Nurturer Caretaker

Between Mr. & Mrs. Psychotic Hypocritical Jesus Freakazoids, Desperately Seeking an Alimentary Canal, Mr. Emotionally Damaged with Waa Waa Black Sheep Have you any Wool Syndrome and now Flaming Ogress you’d think I would be broken of my habitual need to help others.

Actually truth be told, I think I may be on a hiatus for a while. My bleeding heart society is closed. When will it reopen? Not for a LONG time. Recently my Mom gave me some sage advice and I think it is about time I take it. I am now in the keep Wicked happy and all else is gravy mode. It remains to be seen how long I can stay on track. Although I know my family and close friends have signed affidavits that state they have permission to beat me about the head if I stray in the slightest.

Thank God for each and every one of them.

Do Be Do Be Doooooo

Overheard while on line for coffee:

“He’s crazy!”

“No he isn’t! He has the BEST hair!!!”

So all you guys out there, sounds like all you need is a good do these days. Although probably possessing the ability to do it good would seem more important.

Perhaps the key is be good doing it with the best do.

Thoughts, comments, suggestions?

Warm and Fuzzy…Not

My Dad, who is an accomplished psychiatrist, loves to use his trade’s labels on anyone he comes in contact with, not excluding family. I am here to assure everyone those 43 years of subliminal psychotherapy have their pros and cons. He had to try his methods out on someone, enter the middle kid. Hi! My name is Wicked H.

After a particularly trying time in my life, Dad told me that he hoped that I would never end up in any type of program that involved a 12 step recovery phase. You see, I don’t fall for that methodology. What gives me comfort is that I don’t currently have an addictive personality which might lead me down such a path. Knock on wood; of course one cannot predict the future, so far so good.

Recently at work, we had a training session which involved upgrading a computer system. Like most people, the staff does not like change. Nothing earth shattering but a definite change in the way information is processed. Basically if one was avoiding any contact with a computer, they would have a huge adjustment to the new system. The trainer, a very upbeat cheer-leaderesque person, handed out a “goodie” bag at the end of the session.

It did not do much for me in the way of motivation but I thought I’d share it with you:

The contents of this bag are to assist you in the great interactions you have with people everyday. You should always be reminded how great you are and all the great things you do!

Rubber Band – A reminder to stay flexible.
Paper Clip – To help you hold things together.
Eraser – To remind you everyday is a clean slate.
Kiss – To remind you we all need hugs and kisses.
Candle – To remind you to share the light with others.
Band Aid – For healing hurt feelings.
Smile Sticker – Smiles increase the face value. It’s outrageous!
Mesh Sponge – For the rough road ahead – seek support of family.
Sweet and Sour Candy – To help accept and appreciate the difference in others.
Lifesaver – To remind you of the many times others need our help and that you need theirs.
Ice Cube – To keep your cool.

As I looked around the room, I saw that may 45% of the group saw the value in this prize. Me? I took out the chocolate, hard candy and the mesh sponge and threw the rest away.

Just for shits and giggles, I showed the handout to my Dad. After he finished reading it he asked how long it took me to trash it.

The man knows his stuff.

Post Prandial Playback

Due to missing the usual key apparatus for turkey prep, we punted and went with open roasting of the bird with a pesto rub. If I must say so myself, it was fantabulous. The rest of the meal was scrumptious as well and just enough food not the usual over abundance that none of us needs. Also the 2 pies that the B-I-L slaved over ( stood in the ugly pre-thanksgiving purchasing free-for-all at Costco) were equally yummy.

Younger Sis (YS) did indeed bring an entire dessert. There must have been a meteor shower causing the world to rotate backwards on it’s axis. Later, I realized that is was some sort of peace offering for the delayed return of a teaching skull. An entire post could be devoted to the skull debacle, but I truly don’t want to relive it. Bottom line, YS will never change and me and BS need to get over it. Our parents will always take her side on such matters and play the “we are going to die with one eye open” card. So be it. If there wasn’t at least one family squabble, then it wouldn’t have been a true family gathering.

Best pre-meal moment happened during my task of making sure all the side dishes were warmed to perfection while BS was operating on the bird. I made the fatal error of placing the gravy ( the only item not made from scratch - shameful I know) into the fancy schmancy gravy boat. My dilemma was could I put it into the oven after warming it in the microwave? Because I am now bespectacled and can no longer read the fine print on the bottom of said boat and BS’s eyes are even worse that mine, Little Mermaid to the rescue. We held up the gravy boat over her head so she could read what was underneath for us. Of course, the writing was upside down for the first try and then the boat was moving around too much from my hysterical laughter for Mermaid to be able to read it. Crisis averted, it was microwave safe only.

