The Haves and the Have-Nots

Following a routine check-up I decided to explore the town where my doctor’s office is located. An industrial steel town, Middletown, Ohio houses the archetypal United States blue collar working class. I hate to admit we’ve always considered the city a bit depressing.

Not the most picturesque skyline...

Another business that utilizes the
local railways, whatever this is...

Interspersed between the stark mills, grimy factories, and bleak processing plants, many neighborhood residences make our humble abode appear as a grand estate. My tour really made me pause and give thanks.

These side lots are miniscule...

A nice porch, for sure...

Neatly kept tiny home...

More spacious houses...

The vehicle at far left clearly needs maintenance...

Now here we have these stunning hilltop houses. I suppose the steel barons contracted the mansions on Middletown’s Monument Avenue. These appear newer to varying degrees.

A rambling home...

I want to see this interior!

What fabulous, extraneous architecture...

More modest, but look at that garage door...

Seeing this image, my husband wrongly believed
this to be a multi-family home...

I believe capitalism, however flawed, generally benefits my fellow citizens. The lopsided economics here make my head spin.

Can you imagine I wanted to be an architect until the math defeated me? Would you choose any of these homes, whether modest or affluent?

My “Peaceful” Walk in the Woods

This morning I decided to get some fresh air out in nature, and even found a new park to explore. Almost immediately I heard sirens wailing. This went on for over fifteen minutes.

I kept hoping they would stop. When rain began falling I headed back to my car. Normally I would have fetched my umbrella. Instead I left, half sick wondering what horrible thing was happening. Finally things quieted. And at this three way stop sign I had to wait as numerous emergency vehicles passed.

The trailer was covered in holiday lights. Now I understood the disturbingly loud Christmas music I’d heard blaring. ~sigh~ It must have been a nearby holiday parade.

What says Merry Christmas more than making it sound like an entire neighborhood’s burning down? At least I have lots more to explore, right?

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A Strangely Foiled Outing

On Wednesday I met my friend Scars to see a movie, “The Sound of Freedom”. My husband didn’t feel up to a heart-wrenching tale and gave his blessing.

Scars bought my ticket while I paid for our sodas. We walked into a silent theater. How bizarre. There should have been advertisements running and then previews before our 11 am showing.

This is all we saw:

Scars joked that maybe someone needed
to revisit the concession stand...

At around 11:15 or so, he and I returned to the lobby. Five other patrons sat baffled, waiting for word. I’m usually timid but I think Scars’ fearless nature inspires me. I walked behind a vacant service counter, looked into an empty office, and called out. Back in the auditorium, I even banged on a locked door.

Nothing. I later learned everything is automated, run by computer.

At long last two technicians appeared after Scars and/or I talked to a few different employees. Having climbed a ladder into the screening room, they apologetically claimed an inability to clear the glitch. Not even rebooting the mainframe. Issues included the system indicating no tickets had been sold. It all seemed stranger and stranger.

Around noon, the first fellow who approached us as opposed to the other way around returned and apologized because nothing had worked. Even calling their corporate office led nowhere. It seems corporate had been overwhelmed and stymied by this issue. Strangely, the nationwide problem apparently affected this particular movie alone.

I give all the staff credit for their efforts. And each individual patron received a refund offer, free food/drink tickets, and a complimentary movie pass.

All of us thwarted moviegoers remained calm, I’m proud to say. The others got their ticket cost refunded while Scars declined. He is financially well off and wanted the filmmakers to get their portion of the earnings.

Have you ever encountered something like this? Do you, like my husband, think it was a cyber attack on the theater chain?

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Stupid Technology

For a long while I’ve been unable to sign onto my Google account on the Brave web browser. Switching to Firefox did the trick until today. ~sigh~ I tried to use Brave with my name and URL and can’t even do that!

It’s bad enough blog reading/posting have been so neglected. Not allowed to comment on my own blog is maddening. I did manage to comment using Firefox with name and URL.

Have you had these types of issues? How is your week going so far?

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Customer Dis-Service

Early this month I found a slip in our mailbox announcing a postage due package needing picked up. The sender’s name was illegible. And seeing only our surname listed left us further clueless.

