Control Freak or Student of Life?

Remember back in the day when gas stations would pump the gasoline for you? Well my Father would be outside of the vehicle dutifully watching over the attendant. I mean like a hawk. I would ask my Dad what exactly he was watching for when he finally got back into the car? He would always say, I always try to learn new things. Well one would think that by the time self service gas stations came around he’d be an expert at pumping it. Not so much.

Then there'd be the heating and air repair tech making the bi-annual visit to service the furnace and compressor. My Dad would be right there in the guy's workspace usually in his way. My Dad is quite charming so it makes perfect sense that he is able to shadow anyone who appears at the house for repair duties. He explains how he is a student of life and he lives to learn new stuff. How can you argue with that?

When it was time for me to move out of the house, my Dad decided to give me a quick lesson on the inner workings of a car. Being a physician he tends to relate all his lessons around the human body. So he would label the parts of the engine after the parts of the body. You mean you didn't get this same lesson?? Battery = the heart, radiator = lungs, carburetor = liver and so on.

As he gets older, it's more about lack of trust versus wanting control over all things. We try to schedule repair visits when Dad is not home. It seems this new generation does not find my Father's quest for enlightenment all that charming. We tried to hire a teen to mow the lawn so that my 78 year old Father doesn't have to deal with that especially in the hot summer. As you may have guessed after about the second time he went out to learn how the kid's lawnmower functioned, we never saw the young man again. I am pretty sure the Jiffy Lube Team specifically added the "no more standing with us in the service bay" clause to keep him from his thirst for knowledge.

So for all those service related people that will eventually meet my Father, please be kind to your elder.

Happy Christmakwanzikah!!!!!

My wish to all of you is good health and happiness.

Hope all your Holiday wishes come true.

Tis the Season…..

..for wacko shoppers.

It is not a secret that I may be one of a few females on the planet who dislikes, no hates, shopping. For me to be able to go out and procure seasonal gifts is a big deal. I must strike when the shopping mood hits. I have been known to lose that mood even before I get to the store. If that happens, I just turn around and go back home.

This brings me to last years shopping excursion. A local chain department store had a big deal, Ram-a-lama-ding-dang sale. The store was open till midnight. I purposely waited to arrive at the store after 10:30 pm thinking all the normal people who had to get up for work the next day would have already left. That’s what I get for thinking. So there I was with my shopping mood in full force. I was prepared for the crowds and people bumping into me and trying to navigate around the tightly spaced racks of stuff. I was happily going about my gift procurement minding my own business. I had picked up a sweater and was holding it at eye level, trying to decide if my sister would like it. When all of a sudden I find myself wrestling with a much shorter woman (MSW) who has a firm grasp on the hem of the sweater. She is pulling with all her might. Here then is our exchange:

Wicked H: (while swiftly yanking the sweater back into my possession) Do you mind?
MSW: I want that sweater!!
Wicked H: Did you notice that I was in possession of the sweater when you tried snatching it away?
MSW: I didn’t notice that.
Wicked H: Oh, did you think the sweater was levitating magically?
MSW: ( stupid stare)
Wicked H: Lady, as you can see, there is a whole rack right next to where you are standing with the exact sweater.
MSW: I want that one.
Wicked H: If you don’t back off, you are going to die!
MSW: (while taking 10 steps backwards) Well! Happy holidays to you too.
Wicked H: Yea, yea…BITE ME!

The Holidays bring out the best in everyone, don’t they? Be careful shopping out there! You never know which store and what type of mood I’ll be in. I have thought about online shopping, but I have waited too long, yet again.

Top 10 Reasons My Trip to the Beach was Perfect:

#10 - NO shopping!! Outlets schmoutlets.
# 9 - Unplanned itinerary. Who schedules every meal before you leave for the trip???
# 8 - Uncontrolled giggling complete with snorting. Especially during the un-savories versus savories discussion. ( okay, maybe I was the only one snorting…)
# 7 – At least one phone call per day to hear how much you are being missed – SIGH
# 6 – Unlimited evening cocktails imbibed on the balcony with the waves crashing below.
# 5 – Three and a half mile trek on the beach each morning during which time all bad things are purged from my head.
# 4 – Heated indoor lazy river. I had forgotten the joy of reading while floating in a pool.
#3 – The picture perfect weather for early December. Sunny, clear skies, light winds.
# 2 – Independence Airlines – I highly recommend them people! Cannot beat the price and service.

And the #1 reason my trip to the Beach was perfect. My traveling partners: HFS and HFS Jr. It could not have gotten better than that…..

