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Wednesday, July 14, 2010

I Live To Serve.

I have been remiss of late in blogging. This is something most likely noticed by myself, as I have doubts anyone really reads this. Blogging, I think, is the "I'm Okay, You're Okay" of the new millennium. That book, btw, was a piece of crap and should have been re-named "I'm okay and you're not but I'm going to tell you how to be okay like me." I think we blog because we all know this stuff but no one wants to publish us, they publish Molly Ringwald. Molly Ringwald has written a self-help book and someone paid her good money for the privilege of bringing it to us, the unwashed masses, and it's as close as your kindle. They publish books like "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus." THAT was a best seller. Some GUY writes a book in which he opines that men and women aren't put together the same way.

THAT explains it! Damn, I hadn't thought of that until John Gray PhD. told me that. And then he told me how to deal with men because, up until he wrote that book I had no idea. Until he explained it to me I used to wonder why I don't announce to the world I'm awake every morning with an earth shattering fart, followed up with the requisite butt scratch. This, btw, is something men can't help, it's genetic. I remember watching, in awe, my 2 year old son one morning, as he toddled into the living room, stopped in front of the television to see what was on and stuck his little hand down the back of his diaper to scratch his butt. And, while we on the subject, no, Dr. Freud, I never really wanted one of those things. Although, I must admit, there are times I think it would be nice to have the ability to aim. I remember several years ago we were leaving Las Vegas (now, there's a title if I ever heard one) and a truck overturned on the I-15 south.

Now, if you've ever driven in or out of Vegas you know, there's ONLY one way in or out and that's the I-15. At least once you pass the cut off that'll take you through Henderson and into Laughlin and the I-40. Well anyway, there we were, thousands of us stuck on a two lane highway that's been closed down by the CHP. After about 90 minutes I threw my empty Big Gulp cup out the window, it was mocking me. I immediately regretted this, as the reason I threw it out the window was because it reminded me of the quart of liquid I had consumed with NO WAY of processing now. Eventually I gave up and walked to the side of the road where I then skidded down the gravel embankment and found something resembling a dead bush in the middle of the summer desert. After several furtive looks around I dropped trou...and was immediately caught by a pleasant desert breeze, which blew everything I was leaving in the dead bush back into my shoe.

See? The ability to aim would have been handy. So would the Big Gulp cup.

Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that blogging is the new self-help. Except instead of pouring our hard earned money into someone else's idea of what will make us trod the straight and narrow path to normalcy and unspeakable popularity we simply peruse blog sites looking to see who's life sucks more than ours does. Now I personally have decided that anyone who is single has it worse than I do, but this isn't about a blog, it's about a phone call.

A couple of days ago it was discovered that a one time friend and now acquaintance of my little group of friends had died. This is sad news, absolutely. She was in her 70s, about 20 years older, give or take, than we are. She was not in good health, and was in the hospital. A single friend of mine called me the day we found out. She called me during "Jeopardy!" Normally we don't answer the phone during "Jeopardy!" so this was all partly my fault. Twenty minutes later I'm still listening and clucking while she worries that no one mentioned the company we all used to work at, which is where we all met, in the woman's obit and what an oversight that was and she just doesn't understand it all.

And the entire time I'm thinking "um, okay, I've missed Final Jeopardy, my dinner is burning and just because YOU don't work therefore 7 p.m. is just another hour in your day I DO and I've only been home an hour and there are two kids, a husband and a cat waiting for me to feed them will you get to the freaking POINT?" Then I thought, well, maybe if she wasn't single she'd have a clue about what goes on in the rest of the world and might have something else to worry about besides an event that, while sad, can't be changed. This, by the way, is why many people think I'm a cold hearted bitch, I know that. Remember though, I was raised in a family who's motto was "don't wake me up in the middle of the night, great-grandma will still be dead in the morning."

What's really sick is that I'm still without a car and therefore can't go to the funeral which is out-of-state and, a mere two weeks later hasn't taken place yet. God help me, after my initial "Holy crap, are you kidding me?" when I heard the news my second thought was "ROAD TRIP!"

Not only did she live out-of-state, she lived on a route peppered with Cracker Barrels. We don't have Cracker Barrels where I live.

See? What'd I say? Self-Help. My practicality is your "man, that woman is nuts." And now you feel better about yourself and your own life. Which is why I'm here. Yeah, that's why I do it.

Works for me.

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