At the designated office a single clerk took several minutes handling another lady’s transaction. But with nothing pressing I stood uncomplaining. When my turn came this sole employee took my notice and disappeared into the back.

Meanwhile, two other individuals arrived. Before long they began murmured discussion over growing dissatisfaction. One said she had been waiting two weeks for a package from California and couldn’t even get an estimated delivery date. I commiserated, sharing similar experiences.

The other became anxious as she had left her dog locked in the car. She thought her business would take a mere minute or so. Hearing that the poor creature had just returned from a post-surgical vet visit prompted my awkward apology.

At last the postal worker returned – empty-handed and apologetic. She couldn’t find my package anywhere. I got the sense she intended to continue searching and urged her to take care of those behind me. So she wrote my name and phone number on a slip of paper in case it turned up.

I never heard from her again and my online attempts to request redelivery proved pointless. The system didn’t even recognize its own (!) barcode number. ~sigh~ Mere days before this my physician convinced me to use the moneysaving mail-order pharmacy service. As you can imagine, I doubted the wisdom of this decision.

Lo and behold, my medications arrived within a few days. What a surprising relief.

Have you encountered similar frustrations with your postal service? Is there any chance any of you dear readers sent me something?

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A Friday Fill-In

Reading yesterday’s post on 15 and meowing intrigued me to join in the Friday fill-ins. I hope you enjoy.

1. I am (often) overdue to feed my fish for days (!) in a row. This sounds odd but I avoid lifting the lid of my aquarium where too-clever-for-her-own-good kitty Terra can see. When she’s finally napping I tend to be otherwise occupied and forget. Thank heaven my spotfin gobies don’t seem to suffer.

2. I am so sick of all the various powerful global entities making bank on hate, fear, and misinformation. I’ve heard that the media assigns us our opinions if we let it. We need to take it upon ourselves to do our own research on whatever we find troubling and have patient, respectful dialogues. Or I could just take my unicorn out for a ride. ~hangs head~ Most folks of every ilk just want to live in peace.

3. Tinned anchovies on bread is a strange snack I like to eat. Snacking is rare for me anyway, but I tend to opt for savory over sweet.

4. A bento box is one of the most random things I own. The compartments are great for more than just sushi. Its first use was when my husband and I enjoyed strawberries dipped in plain yogurt off the shared tray.

Not exactly the one I bought, but close...

What say you on these topics?

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A Bumpy, Lumpy Year & the Blessing of Excellent Healthcare

A month after my reaction to blood pressure medication, we received a bill for over $1,080 (US) from the emergency services billing company. I called to question and was told that the ER doctor was out of our provider network, we were responsible for payment, and I needed to file any appeal with my insurance company. If that organization refused further compensation I should call her again, she said, promising her employer would work with us (presumably an installment plan).

I spent a few hours calling back and forth between these corporate entities. Our insurance provider insisted we only owed $75.44 and the billing company had no right to demand payment of that declined balance. An opposing customer service rep insisted that was untrue, that the insurer had no right to limit the amount due as no contract existed between these two firms.

At last, a woman with our insurer told me she put in a dispute on our behalf with the billing company. What?!? Confused as I am, I don’t intend to drop the matter.

Fast forwarding to the afternoon, I told my primary care physician when he asked about my stress level. Steam practically pouring out his ears, he admitted a lack of expertise but expounded upon his opinion. He thinks our insurer knows full well their company is responsible for the $1,080.

My doctor believes both enterprises hope the patient pays without question, satisfying the greed of each. Lots of folks cave into pressure from this extortion, he explained. My husband would have been one of them, sad to say. In fact, Dr. S maintains utter disbelief in the ‘out of network’ explanation.

I guess my next step is a friendly call to the ER facility, or perhaps a personal visit. Then, in about a week, I intend to call the biller’s representative for information on the insurer’s alleged petition and proceed from there.

Ugh…

Meanwhile, a lingering lump on my scalp grew three times larger over the summer. My hairdresser classified it a harmless cyst (called a wen) and advised having a dermatologist remove the cumbersome bump. I mentioned this to a medical student during her initial consultation, she passed it on to Dr. S, and he (fulfilling his residency at this clinic) consulted a senior physician before she followed up on their examinations.

