Anything Goes

My boss came in today and told me to cut out the IM and “diary thing.”

It was disheartening but I wasn’t “dooced.” *Sigh*

Don’t be upset with my boss, I’ll be the first to admit, as I already have, that my work has not been up to par recently. It is still my job. They still pay me. I must acquiesce, for now.

Before that, I was looking at the Millennium Tarot set featured in the post below and clicked on “free reading.” It randomly selected cards and then you could click on them to see the meanings. Guess, what I got in my “present” position? Just guess. Awwwwww, come on, guess…

All right, it was the farkin’ Tower card again. Now, I clicked on the “free reading” for fun but when I saw The Tower I just said, “Okay, I get the message.” Interestingly enough, the “mundane meaning” was along the lines of “a new and exciting journey” or something like that but also listed the standard “higher meaning” and the “reversed meaning.” So, okay, upheaval, intense somethingaruther, now you’re starting to scare me. Naw, that’s actually horseshit, I’m not. Its all about perception. Okay, so life might serve me a basket of lemons, I’ll make lemonade. Brave sounding aren’t I?

Really, I don’t see it so much as a warning as opposed to… a hey, hold my beer and watch this! Like, yo! You are not going to believe this shit! Pay attention this is gonna rock. your. world!! Aren’t you guys excited??? Upheaval awaits! Change is afoot! My new and exciting path lays before me!

You know the shit of it? Its never really that exciting. I mean, you expect, literally, like it is on the card, lightening is striking, and the flames are burnin’, people are bailin’ out… but in reality, its much more in the moment and hopefully there’s no flames, unless its some dude’s clothes.

Okay, enough of that. Since I love you peeps and I’m exhausted and still have to pack and all that jazz, I thought I would post the first two chapters of my erotica romance novella over at my NaNoWriMo site linked on the right. Its become a catch-all for meatloaf and tarot cards, not to mention the beginning chapters of MikeyJames and the NannerPeach. I really love that story, I’m going to work on it… not right now… later.

Peeps, I’m out. Have a wonderful weekend.

My boss came in today and told me to cut out the IM and “diary thing.”

It was disheartening but I wasn’t “dooced.” *Sigh*

Don’t be upset with my boss, I’ll be the first to admit, as I already have, that my work has not been up to par recently. It is still my job. They still pay me. I must acquiesce, for now.

Before that, I was looking at the Millennium Tarot set featured in the post below and clicked on “free reading.” It randomly selected cards and then you could click on them to see the meanings. Guess, what I got in my “present” position? Just guess. Awwwwww, come on, guess…

All right, it was the farkin’ Tower card again. Now, I clicked on the “free reading” for fun but when I saw The Tower I just said, “Okay, I get the message.” Interestingly enough, the “mundane meaning” was along the lines of “a new and exciting journey” or something like that but also listed the standard “higher meaning” and the “reversed meaning.” So, okay, upheaval, intense somethingaruther, now you’re starting to scare me. Naw, that’s actually horseshit, I’m not. Its all about perception. Okay, so life might serve me a basket of lemons, I’ll make lemonade. Brave sounding aren’t I?

Really, I don’t see it so much as a warning as opposed to… a hey, hold my beer and watch this! Like, yo! You are not going to believe this shit! Pay attention this is gonna rock. your. world!! Aren’t you guys excited??? Upheaval awaits! Change is afoot! My new and exciting path lays before me!

You know the shit of it? Its never really that exciting. I mean, you expect, literally, like it is on the card, lightening is striking, and the flames are burnin’, people are bailin’ out… but in reality, its much more in the moment and hopefully there’s no flames, unless its some dude’s clothes.

Okay, enough of that. Since I love you peeps and I’m exhausted and still have to pack and all that jazz, I thought I would post the first two chapters of my erotica romance novella over at my NaNoWriMo site linked on the right. Its become a catch-all for meatloaf and tarot cards, not to mention the beginning chapters of MikeyJames and the NannerPeach. I really love that story, I’m going to work on it… not right now… later.

Peeps, I’m out. Have a wonderful weekend.

Death. It has preoccupied my mind lately and I have wondered why. Because I’m boarding a jet plane on Friday? I’ve wondered and wondered and wondered. I even gave instructions to a very trusted friend and blogger, and now two, on what to do should I not make it to my destination. That’s scary isn’t it? What’s scarier is knowing I will indeed look death in the face. As I have looked it in the face numerous times this year.

I’m talking about a tarot sort of death. The Death card.

Image by Dorothy Krause

Death is the 13th card of the Major Arcana and corresponds to the astrological sign of Scorpio. Small wonder. The Death card is sometimes called Transformation as well. It is the card of rebirth. When I see the Death card in a reading, I am well aware that change is afoot. Part of me, or the person I’m reading, will die. They will shed some part of their skin and be reborn.

I can honestly say, were I to pick one card to represent my year, from May 27, 2004, until today, and up until May 27, 2005, the Death card has been MY card. I do feel reborn. As though I creep closer and closer to the person I truly want to be.

However, its this card, The Tower, which causes the confusion and trepidation.

Image by Dorothy Krause

Its number 16 and is ruled by the planet Mars, the ruling planet also of Scorpio. I dread this card. The Tower means upheaval, re-evaluation, necessary change yet that change is dramatic and sudden. But… what to think when it appears in a reading in a very positive position. The position of “what is going for you.” Not that the Tower can’t be a positive card, it can be. It can show us that this shocking moment can and will create new opportunities and make us stronger and wiser. Change is essential or we stagnate.

