while I am there.
Steel Magnolias is on TV right now. I do love a Southern story.
When I stumbled into the living room this morning and tuned in to watch Katie, Matt and Al (so that I can ease into my morning), I was so horrified to see the bombings in London. I have friends who are in London now, a daughter who was there two weeks ago, and friends who plan to be there in a month. I have friends in Italy, friends in Athens, friends in Tokoyo and friends on their way Iraq. I am praying that they are and will continue to be safe in God's care.
I detest any form of bullying. I don't like physical, mental, or commerical intimidation. I don't participate in organized boycotts, and I don't think one group of humans should be able to terrorize another group. I am ready for people of all nations to learn how to get along. Play nicely with each other. Won't heaven be great. For now I continue to pray for peace on earth.
Who's To Say What Normal Is?
I am watching Wizard of Oz for the millionth time. I love that one of the classic movie channels is playing it over and over today. Just now the part of the munchkins welcoming Dorthy was on. Every time I see it I am reminded of the international media director of a very well known non-profit organization. I don't know why it reminds me of him. When he was a student he made me think of the movie and the Lollypop Guild boys so now everytime I see the movie, I think of him. That memory reminds me that I associate people with visual experiences and in particular, video games. Each time I play certain video games, I think of certain people. Now these people have never actually been in my presence while I am playing the game, but one time while I was playing the game, I thought of that particular person and now everytime I play the game I think of that person. I know, I am supposed to be too old to play video games, but I love them. One last true confession...when I play video games, it becomes a "job" that I have to complete to the best of my ability and I must play again and again until I complete the job.
That's not normal is it?