Reality.....

...what a concept?


I am back to reality after 5 days of complete rest and relaxation. Let me catch up with reality and I will post details later. Oh, Howard - I promise to send you an e-mail with the details you requested. No worries!

What Happens at the Office Christmas Party.....

...stays at the office Christmas party.

That's all I am saying.

Hello! Freaking, Ding DING

The other day I was trying to get in touch with my Mom. I try to call her a few times a week while at work. I should do it every day. Trust me I am trying to do better. I had tried for an hour straight. I kept getting the internal answering system message. Now you have to understand that my parents are 78 years old. Low maintenance technology works best for them. They have a normal answering machine which took the better part of a year to master. Why my brother-in-law signed them up for the answering service through the local phone company is beyond me. They never check those message because it involves too many steps.

In any case, it became clear to me that 1) my Mom accidentally forgot to hit the end button on the cordless phone or 2) something happened to her. Bridezilla lives 2 minutes away and is currently unemployed. I thought I would call her and ask her to check on Mom. I told her that I figured Mom left the phone off the hook could she please go over there and make sure everything was alright. She agreed.

A couple minutes later my cell phone rings. Bridezilla is reporting back:

Bridezilla: I went by the house, Mom is not home.
Wicked: Did you hang up the phone?
Bridezilla: No, I didn’t go in. I saw that her car was not in the garage and left.
Wicked: If you got out of your car to walk into the breezeway and open up the interior garage door to see if her car was there, why couldn’t you go into the house and hang up the phone?
Bridezilla: I didn’t want to disturb the house.
Wicked: Huh?!?!?!?!?!
Bridezilla: (Silence on her end - it was such a stupid excuse even she did not have a come back)
Wicked: Please go back and hang up the phone. The last thing we want is for Dad to try to call, panic and race home. ( He has done this several times, she forgets to hit end a lot)
Bridezilla: Well, okay. If that is what you want.....

I swear I am adopted

Southern Fried Happiness...

Twelve years ago today, the best thing that ever entered my life was born. You guessed it, my golden retriever turns 12 today. Happy Birthday Dexter!!!

Dexter is southern fried, he was born in Charlotte North Carolina. We have been together since he was six weeks old. I was honored to be picked by him. I went to pick out my pup from the owner and asked her to only show me the males. She brought 5 of them to me and as I sat on the floor among them all, Dexter was the first to crawl up and give me a big ole kiss. It was love at first site. Too bad it isn’t this easy with the non-furry male variety. (Another post for another time)

Dexter has been through not one but two very scary medical emergencies. I thought I was going to lose him both times. Thank goodness he survived. How it was possible for him to be livelier after the second illness at age 9 is still a mystery to me. He is a very healthy 12, knock on wood. I am the proud Granny of 16 grand pups. Dexter was quite the stud in his day.

My parents will tell you that they currently have 2 grand kids; one furry and one not. I am proud to announce that I gave them their first grand kid, furry but not loved any less than Little Mermaid. Although I have noticed that lately Little Mermaid is racking up more gifts than Dexter. What’s up with that? I guess if you count all the food scraps that Dexter is surely receiving when in his Grand Parents charge, then the gift ratio is more equal. Does anyone else out there have a furry kid who’s Grand Father gives them a report of how many centimeters pooped and liters peed? I didn’t think so. Dexter is one lucky dog!!

Happy 12th Dexie!!! May the rest of your years be very healthy and happy.

Puppy Love

Remember your first serious crush? I do, Phillip S. ( you never know who reads these things..). Phillip was the first boy to give me his ID bracelet. Yes, I am that old.

It was all very sweet. He would walk me to class and we’d hold hands during lunch. I know, cavities are forming. It was that warm fuzzy feeling to have someone care about you. Of course situations like these were frowned upon by my parental units. So it was a big secret that I had possession of the ID bracelet. Don’t get me wrong, I would always wear it but it would be hidden from Mom and Dad.

My older sister was away at college during that time of my life. For the record we were not too close then. When she would come home on weekends she was too busy to spend time with me. She was going through her college growing pains and I was going through my adolescent ones. We bickered back then more than anything else. However, I felt the need of sharing my news with her. So one night when she was home I showed her Phillip’s ID bracelet. She didn’t seem too amused by it but she did promise not to tell Mom and Dad. I felt better letting the cat out of the bag.