I talked to Celti about the Tower being in this strange position. Most of the time its in either the “past,” “near future,” or “distant future” positions, not a position in which the connotation is so positive. Ugh, so confusing! I’ve pondered the meaning over and over, as I have not pondered a meaning before. If I have pondered in the past, it is because I was too stubborn to accept the interpretation. Especially when the cards have spelled out how my own desires have clouded my judgment and warned me that it would end in ruin, destruction, and devastation. It has happened every time. No matter how much I imposed my will for it not to.

Does the card mean, in the position of what I have going for me, that I simply weather the upheavals of life well? Is this tenacity being pointed out to me to show that change is good, even dramatic change? Is it to remind me that even as I approach one thing in life that means so much to my heart, that I am not finished? That it is not time to become complacent and change must continue to endure? Or… is it to tell me that I am a catalyst for change to others? That I should not underestimate or devalue my impact on those around me?

Or is it? All the above? I am certain of one thing. I will find out and when I do, I will die and be reborn. Yet, I am also cognizant of what Phoebe wrote today (how thankful I am to the timeliness of this), that our “perceptions do not define Truth” and no matter how certain we are, certainty is subject to forces much bigger than certainty itself. Just another reminder that change continues, whether we allow it to swirl around us or sweep us up and away. Whether we instigate it or resist it. Whether it is welcome or dreaded.

Change is upon us.

Death. It has preoccupied my mind lately and I have wondered why. Because I’m boarding a jet plane on Friday? I’ve wondered and wondered and wondered. I even gave instructions to a very trusted friend and blogger, and now two, on what to do should I not make it to my destination. That’s scary isn’t it? What’s scarier is knowing I will indeed look death in the face. As I have looked it in the face numerous times this year.

I’m talking about a tarot sort of death. The Death card.

Image by Dorothy Krause

Death is the 13th card of the Major Arcana and corresponds to the astrological sign of Scorpio. Small wonder. The Death card is sometimes called Transformation as well. It is the card of rebirth. When I see the Death card in a reading, I am well aware that change is afoot. Part of me, or the person I’m reading, will die. They will shed some part of their skin and be reborn.

I can honestly say, were I to pick one card to represent my year, from May 27, 2004, until today, and up until May 27, 2005, the Death card has been MY card. I do feel reborn. As though I creep closer and closer to the person I truly want to be.

However, its this card, The Tower, which causes the confusion and trepidation.

Image by Dorothy Krause

Its number 16 and is ruled by the planet Mars, the ruling planet also of Scorpio. I dread this card. The Tower means upheaval, re-evaluation, necessary change yet that change is dramatic and sudden. But… what to think when it appears in a reading in a very positive position. The position of “what is going for you.” Not that the Tower can’t be a positive card, it can be. It can show us that this shocking moment can and will create new opportunities and make us stronger and wiser. Change is essential or we stagnate.

I talked to Celti about the Tower being in this strange position. Most of the time its in either the “past,” “near future,” or “distant future” positions, not a position in which the connotation is so positive. Ugh, so confusing! I’ve pondered the meaning over and over, as I have not pondered a meaning before. If I have pondered in the past, it is because I was too stubborn to accept the interpretation. Especially when the cards have spelled out how my own desires have clouded my judgment and warned me that it would end in ruin, destruction, and devastation. It has happened every time. No matter how much I imposed my will for it not to.

Does the card mean, in the position of what I have going for me, that I simply weather the upheavals of life well? Is this tenacity being pointed out to me to show that change is good, even dramatic change? Is it to remind me that even as I approach one thing in life that means so much to my heart, that I am not finished? That it is not time to become complacent and change must continue to endure? Or… is it to tell me that I am a catalyst for change to others? That I should not underestimate or devalue my impact on those around me?

Or is it? All the above? I am certain of one thing. I will find out and when I do, I will die and be reborn. Yet, I am also cognizant of what Phoebe wrote today (how thankful I am to the timeliness of this), that our “perceptions do not define Truth” and no matter how certain we are, certainty is subject to forces much bigger than certainty itself. Just another reminder that change continues, whether we allow it to swirl around us or sweep us up and away. Whether we instigate it or resist it. Whether it is welcome or dreaded.

Change is upon us.

Have you ever been going along and stop and wonder if you’re where you should be? Do you find yourself wondering why traffic seems lighter? Have you stopped and looked around wondering where everyone has gone? Why is everyone moving so slow when my mind moves so fast?

I did this today on my way home from work. The streets just didn’t seem to have as many people as before and the traffic back up on the Interstate doesn’t seem to be as bad and hasn’t been for a couple of weeks now. Maybe its been months.

My job doesn’t suck. I don’t suck at my job. We’ve just become incompatible. I sit and stare at the work knowing what I must do. Knowing I’m fully capable of knocking those two three-inch folders of medical records out but I find myself not giving two shits about the case. I feel sympathy for my client but I already know about toxic mold. I know how it comes to be and how hard it is to eradicate and you’re just better off building a new house and heaven forbid it should get in the duct work.

I know I’m doing a shitty job. My boss isn’t leaning on me too hard but he’s noticing I’m not turning over my work like I used to. And the shittiest thing is … I rarely, if ever, work to my potential. I don’t have to. They’re happy with 75%. To them it seems to be a 100. I seek ways to stimulate myself, none of which has anything to do with work. I can do it. But I don’t want to.