This attending physician assured me their procedural department could remove the cyst, which insurance would be much more likely to cover versus a dermatological procedure. In addition, she kindly spent valuable time accompanying me to the checkout desk so as to assure both ideal scheduling and proper insurance coding. For one $20 copay, I will undergo this little outpatient surgery and receive a surreptitious follow-up on my blood pressure. Nice, huh?

Whew! I’ve rambled enough. But how nice to find caring, competent professionals. Wish me luck on the other mess.

Have you heard of a wen before?

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Brassiere Review for Those Interested and – Spoiler Alert – a Scam

Sad to admit, I’m not being subtle or untruthful with my title. As my age and weight have progressed, finding proper fitting lingerie has become more and more an issue.

Then I saw this Facebook advertisement for a sort of wonder bra. No need for some uncomfortable underwire, it reported, with lots of support and a relaxed feel. Falling for the promise of something soft, flexible, and adjustable, I purchased two at a supposed discount.

What garbage!

Not My Vendor, But Same Product
And Brra? Hmmm...

The cloth is cheap to the point of being see-through with padded cups that wouldn’t serve as gerbil hammocks. And the forgivable sizing is a joke in itself. Here’s another kick, too, I tried to leave a review on their website and got denied.

SORRY: YOU DON'T HAVE PERMISSION TO WRITE A REVIEW
???
I AM A CUSTOMER

Unbelievable. For someone who hates interacting with folks in the real world, I must do so to find serviceable undergarments, it seems.

Any product recommendations, my dears?

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Updates and Downers

Well, I got a reply from our veterinary clinic stating a notice went out to all employees regarding the careless mention of feline cancer. An apology and gratitude for my loyalty were a boost. Since I abhor conflict, even when warranted, I used a pseudonym and admitted as much, claiming I didn’t want the person who called personally admonished. Call me silly, but this way I haven’t felt uncomfortable returning.

And yes, we’ve had to go back several times for medicine refills and whatnot. That message from them is about the only positive news in my personal current events.

Jezebel is limping even after I (sometimes) manage to force feed her bupenorphine and/or gabapentin (she’s supposed to get both twice a day but the obvious trauma to her limits my attempts). She and Tilly suddenly stopped eating both their ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ kibble for the aged indoor cat and that canned food. We can keep the cans for a possible future pet but a freshly opened fifteen pound bag of dry food is going to waste. I guess I’ll offer it to friends, though I don’t know if any are caring for elderly felines.

This morning my husband found mysterious charges on his credit card. After calling the company he’ll receive a new card, requiring a change to every single online payment record. That’s got him in a rotten state of mind.

Tomorrow I have to return to Special Eyes as my eyeglass frames broke yet again. This time, it’s a snapped off hinge.

I think I’m going back to bed now, reminding me of a Mitch Hedberg joke. “I haven’t slept for ten days straight… Because that would be too long.” Hibernating for a few months sounds good to me.

Are you familiar with Mitch Hedberg’s humor?

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Good News and a Bad Judgment Call

First off, my husband and I did not euthanize Jezebel the cat today due to advanced bone cancer. The elevated calcium expected to be kidney related, today’s urine sample will show how advanced is her situation.

Why did my mind immediately take the darkest turn possible?

The overwhelming majority of credit goes to that veterinary employee who left the message Friday morning regarding her blood work. He didn’t say simply that elevated calcium can be a concern and needs to be investigated.

No.

This fellow jumped straight to the fact higher levels are a good indication of cancer. Why would someone do that? My imagination took over from there despite my husband’s best attempts to dissuade me.

An X-ray shows she has arthritis. For that, I am to administer two different pain medications twice a day. Wish me luck. Jezebel despises being handled thus.

Despite me stuffing her in a carrier and putting her through stress of another visit, all is forgiven. She is curled up, purring and grooming beside me on the bed as I type.

Meanwhile, the same veterinarian who gave Tilly such thorough care a few weeks ago seemed confused by my constant mentions of cancer concerns. I don’t think she considered that possibility for Jezebel.

Too relieved to feel true anger, I will be leaving a message on their web page advising a friendly chat with their staff on phone etiquette. I have been a wreck for days.