As siblings will do, we had some type of altercation that visit. I don’t remember what it was but it obviously annoyed her to the point of revenge. That night at dinner we were having our normal family catch up session. My sister asked Mom and Dad if they heard of my news. Gulp! Here is how the conversation went:

Dad: What’s your news?
Me: Oh , nothing really.
Dad: Tell us.
Me: Well, I have a friend, Phillip.
Dad: And?
Me: Um, well, we are going together.
Dad: Going where?
Me: No where, just together.
Sister: Show them your bracelet.
Me: No, it’s not important.
Dad/Mom: What bracelet?

After a long lecture on how my having Phillip’s ID bracelet was inappropriate, I was told to return it to him. Poor Phillip, I don’t think he understood why I was returning it. To be honest, I didn’t even understand why. Unfortunately , in my house you didn’t ask why, you were required to do it.

So there you have it. I blame my older sister for the fact that I remain single after all these years. I have to blame someone!!

The Season for Counting Blessings

I know it’s cliché, but I wanted to take a moment to begin the season by counting my blessings. It is the perfect time for it after all. I promise to return to sarcasm and wit, try to at least, after this post.

I had a pretty big health scare in the summer so I am thankful that all that went well. I am happy that my parents are still around and healthy and for the most part our family gatherings are fun. Dexter is around and quite healthy which makes me very happy. Even though she remains a terror, I am very glad to see that Bridezilla is now happy and will remain so ever after. I am quite pleased to see the bond between me and Nutcracker Sweet get stronger and stronger each day, hard to imagine her not in my life. Then there is Little Mermaid who is the brightest of forces in my life. Since I can no longer have kids, she is the next best thing. I am glad to have weeded out the negative influences in my life and gained a very positive albeit challenging one. What’s life without challenge, right? Of course I am thankful for Michael Bolton because without him I would have never met and become friends for life with HFS and her daughter HFS, Jr. Thank you Michael Bolton!!!

I hope as all of you travel over the river and through the woods to Granny’s house you have a safe journey. Please, take a moment to count your blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Miscommunications

Otherwise known as Holiday gatherings for Family Wicked. This Thanksgiving will differ slightly from our norm. Who am I kidding? We don’t have a norm, it is part of our charm after all. But the difference this year will be the addition of Uncle Fun, my new brother-in-law, as well as my favorite Aunt and Uncle. Another seemingly major difference is the annoying habit that is being demonstrated by our parental units, more so this year than last. Of course if you ask Nutcracker Sweet, she will tell you that I am in denial and that it has been happening for quite some time. ( I keep urging her to get her own blog going…) What a surprise, I digressed.

So the annoying habit referred to above are miscommunications which lead to all sorts of oddities. You have to know that my folks are 78 years old. Personally I think that if you have lived that long you have the right to act odd. I mean think of all the headaches I alone have caused my parents. My Father will tell anyone who will listen, and the list is getting shorter and shorter, that I am the cause of all the gray hairs on his head. He is right, at least I didn’t cause his hair to fall out. There IS always a silver lining. Pun intended!!!

See, I come by this miscommunication thing honestly. I come from a long line of digressers. Anyway, the issue is this. My folks can’t seem to remember too many details of extended conversations anymore. This alone is driving us batty. I could go on endlessly but lucky for you I won’t. I will say that my older sister and I have divvied up the menu for Thanksgiving so as not to tax my Mom too much this year. So far, all my Mom is responsible for is the bird. Me and nutcracker Sweet will do the rest and bring it over to Mom & Dad’s house. Sounds simple enough. This morning my Mom called me at work to see how I was and to remind me that I didn’t check in over the weekend. More gray hairs!!! I asked what time dinner was on Thursday and she said she didn’t know. I asked if she could give me a ballpark figure. She said I don’t care, pick a time. I suggested that she confer with Dad, he is usually the picky one when it comes to the time of any meal. She said fine and hung up.

Hopefully she will remember to let me know…..

Tudalicious

My new favorite word. I am the first to admit that in my younger years I was tudalicious. It was ugly, especially around the surging hormonal years between 11-13. I was awful. Thankfully with age came wisdom and a huge attitude adjustment. Pouting is not even on my list of emotions anymore. I am still a very giving person. It’s part of who I am and of course I have good and bad days. I am human after all.

Lately I have come across many tudalicious people. Divas with tudes, dudes with tudes, it has been a virtual tude-o-rama. Maybe it was ignited with the time and season change. I am not sure but I knew these same people or ran into these same strangers and things were different a few months ago.