One of the other paralegals, Dee, drug in this morning late and just looked at me with disgust in her brown eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she said, “I just didn’t want to be here today.” The secretary said the same thing. A malaise has descended on us. Or perhaps they have caught it from me. Dee has been a paralegal for over 20 years. She told me the other day she was just sick of it. I failed to ask what she would do if she didn’t have to worry about supporting her husband.

That may be out of line on my part. Although, that empathic part of me says she bargained for something else other than she received and she’s too tired to buck it.

All of my vibrations have been centered on one thing and it seems as though my spirits are sitting back in breathless anticipation ready to pounce when the time is right to advance their agendas. They don’t always agree. Nothing like a spirit fight to get the blood pumping. I hate having to referee the voices in my head. Perhaps I shouldn’t say they’re sitting back… its more like they’re holding back, circling like a pack of jackals, waiting. I mean that in the most positive way possible.

One part of me says I need to stick to what I know and I need to make money if I’m going to move. Yeah, this is true. The other part says I need to stop blogging so much, stop having the comfort of writing a stream of conscious missive instead of something I have to think about and develop. Not that telling a story and writing like this isn’t good, it is. But it has its pitfalls as well.

I found my erotica novella in hard copy and set about reading it and naturally, editing. It feels good. It feels good to look at this thick pile of papers and know that I wrote all of those words. I wrote them and they invoke passion and sadness and joy and excitement. And so many other things.

That is so powerful. I just can’t waste that gift.

(To be continued…)

Have you ever been going along and stop and wonder if you’re where you should be? Do you find yourself wondering why traffic seems lighter? Have you stopped and looked around wondering where everyone has gone? Why is everyone moving so slow when my mind moves so fast?

I did this today on my way home from work. The streets just didn’t seem to have as many people as before and the traffic back up on the Interstate doesn’t seem to be as bad and hasn’t been for a couple of weeks now. Maybe its been months.

My job doesn’t suck. I don’t suck at my job. We’ve just become incompatible. I sit and stare at the work knowing what I must do. Knowing I’m fully capable of knocking those two three-inch folders of medical records out but I find myself not giving two shits about the case. I feel sympathy for my client but I already know about toxic mold. I know how it comes to be and how hard it is to eradicate and you’re just better off building a new house and heaven forbid it should get in the duct work.

I know I’m doing a shitty job. My boss isn’t leaning on me too hard but he’s noticing I’m not turning over my work like I used to. And the shittiest thing is … I rarely, if ever, work to my potential. I don’t have to. They’re happy with 75%. To them it seems to be a 100. I seek ways to stimulate myself, none of which has anything to do with work. I can do it. But I don’t want to.

One of the other paralegals, Dee, drug in this morning late and just looked at me with disgust in her brown eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she said, “I just didn’t want to be here today.” The secretary said the same thing. A malaise has descended on us. Or perhaps they have caught it from me. Dee has been a paralegal for over 20 years. She told me the other day she was just sick of it. I failed to ask what she would do if she didn’t have to worry about supporting her husband.

That may be out of line on my part. Although, that empathic part of me says she bargained for something else other than she received and she’s too tired to buck it.

All of my vibrations have been centered on one thing and it seems as though my spirits are sitting back in breathless anticipation ready to pounce when the time is right to advance their agendas. They don’t always agree. Nothing like a spirit fight to get the blood pumping. I hate having to referee the voices in my head. Perhaps I shouldn’t say they’re sitting back… its more like they’re holding back, circling like a pack of jackals, waiting. I mean that in the most positive way possible.

One part of me says I need to stick to what I know and I need to make money if I’m going to move. Yeah, this is true. The other part says I need to stop blogging so much, stop having the comfort of writing a stream of conscious missive instead of something I have to think about and develop. Not that telling a story and writing like this isn’t good, it is. But it has its pitfalls as well.

I found my erotica novella in hard copy and set about reading it and naturally, editing. It feels good. It feels good to look at this thick pile of papers and know that I wrote all of those words. I wrote them and they invoke passion and sadness and joy and excitement. And so many other things.

That is so powerful. I just can’t waste that gift.

(To be continued…)

What I’m gonna blog about… well, I dunno. Let’s just go along and see what happens. See, its not that I don’t have ideas its, well, there’s just too many. Or they’re just short. Or they sound good in my head but don’t transfer to paper well. So, maybe I’ll just talk out of my head.

My topic right now is ‘Ted.’ Ted came up in conversation last night and I just thought of him again. There are some famous Teds. Ted Bundy, Ted Koppel, Ted(dy) Roosevelt, Ted Kennedy, Sr./Jr., Ted(dy) Pendergrass, Ted… Ted… ummm… Ted-d-d-d-d *pbbfffbbbtt* Okay, enough Teds. Ted and I met by accident. He thought I was someone else, and I thought he was someone else. We were at the big band festival in a town nearby but he lived quite a distance away where my parents live now! We exchanged addresses and became pen pals.

I was very, very sweet on Ted. He was my first love. No, he didn’t love me back. He joined the service, met some other chick, and buh-bye Nanna. We had a terrible falling out over that (he called and said, “Hey, I’m getting married.” Ever feel your heart drop to your feet? I didn’t take it well and I think my next letter was full of pain and anger and he wrote back that I was inconsiderate and immature) and eventually I threw all of his letters away. You know, for some reason, I would really like to read those now. It would be like a time capsule in a way. I remember we used to find new ways to say good-bye in foreign languages at the end of our letters.