All in all it was a great Thanksgiving. With my family around me and all in relatively good health, we all had many blessings to count.

To all of you who are wacky enough to brave the whole “Black Friday” shopping bullshit. Well all I can say is God love you because someone should. Bring on the Holiday season stressors.

Thankful For:

Arriving late to work and seeing that the spot I usually park in was left empty for me. Seriously, that was a very lovely surprise. It does not take much to make me happy

Over the Potomac and Through DC to Brain Surgeon’s House We Go

Since my mom had her heart attack it’s become tradition to gather at BS’s house for Thanksgiving. We are going on three years now. The typical routine is for me to show up early on Turkey day after I have dropped Dexter off at his Grandparent’s house.

I have actually enjoyed this new tradition, it gives my Mom a break and it makes for great bonding moments for BS, Little Mermaid and I. B-I-L is usually watching football games and giving us backseat suggestions for the menu. We are accomplished cooks/chefs if I must say so myself. What’s on the menu? The traditional stuff with our usual twist. YS will be spending Turkey day with her M-I-L. She usually shows up for dessert. We have a bet going to see if she will bring a half eaten pie or cake.

Also this year I want to see how much money Little Mermaid will earn. You see, so far we have had to bribe her with cash to ingest any type of vegetable. Such the entrepreneur that kid (I am secretly proud of that particular character trait). She is probably a closet vegetarian but is counting on the cash for her visits to the Limited Too. (The love of shopping gene was not passed on by me)

Hopefully we can all be on our best behavior, remember why we are gathered and be thankful of all we have and that the family is for the most part healthy and happy.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Cleaning House

I am the first to admit that I am not perfect. Never have been and probably never will be. Perfect is boring. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

That being said, I do have a few character traits that for the most part have been tamed. Until recently, I have done really well controlling my 2 worst deeds. They are impatience and beating dead horses. To be completely honest, these 2 demons come out only when I become severely agitated. It’s not pretty, I concede.

The next 48 hours will be quite difficult for the recipient of my wrath. Once this hurdle is surpassed, I will be able to move on. Will it cure me of impatience and the beating of dead horses? Not completely. It will be the catharsis needed to forge ahead.

Bespectacled Flux

This being my first foray into the four-eyed world, I am having a difficult go of it.

For the record I am not imbibing, although it sounds like an excellent idea right about now. I cannot seem to navigate any type of movement with the goggles in place. I thought life through the looking glass was supposed to be clear and unencumbered. Instead I possess the gait of Foster Brooks.

This just in, I am only supposed to wear the damn things while securely seated in front of the computer and working.

I am off to see the Wizard for a brain.

Note to Self

When attempting to have witty repartee with someone, make sure that they are both witty and capable of repartee. Otherwise you will be faced with a situation where too much information is exchanged.

Case in point: I know a young man who has dread locks alternately every 2 days. Today, in passing, I jokingly asked him if he was an impatient man. He didn’t understand my question. I remarked that I wouldn’t have the patience to have my hair braided every 2 days. What followed was the following tangent, very seriously delivered:

Dread Lock Man (DLM): I used to be a barber.

Wicked H: Okay.

DLM: And many barbers do not clean their shears. I have seen many men end up with nasty bumps at their base of their necks. You know dermatology bumps.

Wicked H: Blink, blink.

DLM: So I will never cut my hair again.

Wicked H: …….

DLM: I saw one man with a third head on the back of his neck. And that is NASTY!

Wicked H: So you have your hair braided one day and then undone the next because?

DLM: I don’t want a third head on my neck.

Wicked H: I’m glad you cleared that up.

I’m sorry I asked. Next time I will make sure the conversation will be at a level we both can enjoy. Helpful Hints from Wicked H.

Dear Aimless Mumbling Blowhard:

I warned you. Did you listen?

Do you think the Acme School of Business, where you received your MBA, would give you a refund? Oh, you didn’t think your employers would eventually find out that your “MBA” came from a school that advertises on matchbook covers?

GWU called. They have obliterated any record of your attendance. You have seriously tarnished the reputation of their Allied Health program. Tsk, tsk.