I wish I had the time and energy to try and sit and talk with the tudicapped individuals in my vicinity. Don’t get me wrong, I have tried the whole olive branch scenario. But we are talking some serious problems here. I hope that these folks are able to work out whatever their demons are because I am not sure how much longer the rest of us are going to have sympathy. There comes a time when you have to stop and take inventory of yourself and use the power you have within you to either ask for help or get better.

Until then, Prozac cocktails for everyone!!!!

This Little Piggy....

…wasn’t supposed to do that!!

My first job in a doctor’s office was with a double board certified internist/endocrinologist. A highly intelligent woman. I learned so much working with her. She remains my Mother’s physician to this day.

We saw many diabetic patients. Part of their exam included a thorough check of the feet. The rule was if the patient was diabetic, their shoes and socks needed to be off before the doctor came in to see them. I was rooming a middle aged diabetic woman in a wheel chair. Her main caretaker was her husband who seemed to be quite attentive. We got the patient onto the exam table together and he removed her sweater. I asked if he could also remove her shoes and socks and I was headed out the door. He said he would prefer it if I removed them. So I came back into the room and removed her shoes and then her left sock first. I have a quirky way of removing other’s socks. I will pull the sock off over the heel and bunch it up at the toes, then grab the toe portion of the sock and yank it off in one swift motion. As I was pulling off the right sock, I noticed 2 things. The first was that I have something else in my fingers besides the sock and the second was the smell of rotted flesh. The reason the husband did not want to remove her shoes and socks was because she had a gangrenous toe which I had just proceeded to amputate while pulling off her sock.

It all seemed to happen so slowly. I panicked and with the sock and TOE still in my hand backed out of the room and nearly ran over the Doctor. She looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told her I pulled the patient’s toe off and she needed to excuse me while I went to loose my breakfast. She took the sock and toe and rushed into the room.

I will never forget that day. I felt horrible about the lady’s toe. The Doctor spent the better part of that day trying to convince me that the patient’s toe was barely hanging on. Although I was told how not to remove patient’s socks from that day forward. I am happy to report that I have not repeated that mistake an hopefully never will.

More Wacky Medical Tales

Back in East Jesus NC, I had another unusual encounter with a member of the community. Keep in mind that due to the size of the town, microscopic, all of us knew each other quite well. Sometimes whether we wanted to or not, one of the perks of small town living.

This brings us to the town florist, married with three young boys. He was quite the talented flower arranger, a stellar member of his church and very active in the community theatre. He shows up at the general surgeon’s office one day stating he has a problem. Part of my job is to asses the patient before the surgeon sees him so that I can have the proper equipment prepared. I learned quickly that if the problem involved male parts, the patient was not going to discuss the actual problem with me. Fair enough. When he began to stammer and stutter when I inquired as to the nature of his problem , I told him that he did not have to discuss it with me. The doctor would be in shortly. As I passed the surgeon in the hall I told him that it was most likely a “male” issue so the room was not prepared. He smiled and went on into the exam room.

I went about my other tasks in the office. A few minutes later the surgeon popped his head into my office and said we have a slight problem. It seems the florist has an infected piercing and the Doctor needs an extra pair of hands to remove the object. My assistance is needed. Oh goodie! He told me that the florist is aware that I will be present during the procedure and that although he isn’t thrilled about it, he has agreed.

By the time I get into the exam room, the florist’s member is fully anesthetized and he is in position for the procedure. I can honestly say that knowing this gentleman, I would have never guessed that he would have a piercing. Never judge a book by its cover, shame on me. So we carefully remove the ring/post and unfortunately have to complete the circumcision as he was partially gangrened. Why did he wait so long? Things could have turned out better had he acted more quickly. Some lessons are learned the hard way I suppose.

From that day on, if I needed to order flowers from him I made sure I placed the order by phone. You see he would not look me in the eye after that visit. I guess I can’t blame him

Topless

One of my all time favorite vacations took place in 1984. My Uncle took my cousin and I camping along the Mediterranean and Aegean Coastline. This was my first time camping. Come to think of it, it was a maiden camping voyage. None of us had pitched a tent before that trip.

Before we got underway, we stopped off and picked up the tent from another Uncle. When we arrived at his house he wasn’t home. So my Aunt pointed us in the direction of the camping supplies. She told us to take whatever we needed and that she guessed everything was in place. We had no reason to think what we grabbed wasn’t all we needed. (Yes, mistake #1)

After driving for 6 hours we arrived at our first campsite. A beachfront camp ground as each of them were on that trip. So beautiful, top of the line cooking and bathing facilities at a very reasonable cost. The goal was the more reasonable the cost, the longer our trip would last. I can’t remember the itinerary, but I know we were gone for at least 12 days.