But there is something else I remember about Ted. He was a FUCKING TERRIBLE KISSER!!! Oh my God!! HORRIBLE!! Let me explain… he had very thin lips, which is fine, BUT, he didn’t use them, he used his entire mouth. Have you guys seen the commerical where the cartoon dude is brushing his teeth and he opens his mouth to get the back teeth and its like his face just flattens out and its nothing but teeth? That always reminded me of Ted. He was like a fucking python, unhinged jaw, dark beady eyes… YIKES!! He would use his teeth to scrape from under your nose and part of your chin up to your mouth with plenty of tongue, but it never went IN your mouth… it just kinda slimed around on the outside.

Damn, I had some serious chapping problems. Its like, you get a tube of Chapstick © and use it on your whole face, right out of “House of Wax” with Vincent Price. (Killer flick - Muwhahahahahaahaa)

Lemme tell ’bout the Meatloaf Man. My girlfriends, Beki, Kelli, and myself, were out running around one night and stopped off at another friend’s house, where I promptly fell alseep. Kelli woke me up and told me it was late we needed to get back to her house where we were all spending the night. It was probably about 2:30-3:00 a.m. Now, Kelli was older than us but lived with her dad and stepmom after her divorce and she had two kids to raise. Her step-brother and step-sister lived there as well so we didn’t want to disturb anyone coming in.

Kelli lived in the ritzy hill section above the city where there is never any parking. I found a spot about four cars down from her place and as we got out of the car we saw a figure standing under the streetlight. He raised his hands like a grizzly bear and came towards us mumbling about something. Beki told me later what she heard, but I didn’t really hear shit. I had it in my mind that we three could take him. Problem is, the girls had a different idea. Flee!

When Beki grabbed my hand the phenomena of what I called “transference” occurred. Before she touched me I was perfectly calm and ready to take this son of a bitch on. The moment her hand touched my arm though, she transferred all of her fear through it and into me. I froze. The next thing I remember Kelli and Beki are dragging me behind them down the sharply inclined driveway with Meatloaf Man in hot pursuit.

The space between the car and the carport was barely big enough for a normal sized person to walk and they bounced me between the two like a pinball. As luck would have it, the front door was unlocked and we got inside and shut the door in Meatloaf Man’s face. He started pounding on the door, cussing, telling us to let him in. The most incredible thing is… we had not murmured a sound up to this point because we didn’t want to wake up Kelli’s dad and get in trouble!

So, we got Meatloaf Man at the door. It was one of those with the three diagonal windows. Kelli is on the phone, or rather she picked the phone up and asked, “What’s the num-ber? What’s the num-ber?” I stage whispered, “9-1-1! 9-1-1!” Beki is holding her shaking hands out in front of her almost hyperventilating. As soon as she had let me go, I was back to, “We can take him!!” I grabbed the nearest weapon, a 14 ” cast iron skillet, and told Beki to “open the door.” She just stood there shaking. “Beki, open the door, open the door, open the door.” I had the skillet drawn back like a Louisville Slugger and all I needed was for her to open the door and let him in so I could nail him.

Instead the door to the basement opened and scared the shit out of all of us. It was Kelli’s dad and he had a shotgun. He walked over to the door and parted the curtains with the barrel. Meatloaf Man began apologizing and ran away. There were 50 cops on the hill within three minutes yet they couldn’t find this dude, dressed in ‘grunge,’ who looked like a very dirty, nappy haired version of Meatloaf.

Um, excuse me… wrong Meat Loaf! Can I get some help here?? Geeez Louise, gotta do everything myself.

Here he is. Hey, he looks good here. Anyway, seems that Meatloaf Man and one of his buddies had walked into the house and were eating my friend’s fried chicken!!! This was about 30 minutes after we left so Kelli’s dad was already on the look out when he heard us in the kitchen. When the cops asked us for a description the three of us said, “He looks like Meat Loaf!” Then we continued with the, “nappy hair, nasty, foul, dirty” description.

Not long afterwards, I read an article in a local gossip rag where a guy had pulled a knife in a club. He was described as, “a very nappy haired dude who looked like Meat Loaf.” Indeed, our Meatloaf Man.

What I’m gonna blog about… well, I dunno. Let’s just go along and see what happens. See, its not that I don’t have ideas its, well, there’s just too many. Or they’re just short. Or they sound good in my head but don’t transfer to paper well. So, maybe I’ll just talk out of my head.

My topic right now is ‘Ted.’ Ted came up in conversation last night and I just thought of him again. There are some famous Teds. Ted Bundy, Ted Koppel, Ted(dy) Roosevelt, Ted Kennedy, Sr./Jr., Ted(dy) Pendergrass, Ted… Ted… ummm… Ted-d-d-d-d *pbbfffbbbtt* Okay, enough Teds. Ted and I met by accident. He thought I was someone else, and I thought he was someone else. We were at the big band festival in a town nearby but he lived quite a distance away where my parents live now! We exchanged addresses and became pen pals.