I’m reminded of a “House, M.D.” television episode in which a man diagnosed with cancer sued the kind oncologist Dr. Wilson for renouncing his former death sentence. Preparing for the end, the fellow said farewell to friends and sold his home. His largest complaint involved costs of buying a new residence. I miss that show.

What would be your first positive act if you learned your life would be over within the year?

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Whacked Out of My Mind

I know there is nothing unique in my charmed life’s recent downturn. Without over-thinking it, I could name a half dozen people enduring far worse.

Still, I need to rant. And anyone reading who is knowledgeable of the film “Jacob’s Ladder” will learn just what pervasive morbidity my mind harbors.

Anyway, the whiny rant:

This morning we got bad news about kitty Jezebel’s blood work. At fifteen plus years of age, she didn’t surprise us with news of some kidney dysfunction. But the old girl could be in the early stages of actual disease.

Worse, the technician left word that elevated calcium levels could well indicate cancer. Not very good at staying optimistic of late, my thoughts went right to that leg pain and the fact we may not be bringing her home after her Monday morning appointment.

I know we will not put her through the aggressive treatment her predecessor Luna received before passing away in 2014. My husband still admits profound guilt over those extreme efforts to stave off my inevitable pain, despite the fact our sweet girl fought hard herself to stay on this earth. Even hearing me insist her chemotherapy and that radical mastectomy furthered veterinary oncology can’t assuage his regret.

Meanwhile, thinking of all that’s happened in the last thirteen months, starting with my father’s estrangement over a dumb misunderstanding to every major or minor insult and injury since, I developed an eerie sensation. I mean, come on. Yesterday afternoon I netted one of my four adult ‘typhoid’ mollies, the poor creature found dead at feeding time.

What more can go wrong?

More poignant, what if my reality isn’t what I think?

That wonderful flick “Jacob’s Ladder” introduces us to Jacob Singer, a military veteran of gentle disposition returned from the Vietnam war. He soon begins experiencing demonic sightings. Reunited with his fellow servicemen, they compare notes and start suspecting nefarious governmental, wartime experimentation. One by one they begin dying mysteriously. There are fantastic twists and turns, so I won’t say more and spoil it.

If you’re unfamiliar with the plot but interested in how the movie provokes my surreal sensation, please leave a comment and I’ll visit your blog with the answer.

On another ‘whacky’ note, our tiny back stretch of grass is so long I fear any regular lawnmower will choke. So I plant to try and run the weed whacker out there this afternoon. Wish me luck.

You know I have to ask if you have seen “Jacob’s Ladder”. And have you ever considered that the term talkies gave way to movies from ‘moving pictures’? I just thought of that while typing this.

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Here We Go Again

Tilly, Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed in November Before Spring Grooming

For the third time since last September, our cat Tilly displayed curious behavior indicative of a urinary tract infection. It began Sunday afternoon as happened on December thirtieth last year. Once again, I got lucky making a same day veterinary appointment.

The first time, dear readers may remember we chose the Convenia antibiotic shot as we left for our autumn vacation before receiving diagnosis. Our pet sitters, a wonderful couple, handled her care.

Upon the second occurrence, I requested tablets. To my surprise, the vet that New Year’s Eve day told me they are more effective against the average UTI than a one time shot.

Okay.

It would have been nice to know earlier, but we had no real choice in the matter anyway. The pet sitter prefers not to administer oral medications after a nasty dog bite. I can’t blame her.

This past Monday, I got a more disturbing surprise. For an additional $95, a urine analysis on the specific bacteria will allow us to better target treatment.

What?!

Why didn’t they offer that months ago? I wonder if past treatments never even cleared her of whatever bacteria strain’s plaguing our poor darling, resulting in these uncomfortable reoccurrences. I’ll have you know, I kept my cool in the examination room and beyond, until returning home and raving to my equally bemused DH.

Meanwhile, I spent over $300 and still have to purchase more of whatever pills are recommended. And for now Tilly endures not only her preliminary antibiotic twice daily on top of the regular thyroid medication, but also ear drops and a liquid oral pain medicine morning and night, as well. I must admit, the mild sedation of that last seems to bring us more peace and quiet until she decides it time to demand another serving of canned food.