So how do you like being a grunt? How about the hospital staff questioning every order you issue? Isn’t that a hoot? You did such an upstanding job hiding in your office for the past 2 years grooming your overgrown ear hair that none of the ancillary hospital staff has a remote clue as to your existence or function. Come to think of it, it is one of your voluminous flaws. How about those 13.5 hour long shifts. Are your perfectly ironed chinos in a wad?

Wasn’t it hilarious to find that your office is now a storage room? Bet that was a proud moment for you. How about when you entered the room of the Chief to find out that you were stripped of your duties. DEMOTED. Admit it, that had to hurt.

Karma is a bitch.

This Post Is Not Meant to Offend Cat Lovers

My name is Wicked and I am a dog lover.....

You Know You Love Dogs When:

You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.

You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places around
the house, but no babies.

The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the
kitchen sink, to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there
are nose-prints all over the inside.

You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.

Your dog sleeps with you( for the record on the floor around the perimeter of the bed).

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but
he understands.

You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kid.

You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your
dog.

You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of
the very few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your dog loves
to go with you.

You open your purse, and that big bunch of baggies you use for
pick-ups pops out.

You get an extra-long hose on your shower-massage just so you can use it to wash your dog in the tub, without making the dog sit hip-deep in
water.

You don't think it's the least bit strange to stand in the back yard
yelling, "Google, pee!" over and over again, while Google tends to play and
forget what he's out there for (but what your neighbors think of your
behavior is yet another story).

You and the dog come down with something like flu on the same day.
Your dog sees the vet while you settle for an over-the-counter remedy from
the drugstore.

Have I missed any?

Ice Breaker or Stupid Question?

I went to my get my oil changed today with the Jiffy Lube Team. As I got out of my vehicle, the guy who confirms the information on the computer looked at the “I Voted” sticker on my chest.

Jiffy Lube Guy (JLG): Did you vote today?

Wicked H: Nope.

JLG: (Blank stare followed by rapid blinking)

I believe one should have fun while running errands. Of course with my luck, the transmission may fall out when I go over a pothole.

Pot Luck Etiquette

I have a question for the masses.

If you are invited to a family pot luck brunch and you are acutely aware of the number to be present, shouldn’t your dish be plentiful enough for those in attendance? Similarly, shouldn’t you simply leave the 12 pieces of peanut butter brownies at the hosts home upon your departure?

Perhaps my expectations are too high. Or the offender is a) out to lunch, b) her elevator does not reach the penthouse, c) she somehow got switched in the nursery before being brought home or d) all of the above.

Whatever!

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right…

Every month, I am surrounded by otherwise seemingly intelligent, functional individuals whose brain synapses cease-fire for 5 days. You can set your watch by it.

Is it the stress of reaching a deadline? They really don’t act as if they even care about the freaking deadline. Could they be fooling the rest of us the remaining 25 days of the month? Anything is possible. Do they act this way to simply drive me batty? Even though I may not show it on the outside, that is truly the result of these brain farts. And they are the smelly kind.

This process takes place 12 times a year. We have been performing it for four years now. If anyone of you has any ideas as to how I can motivate the troops to not freak out at the end of each month, I am open to all suggestions.

On my way to purchase spectacles I think I might also pick up a wig. You know, to hide these bald spots created by me pulling my hair out.

I Can See Clearly Now

Right after I get out of denial and purchase my first ever pair of eyeglasses. Myopia with a side of bifocals. Joy!

I have found as I age, I am choosing physicians who are exponentially younger than me. Not sure exactly why this phenomenon is occurring. Perhaps because I find that the younger Docs have a better sense of humor. If I need specialists, they better have a personality. Dammit!

My Ophthalmologist could not have been older than 30, if that. She had a very good bedside manner. We had an interesting exchange:

Eye-Doc: Due to your age, I am going to use this torture device to measure the amount of tears your eyes produce. ( She actually shoved two pieces of graduated cardboard into each lid)

Wicked H: Only if I can shove them into your eyes too. ( Funny how quickly she left the room after inserting said devices)

Eye-Doc: Hmmm. Looks like we won’t have to perform punctal implants, the moisture level in your eyes is satisfactory.

Wicked H: Darn. No sympathy for me when I get back to work.

Eye-Doc: No need to worry, I’ve numbed your eyes. The drops should only sting a little bit.

Wicked H: Do you all still use cocaine to numb the eyes?

Eye-Doc: Not anymore.

Wicked H: Bummer. I guess I’ll have to score on my way back to the office then.

She left the room laughing and I left the office with a prescription to become bespectacled.