I was very, very sweet on Ted. He was my first love. No, he didn’t love me back. He joined the service, met some other chick, and buh-bye Nanna. We had a terrible falling out over that (he called and said, “Hey, I’m getting married.” Ever feel your heart drop to your feet? I didn’t take it well and I think my next letter was full of pain and anger and he wrote back that I was inconsiderate and immature) and eventually I threw all of his letters away. You know, for some reason, I would really like to read those now. It would be like a time capsule in a way. I remember we used to find new ways to say good-bye in foreign languages at the end of our letters.

But there is something else I remember about Ted. He was a FUCKING TERRIBLE KISSER!!! Oh my God!! HORRIBLE!! Let me explain… he had very thin lips, which is fine, BUT, he didn’t use them, he used his entire mouth. Have you guys seen the commerical where the cartoon dude is brushing his teeth and he opens his mouth to get the back teeth and its like his face just flattens out and its nothing but teeth? That always reminded me of Ted. He was like a fucking python, unhinged jaw, dark beady eyes… YIKES!! He would use his teeth to scrape from under your nose and part of your chin up to your mouth with plenty of tongue, but it never went IN your mouth… it just kinda slimed around on the outside.

Damn, I had some serious chapping problems. Its like, you get a tube of Chapstick © and use it on your whole face, right out of “House of Wax” with Vincent Price. (Killer flick - Muwhahahahahaahaa)

Lemme tell ’bout the Meatloaf Man. My girlfriends, Beki, Kelli, and myself, were out running around one night and stopped off at another friend’s house, where I promptly fell alseep. Kelli woke me up and told me it was late we needed to get back to her house where we were all spending the night. It was probably about 2:30-3:00 a.m. Now, Kelli was older than us but lived with her dad and stepmom after her divorce and she had two kids to raise. Her step-brother and step-sister lived there as well so we didn’t want to disturb anyone coming in.

Kelli lived in the ritzy hill section above the city where there is never any parking. I found a spot about four cars down from her place and as we got out of the car we saw a figure standing under the streetlight. He raised his hands like a grizzly bear and came towards us mumbling about something. Beki told me later what she heard, but I didn’t really hear shit. I had it in my mind that we three could take him. Problem is, the girls had a different idea. Flee!

When Beki grabbed my hand the phenomena of what I called “transference” occurred. Before she touched me I was perfectly calm and ready to take this son of a bitch on. The moment her hand touched my arm though, she transferred all of her fear through it and into me. I froze. The next thing I remember Kelli and Beki are dragging me behind them down the sharply inclined driveway with Meatloaf Man in hot pursuit.

The space between the car and the carport was barely big enough for a normal sized person to walk and they bounced me between the two like a pinball. As luck would have it, the front door was unlocked and we got inside and shut the door in Meatloaf Man’s face. He started pounding on the door, cussing, telling us to let him in. The most incredible thing is… we had not murmured a sound up to this point because we didn’t want to wake up Kelli’s dad and get in trouble!

So, we got Meatloaf Man at the door. It was one of those with the three diagonal windows. Kelli is on the phone, or rather she picked the phone up and asked, “What’s the num-ber? What’s the num-ber?” I stage whispered, “9-1-1! 9-1-1!” Beki is holding her shaking hands out in front of her almost hyperventilating. As soon as she had let me go, I was back to, “We can take him!!” I grabbed the nearest weapon, a 14 ” cast iron skillet, and told Beki to “open the door.” She just stood there shaking. “Beki, open the door, open the door, open the door.” I had the skillet drawn back like a Louisville Slugger and all I needed was for her to open the door and let him in so I could nail him.

Instead the door to the basement opened and scared the shit out of all of us. It was Kelli’s dad and he had a shotgun. He walked over to the door and parted the curtains with the barrel. Meatloaf Man began apologizing and ran away. There were 50 cops on the hill within three minutes yet they couldn’t find this dude, dressed in ‘grunge,’ who looked like a very dirty, nappy haired version of Meatloaf.

Um, excuse me… wrong Meat Loaf! Can I get some help here?? Geeez Louise, gotta do everything myself.

Here he is. Hey, he looks good here. Anyway, seems that Meatloaf Man and one of his buddies had walked into the house and were eating my friend’s fried chicken!!! This was about 30 minutes after we left so Kelli’s dad was already on the look out when he heard us in the kitchen. When the cops asked us for a description the three of us said, “He looks like Meat Loaf!” Then we continued with the, “nappy hair, nasty, foul, dirty” description.

Not long afterwards, I read an article in a local gossip rag where a guy had pulled a knife in a club. He was described as, “a very nappy haired dude who looked like Meat Loaf.” Indeed, our Meatloaf Man.

I’ve been a paralegal for 8 long years. In that time, I’ve dealt with quite a number of death cases. Whether they be misdiagnosed or undiagnosed cancers, slip and falls of delirious elderly people who have been given the wrong dosage of medication (or just the wrong medication for that matter) resulting in broken hips, accidental overdoses, and, of course, car accidents.

Then there are the ones who haven’t died. The ones with life-threatening lupus, toxic shock syndrome, broken bodies put back together by wires and plates and screws. The severely mentally incapacitated young man who was allowed to swallow a glove (yeah, a glove, a yellow plastic Playtex© glove). The list goes on.

Because of this experience, I have researched different types of diseases and their symptoms, read, quite possibly, over 50,000 pages of medical records, medical journals, and expert reports, that I should at least qualify to be a physician’s assistant by now. I have researched front impacts, side impacts, air-bag deployment, seat belt failure, and blood alcohol extrapolation (understanding how and at what rate alcohol leaves the blood stream). I have other bits and pieces of information stuck in my head from other random cases and things I’ve picked up along the way.