Tilly is spoiled, and loves pestering my husband for attention. And thank heaven, goes into peaceful sleep on his lap every afternoon. Now, let’s hope the ear drops clear up some mild irritation and reduce her wax overproduction.

A call should confirm our next step toward her UTI in a day or so. Meanwhile, her blood work otherwise showed the feline in good health, especially considering her age. That’s a relief.

If she suffered kidney dysfunction, antibiotics could be prescribed for up to six weeks (!) as opposed to two. Unless someone goofed up reading reports on our phone message, she won’t need that. We have been given false hope with a past error. Wish us luck.

Are you aware that people not completing a prescribed course of antibiotics is a contributing factor toward the emergence of resistant bacterial strains?

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Where Am I? Happy News, &, What’s That You Say?

During this month’s Camp NaNo writing challenge, I decided to count hours instead of fresh words. That flexibility offers a chance to work on edits and new story as I see fit.

Yesterday and today I made minute changes to a short story. Finished reading those words, I moved back to a WIP with different characters. In one amusing moment this afternoon, I recognized a mistake. Switching between Nickolas and Alex in Cincinnati, I set Arick and Lita in that same region instead of their native US state of Idaho.

I rectified that with a chuckle. Meanwhile, I am enjoying this ongoing dedication as a writer sans the stress of attempts to publish. We shall see what the future holds in that department.

In other happy news, lunch with someone considered the little brother I never had and a lady who has been making him very happy rounded out another successful and rewarding day. Now I’m about to join my husband for some YouTube video content. On a less pleasant front, a few days ago his hearing seemed to take an abrupt and sever downturn.

Deaf in one ear for several years, attributed to otherwise asymptomatic mumps (shocking considering he received inoculations in the Air Force decades ago), my spouse has been turning broadcasts up to the point it makes me flinch on occasion. To combat this, I put cotton in my ears.

Even that proved inadequate the other evening and I located Styrofoam ear plugs. When spotted, that did not go over well. He stormed out of the room and got on his computer. Today I implored him to get a hearing test. He met that with stoic dissatisfaction. I guess we all are in denial over something.

Any suggestions for what I should do next? How far should I push, and how fast before things deteriorate further?

Anything exciting happening in your neck of the woods?

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New and Improved, Not

After my friend introduced me to the term ‘first world problems’ I can’t stop applying the term. Today’s little gripe definitely fits.

Another one of them has an actual name – choice paralysis. It’s when a person goes to the modern grocery store and has trouble finding the desired item due to so many options.

That issue cropped up yesterday in an unexpected way. Shopping with my husband, I decided to pick up a box of sesame sticks. They’re one of the few snacks I crave, if only now and then.

Last night I opened the container and put one in my mouth. Instead of succulent sesame, I got hammered by garlic. It turns out the manufacturer decided to try a new recipe. These are ‘everything’ sesame sticks. Just like the bagel of the same name, I find the taste overwhelming.

~sigh~

One of these days I’ll learn to check every last label to the finest print. Oh, well. They can be eaten along with the white cheddar crispy things my husband picked out and decided they taste horrible. Maybe they’ll cancel one another out.

Are you a snacker?

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Semantics, a Rant

Years ago, as he did twice a year for their Florida migration, my father turned over my ailing mother’s care to me and hubby for several days. She needed pain medication, so I took her shopping. Of course, she got confused. I still have a huge bottle of naproxen sodium.

Oh, well. I’m blessed not to need pain relief often.

And I screwed up, as well. Under stress, I meant to purchase a ‘no soliciting’ sign and brought home a ‘no trespassing’ notice instead.

My husband deemed the wording a bit harsh at the time, so I should have exchanged it but never did. To honor his wishes the thing got stored away.

Until recently.

Dealing with anxiety off and on, I hate hearing the doorbell or someone knocking unless we’re expecting a package or rare visitor. Yesterday evening we sat watching an episode of the miniseries “Presidents at War” when persistent knocking sounded. I refused to go to the door even though our television carries right through to the outside, especially at the volumes my husband often chooses.