That’s what I would like to share with you today. These bits and pieces, some of which may appear to be common sense, others which are not, starting with:

HIGHWAY SAFETY:

* Seatbelts do save lives. Only a small percentage of deaths are caused by wearing a seatbelt. I’ve never had a client die from wearing one, but I’ve seen them die from not wearing one.

* Wear your seatbelt correctly. The lap portion should be as low around the hips as possible, the torso belt should rest snugly against the chest and shoulder. If you’re taller, shorter, skinnier, fatter than a test dummy, they make all sorts of contraptions so it does fit. If the lap belt is across your stomach it can cause injury during an impact. Do not place the torso belt under your arm or behind your back. If its under your shoulder it can cause severe impact injuries to the rib cage resulting in internal injuries and one or more punctured lungs. (I’ve seen it happen.) It’s also useless at preventing the head from hitting the air-bag, steering wheel, or dashboard. You will be ugly for a long time, dead, or a vegetable.

* 18 wheelers will win. Learn where their blind spots are. If you can’t see them, they can’t see you. Speed up, slow down, do whatever is necessary, but do NOT travel in their blind spot. If they want your spot on the road, give it to them. I know, they can be really rude, but sometimes, they just want over so as not to interfere with the flow of traffic. If they hit you, you will have a very, very bad day. They will win. Let me say that ONE MORE TIME… THEY. WILL. WIN.

* Watch tractor-trailers especially in tricky curves. Their loads can shift causing them to tip. Again, you will not win. Back off and give these big trucks some space. If one of them squashes you, you won’t survive to make it where you’re going anyway.

* If you’re in a situation where one of these big guys is across the road in front of you, or any other big truck which sits off the ground… pay attention children… steer for the tires!! STEER. FOR. THE. TIRES. If you don’t, your vehicle will be carried underneath the frame rendering practically every single safety feature on your vehicle useless. If you hit the tires chances are better that your crumple zones will crumple, your air-bag will deploy, and you’ll survive.

I learned that from a volunteer fireman who was involved in this type of accident. He survived, barely. A young woman in the same situation was carried under the truck and was killed.

* Along those same lines, when you brake sharply the front end of your car goes down. If you hit anything taller than the front end of your car, the air-bag sensors will not go off! This happens especially with car/truck head on collisions. When the front end of the car goes down, the truck can override the hood area. This is bad. What to do? I don’t have a good answer for this. It’s the same reason good people instead of drunks end up dead or with broken bones. We’re coherent and brace ourselves. The drunks don’t. My best advice… be a sober drunk.

* Sit as far away from the steering wheel as possible. Two reasons: 1.) Air-bag. Most air-bags are deployed by “rapidly oxidizing solid rocket fuel” in 1/30th of a second. You don’t want to be sitting too close to this phenomena. 2.) The closer you sit to the steering wheel/dashboard increases your chance of impact injuries, especially that nasty “blunt force chest trauma.”

Regardless, I’m sorry to report, there are some impacts which will cause death regardless. Remember, your body, internal organs, and brain are still traveling at whatever speed the car was traveling and the rapid deceleration will cause all of your organs to be crushed against your skeletal system. I know… ugly thought. Slow the fuck down.

* Side impacts are more likely to cause severe brain damage, even at low speeds. An extra second at a stop light can save your brain. There is an intersection near my home where people continue to make a left turn across a busy two lane highway without being able to see oncoming traffic for a variety of reasons. The speed limit there is 50 mph. Typical speed is 60 mph. Imagine… again, ugly thought.

* Motorcycles can stop A LOT FASTER than a car. If ya wanna tailgate… tailgate a big rig, not a motorcycle.

* Do not attempt to jump from a moving vehicle at any time. This is only for stunt people in movies. If you still insist upon doing so, do so on the open road and not in the woods where you can then become trapped between said moving vehicle and a tree. Yes, I’ve seen it.

* Don’t drink and drive. I guarantee your blood alcohol level is higher than you think it is.

MEDICAL TREATMENT:

* Always have an advocate to be a royal pain in the ass for you. Make this someone who is not afraid to confront shitty nursing care with an “in your face” style. I’m sorry Jamie. The nurses around here really, really suck!

* If both of your parents die from colon cancer in their late 50’s/early 60’s and it’s the kind that is in the UPPER part of the colon, which causes practically NO SYMPTOMS until its too late… have a colonoscopy immediately!! Yes, one of our clients had both of his parents die within two years of each other from the same type of colon cancer and NEVER HAD A COLONOSCOPY!!! Until… it was too late. Research shows this type of cancer begins with polyps in the patient’s 20’s. EDUCATE YOURSELF!!!

* Auto-immune disorders (lupus, hypothyroidism, diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis) in your family history cause other auto-immune disorders. Example: My grandfather had lupus. My mom and aunts have hypothyroidism, diabetes, and rheumatoid arthritis. Their children do too.

* Yearly check-ups, period. Monthly breasts exams, period. Monthly scrotal exams, period. Yeah guys, I’m talking to you. Come on! Feel yourself up, I know you want to!! Here’s how I see it. It may be embarrassing and uncomfortable for some doctor to stick his finger up your rectum, it may be embarrassing and uncomfortable to have a cold, slimy “metal snatch spreader” (thanks Brighton for those LOVELY words) shoved up your twat, and as you get older it only gets worse, but how embarrassing and uncomfortable is it to have your testicles removed? Or your uterus? Or any other body part? Cancer happens. We can do some things to prevent it, but a lot of the time, we just need to catch it!

Case in point: A friend of my family thought since she wasn’t having any more children that she didn’t really need to have that yearly pap smear. She thought that for seven years until the back pain she was experiencing became so intense she finally had to go to the doctor. She had spinal cancer which had spread from her uterus. Her goal was to live long enough to see both of her daughters graduate from high school. She only made it for one.

Case in point: Lex’s father had a sore come out on his shoulder that wouldn’t heal. He kept thinking it would get better. By the time he did go to the doctor he had advanced malignant melanoma which had already metasticized. I believe he died within a year, maybe two. Lex now wears long sleeves year round and basically lives like a bat because he is terrified of it.

However, I also aware there are peeps like a man from my community who went to give blood, they found leukemia in his screening, and he was dead within six months. Or my Grandpa, who hated doctors, never had PSA screening, or a colonoscopy or any other type of health screening and still lived to be a healthy, ornery, 85 years old.

But hey, let’s catch what we can.

* Know your body. Whip out that mirror and take a gander at your nether regions and your back. If you get the feeling something is not right, how are you supposed to know what looks ‘normal’ if you don’t see it when its normal?? Guys, I’m talking to you too.

* If you have the “feeling” something is “not right,” trust yourself. Trust yourself and advocate for yourself.

PERSONAL SAFETY:

Cosmopolitan magazine has an article this month about rape. We all know to watch ourselves on the streets, parking garages, lock our car doors, etc. They point out how unsafe we are at home. I can’t tell you how many times I get out of my car, walk to my front door, less than five yards away, and never look around me. Even at night. Why? Because, I’M FIVE YARDS FROM MY FRONT DOOR!!! I have neighbors on either side of within five yards. I’m totally safe… right?

What do you think? I didn’t get to read the entire article but the tagline was enough for me.

*****

That’s all for today. I hope you guys and gals have a safe weekend… and don’t forget to feel yourself up!! (For some reason “preview” and “spell check” are not coming up… enjoy my mistakes.)

I’ve been a paralegal for 8 long years. In that time, I’ve dealt with quite a number of death cases. Whether they be misdiagnosed or undiagnosed cancers, slip and falls of delirious elderly people who have been given the wrong dosage of medication (or just the wrong medication for that matter) resulting in broken hips, accidental overdoses, and, of course, car accidents.

Then there are the ones who haven’t died. The ones with life-threatening lupus, toxic shock syndrome, broken bodies put back together by wires and plates and screws. The severely mentally incapacitated young man who was allowed to swallow a glove (yeah, a glove, a yellow plastic Playtex© glove). The list goes on.

Because of this experience, I have researched different types of diseases and their symptoms, read, quite possibly, over 50,000 pages of medical records, medical journals, and expert reports, that I should at least qualify to be a physician’s assistant by now. I have researched front impacts, side impacts, air-bag deployment, seat belt failure, and blood alcohol extrapolation (understanding how and at what rate alcohol leaves the blood stream). I have other bits and pieces of information stuck in my head from other random cases and things I’ve picked up along the way.

That’s what I would like to share with you today. These bits and pieces, some of which may appear to be common sense, others which are not, starting with:

HIGHWAY SAFETY:

* Seatbelts do save lives. Only a small percentage of deaths are caused by wearing a seatbelt. I’ve never had a client die from wearing one, but I’ve seen them die from not wearing one.

* Wear your seatbelt correctly. The lap portion should be as low around the hips as possible, the torso belt should rest snugly against the chest and shoulder. If you’re taller, shorter, skinnier, fatter than a test dummy, they make all sorts of contraptions so it does fit. If the lap belt is across your stomach it can cause injury during an impact. Do not place the torso belt under your arm or behind your back. If its under your shoulder it can cause severe impact injuries to the rib cage resulting in internal injuries and one or more punctured lungs. (I’ve seen it happen.) It’s also useless at preventing the head from hitting the air-bag, steering wheel, or dashboard. You will be ugly for a long time, dead, or a vegetable.

* 18 wheelers will win. Learn where their blind spots are. If you can’t see them, they can’t see you. Speed up, slow down, do whatever is necessary, but do NOT travel in their blind spot. If they want your spot on the road, give it to them. I know, they can be really rude, but sometimes, they just want over so as not to interfere with the flow of traffic. If they hit you, you will have a very, very bad day. They will win. Let me say that ONE MORE TIME… THEY. WILL. WIN.

* Watch tractor-trailers especially in tricky curves. Their loads can shift causing them to tip. Again, you will not win. Back off and give these big trucks some space. If one of them squashes you, you won’t survive to make it where you’re going anyway.

* If you’re in a situation where one of these big guys is across the road in front of you, or any other big truck which sits off the ground… pay attention children… steer for the tires!! STEER. FOR. THE. TIRES. If you don’t, your vehicle will be carried underneath the frame rendering practically every single safety feature on your vehicle useless. If you hit the tires chances are better that your crumple zones will crumple, your air-bag will deploy, and you’ll survive.

I learned that from a volunteer fireman who was involved in this type of accident. He survived, barely. A young woman in the same situation was carried under the truck and was killed.