A few minutes after the interloper gave up, I decided to step outside and found some guy wearing a construction vest like I’d seen on another solicitor turned away (!) a few days ago. Walking away from the house next door, he turned to my hail.

Anger emboldened, I shouted, “Hey! Don’t you know the definition of ‘no trespassing’?”

“Knocking on a door isn’t trespassing.”

I… begged to differ, you could say. He wasted no time heading the other direction.

Here is what an online search turned up:

tres·pass

[ˈtrespəs, ˈtresˌpas]

VERB

trespassing (present participle)

1. enter the owner's land or property without permission.

‘Nuff said. I’ve asked my husband to use Amazon.com points and buy this rather attractive yard sign. I wish it included the caveat “unless you are a child” but don’t expect this will stop them, anyway.

Would you approach such an unwelcoming door?

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Still Naïve into Middle Age

Today my husband picked up Wednesday afternoon’s police report while I drove our rental car home. I honestly believe myself not to be at fault for that accident because the other driver sped up at the last second to (as my husband reports it) blow through what was already a light turning red.

I don’t recall either of us getting to make much of a statement to the officers on scene. Our insurance company asked me more questions. But authorities taking into custody someone with no auto insurance, an active arrest warrant, who was not legally licensed to drive and fled the scene of our accident believed her when she said the light was green.

Based on that alone, the report states, I’m being cited for an improper left hand turn. I’m sorry to be a downer, but this is disheartening. No doubt I’ll be fined on top of the fact we have to shell out a minimum $500 to (hopefully) get our car fixed. And who knows how long that will take.

Adding insult to injury, a driver on the way home from the collision center later forced me to hit the brakes to avoid the same scenario in reverse. I just pray there is no court summons over Wednesday’s debacle. Surely not, but I have no clue. And I lack the will to phone the police station to question.

I just want to get on with this life I’m lucky to have. It’s tempting to just dig a hole and crawl inside. Maybe I should purchase a dash camera.

Do you think I should just hole up for the rest of the month, maybe more, and try not to leave the house?

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Insult to Injury – A First World Rant

Weeping over the increasing number of my dead tropical fish throughout Sunday, I tried keeping things in perspective. One fantastic thing, I recalled, was the fact my vintage eyeglass frames with their expensive new high tech lenses were repaired right before our vacation last autumn.

And yeah, they are great.

The long distance vision is fantastic. Coming in from shoveling snow Saturday under cloudy skies showcased how well the polarization works, too. So I sent up thanks to heaven while nudging the left side with a delicate touch.

You see, the left lens seemed to have drifted out of whack again, causing my consideration to get the frames adjusted. Surely that’s all they need, I figured. I’ve been treating these frames with great delicacy since their repair and planned on asking any technician to treat them with the greatest care.

Well, torque wasn’t the issue. The right side hinge snapped when I attempted to put them back on!

The Screw is Still in There...

Guess it’s time to call Special Eyes tomorrow. I hope he can again do his magic.

At what point should I give up and purchase new eyeglass frames, do you think?

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Road Rage on the Rise

As more and more vehicles hit the streets in my little suburb, people seem to drive angrier and angrier. I admit to sometimes becoming frustrated to the point of snapping. I’m happy to say no accidents have thus far resulted for me on either side.

It’s a bloody miracle.

I am getting so tired of commuters cutting me off because I don’t know a lane ends ahead. Do they really think I’m being malicious or believe they’ll reach their destination that much sooner?

Some find their final destination every single day. I believe more deaths (or at least fender benders) result from anger than drunkenness, though driving intoxicated is a terrible idea.

On my way home from the gym minutes ago some dude risked both our safety and vehicles over my judgment call. Let me be clear. He had plenty of time to slow down for one more car as I merged into slower traffic ahead of him.

He raced around me and, instead of continuing on his angry way, cut me off with inches to spare. To be honest, I flipped him the middle finger to express my displeasure. The dude did the same. How original.

So I blew him a kiss before taking my turn off that hellish route.

That sort of encounter always unsettles me, more than it should. Before reaching home I wondered if I could make two signs for that sort of incident, one in reverse for jerks like him.

It could read, “Have a better one” or maybe “Sorry you’re having a bad day.” There’s no doubt everyone has a rough day now and then that shortens his or her fuse.

But taking time to read might cause an accident my blessed reflexes and distrust of other drivers thus far keep avoiding.

Maybe I could draw a big red heart. Or a broken black one.

Then again, some of these hateful acting people might run me off the road and beat me to death. I wish I was joking.

J-Pop Artist Gackt - His Art is Only Rivaled by his Intellect
aka A Pretty Man and His Pup (I feel better now)

Don’t you wish there were a breathalyzer test for rage that would prevent a car from starting?

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What a Week – & Trying to See the Upside

A few days ago I found out why my father stopped talking to SO and me. There was a vitriolic misunderstanding between me and some friend of his following a group text message thread. This person, whose name I still don’t know, singled me out and bluntly asked, “Who are you?”

I should have ignored it. Instead, I tried to explain about Internet and communication security – why I wouldn’t answer. Well, somehow I insulted this person, who complained to my father. My father then tried to jab at me with two cryptic text messages after letting all my calls go to voicemail. I didn’t even understand what he meant at the time. At least he called the night before last, but I’m struggling with feeling hurt, plus not knowing what the future holds.

Worse (Dad has pulled these silent treatment stunts before, after all), two of my favorite rock and roll performers are struggling. Marilyn Manson (AKA Brian Warner) became ill somehow and had to cancel one of his shows with Rob Zombie. Apparently, some fans are being total jerks about it. I hope everything turns out all right for him. I’d be so sad if he had to quit performing.

Similar ugliness has been visited upon the delightful members of Palaye Royale. It seems some entitled brats get upset if they don’t get exactly what they want, when they want. According to guitarist and big brother Sebastian, these turds arrived two and a half hours late for a meet and greet before posting nastiness online about PR not caring about fans.

Lead singer Remington is so distraught I fear they decided last night to disband after touring this fall. Their second album hasn’t even been released yet. I’ve been trying to do little things to boost spirits. The best recommendation I could make is for them to stay off Twitter and Instagram, maybe other social media platforms, at least for a while.

So I’m trying to find a bright side to this week. Well, if I’m honest, there’s more than one. First off I’ve been writing, writing, writing. Also, I got a long overdue eye exam today.

SO kindly went with me, driving me around after my eyes were dilated (good thing, too! Blurry vision ensued for hours). We went to Sam’s Club and I ordered new lenses for two nice pairs of eyeglass frames I already own. One will be for long distance with bifocals for really tiny print. The second pair will be for computer usage. I’m really happy and can hardly wait to get them.

I ordered all kinds of neat coatings. Those long distance/close-up reading lenses are going to replace my bulky sunglasses with a reactive transitional ultraviolet blocker. My new computer use lenses should reduce eye strain by blocking some of the blue light emitted by electronic devices.

We paid for all this using an HSA card. That’s a tremendous blessing. And my eyes are healthy!

How did your week wrap up?

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Dangly Bits – A Walk Down Memory Lane & Major Pet Peeve

The best traits passed on to me from my dear departed mother revolve around the arts. She read to me as a child, procured my library card at the earliest age allowed, and encouraged my overall creativity. My father bequeathed me her (sadly) unused sketch book and box of pastels purchased in the early nineties.

Mom also shared my persnickety approach to language. We often discussed linguistic pet peeves, debating if we missed our calling by not getting into teaching English literature. Odd as it may sound, I don’t think either of us had the patience to work with children every day.

Today, one of my biggest annoyances with the media is dangling participles, hence the goofy title opening. While I’ve noted an increase in that as the Internet increases civilian participation (by the way, I support free speech for all even if it is poorly expressed), most talented writers I know make the mistake now and then. Some are dear friends, too, not that I would call them out on it.

I’m concerned that editing seems to have fallen by the wayside. The lame (main) stream media perpetrates this crime on a regular basis. The writing quality on a favorite television show, “Mysteries at the Museum”, caused me to pause the video stream yesterday to jot something down.

Check this out: “Founded in 1791, visitors to the Albany Institute of History and Art…”

Really? Current visitors are as aged as this oldest among United States museums? Perhaps it’s time I take a trip to Albany.

Any idea why we call it a pet peeve?

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