* Along those same lines, when you brake sharply the front end of your car goes down. If you hit anything taller than the front end of your car, the air-bag sensors will not go off! This happens especially with car/truck head on collisions. When the front end of the car goes down, the truck can override the hood area. This is bad. What to do? I don’t have a good answer for this. It’s the same reason good people instead of drunks end up dead or with broken bones. We’re coherent and brace ourselves. The drunks don’t. My best advice… be a sober drunk.

* Sit as far away from the steering wheel as possible. Two reasons: 1.) Air-bag. Most air-bags are deployed by “rapidly oxidizing solid rocket fuel” in 1/30th of a second. You don’t want to be sitting too close to this phenomena. 2.) The closer you sit to the steering wheel/dashboard increases your chance of impact injuries, especially that nasty “blunt force chest trauma.”

Regardless, I’m sorry to report, there are some impacts which will cause death regardless. Remember, your body, internal organs, and brain are still traveling at whatever speed the car was traveling and the rapid deceleration will cause all of your organs to be crushed against your skeletal system. I know… ugly thought. Slow the fuck down.

* Side impacts are more likely to cause severe brain damage, even at low speeds. An extra second at a stop light can save your brain. There is an intersection near my home where people continue to make a left turn across a busy two lane highway without being able to see oncoming traffic for a variety of reasons. The speed limit there is 50 mph. Typical speed is 60 mph. Imagine… again, ugly thought.

* Motorcycles can stop A LOT FASTER than a car. If ya wanna tailgate… tailgate a big rig, not a motorcycle.

* Do not attempt to jump from a moving vehicle at any time. This is only for stunt people in movies. If you still insist upon doing so, do so on the open road and not in the woods where you can then become trapped between said moving vehicle and a tree. Yes, I’ve seen it.

* Don’t drink and drive. I guarantee your blood alcohol level is higher than you think it is.

MEDICAL TREATMENT:

* Always have an advocate to be a royal pain in the ass for you. Make this someone who is not afraid to confront shitty nursing care with an “in your face” style. I’m sorry Jamie. The nurses around here really, really suck!

* If both of your parents die from colon cancer in their late 50’s/early 60’s and it’s the kind that is in the UPPER part of the colon, which causes practically NO SYMPTOMS until its too late… have a colonoscopy immediately!! Yes, one of our clients had both of his parents die within two years of each other from the same type of colon cancer and NEVER HAD A COLONOSCOPY!!! Until… it was too late. Research shows this type of cancer begins with polyps in the patient’s 20’s. EDUCATE YOURSELF!!!

* Auto-immune disorders (lupus, hypothyroidism, diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis) in your family history cause other auto-immune disorders. Example: My grandfather had lupus. My mom and aunts have hypothyroidism, diabetes, and rheumatoid arthritis. Their children do too.

* Yearly check-ups, period. Monthly breasts exams, period. Monthly scrotal exams, period. Yeah guys, I’m talking to you. Come on! Feel yourself up, I know you want to!! Here’s how I see it. It may be embarrassing and uncomfortable for some doctor to stick his finger up your rectum, it may be embarrassing and uncomfortable to have a cold, slimy “metal snatch spreader” (thanks Brighton for those LOVELY words) shoved up your twat, and as you get older it only gets worse, but how embarrassing and uncomfortable is it to have your testicles removed? Or your uterus? Or any other body part? Cancer happens. We can do some things to prevent it, but a lot of the time, we just need to catch it!

Case in point: A friend of my family thought since she wasn’t having any more children that she didn’t really need to have that yearly pap smear. She thought that for seven years until the back pain she was experiencing became so intense she finally had to go to the doctor. She had spinal cancer which had spread from her uterus. Her goal was to live long enough to see both of her daughters graduate from high school. She only made it for one.

Case in point: Lex’s father had a sore come out on his shoulder that wouldn’t heal. He kept thinking it would get better. By the time he did go to the doctor he had advanced malignant melanoma which had already metasticized. I believe he died within a year, maybe two. Lex now wears long sleeves year round and basically lives like a bat because he is terrified of it.

However, I also aware there are peeps like a man from my community who went to give blood, they found leukemia in his screening, and he was dead within six months. Or my Grandpa, who hated doctors, never had PSA screening, or a colonoscopy or any other type of health screening and still lived to be a healthy, ornery, 85 years old.

But hey, let’s catch what we can.

* Know your body. Whip out that mirror and take a gander at your nether regions and your back. If you get the feeling something is not right, how are you supposed to know what looks ‘normal’ if you don’t see it when its normal?? Guys, I’m talking to you too.

* If you have the “feeling” something is “not right,” trust yourself. Trust yourself and advocate for yourself.

PERSONAL SAFETY:

Cosmopolitan magazine has an article this month about rape. We all know to watch ourselves on the streets, parking garages, lock our car doors, etc. They point out how unsafe we are at home. I can’t tell you how many times I get out of my car, walk to my front door, less than five yards away, and never look around me. Even at night. Why? Because, I’M FIVE YARDS FROM MY FRONT DOOR!!! I have neighbors on either side of within five yards. I’m totally safe… right?

What do you think? I didn’t get to read the entire article but the tagline was enough for me.

*****

That’s all for today. I hope you guys and gals have a safe weekend… and don’t forget to feel yourself up!! (For some reason “preview” and “spell check” are not coming up… enjoy my mistakes.)