We picked our location and started to unload our supplies. We set forth putting up the frame of the tent (keep in mind that I am not a seasoned camper, my terminology of the parts is probably way off). It was huge. I was expecting something much smaller. It looked like it had sitting area in front and then 2 bedrooms in the back. The frame was up and the 2 rooms were up. The material of the bedrooms was gauzy, very similar to mosquito netting with durable flooring. The bedrooms were fully enclosed complete with zippered doors. We inflated the 2 air mattresses and placed them in each bedroom as well. My cousin and I would share one room and my Uncle would have the other. It was at this point that we realized our mistake. We did not have the tarp that would act as a roof for the frame. So what we had was a large frame which housed 2 see through bedrooms. We had 2 choices. Spend the night in a hotel and then return home canceling the entire trip or continuing on with our modified tent.

My Uncle and cousin were leaving the final decision up to me. I knew we didn’t have the funds to complete our trip and spend the nights in hotels. I am not a very high maintenance person and when would I ever have the opportunity to see some of the most beautiful beaches and sites along those coastlines again? My suggestion was to keep our original plan and enjoy our trip. It was summer time so the fact that our sleeping quarters would allow the ocean breezes through was a big plus for me. Let me be near water and hear the tides come in and go out and I am one happy camper. (Pun intended) Our only problem would be if it ever rained, then we would not be able to use our tent as shelter. We all agreed to take that chance.

We basically spent 2 nights at each campsite during our trip. I am not sure how it was possible, but each campground was nicer than the last. I am talking marbled kitchen and shower areas. No wonder there are happy campers, who knew. By the time we got to campsite 2 we had whittled our tent frame to the portion that help up only the bedrooms. It just didn’t make sense to keep erecting the whole structure when we couldn’t use it. We became quite good at the assembly and even better at explaining why our tent was so unusual. We had several different scenarios to explain our plight. We got creative as the days went by. Our fellow campers seemed to be sympathetic. One night we did endure a pretty fierce windstorm. That night I could feel the sand coming in through the gauzy walls of our bedroom. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling but isn’t that part of the whole camping experience? We decided to tell anyone who asked after that night that our tarp was taken by the wind thus rendering us topless. My cousin and I would take turns holding up a sheet as a shield to keep everyone from watching us get dressed and undressed. My Uncle was on his own, he either dressed in the bathroom facilities or he was giving everyone a free show. I never asked. It might explain why he always had a gaggle of European females on his heels.

Our 12-day, topless adventure was perfect. No rain, one windstorm and some of the best memories I could ever ask for.

Uncle Fun, Welcome to the Family

Well, the wedding has taken place. All went well and I now have a new brother-in-law. My 9-year-old niece has dubbed him Uncle Fun. It is actually a very fitting description of him. My niece is so astute; yes she takes after Aunt Wicked. The Bride and Groom are off to St. Lucia. I wish them a lifetime of happily ever after.

For those wondering, the midgets did a fantabulous job. I gave them a huge tip. I know that their arms were tired. It’s nice that weddings bring out the best in people. I can’t tell you how many positive comments I received. I have gone through a transformation of sorts within the last year or so and many of the family’s friends have not seen me. Always great to get your ego stroked. The most backhanded comment I received was this: “Wicked if you cannot snag a man tonight, then you just should kill yourself.” Um...thank you?

The Woman Who Cried Wolf

Back in rural NC I worked with a General Surgeon. Because he moved his practice from the Metro DC area to east Jesus NC, he ended up performing more surgical procedures than the regular general surgeon performs. Part of his additional repertoire included GYN procedures. Which brings me to this post.

Basically our patient was a biker dudette who came to our office for consultation. She wanted to have a tubal ligation. Part of the work up for that surgery is a pelvic exam. I got her ready to be examined and then the surgeon joined us in the room to first discuss the procedure and then examine the patient. Once he went over all the details he prepared for the exam. As I had her scoot down to the edge of the exam table I noticed that she had an interesting tattoo. The Doc was explaining where the puncture wounds would be while he was getting ready to examine her. She interrupted and asked if her “wolf” would be injured? (Have I mentioned that it’s not nice to break out in hysterical laughter while assisting a physician during a pelvic exam?) It was extremely difficult to not react to the look the Doc gave me following her inquiry. Because she was already lying down and in the stirrups she couldn’t see his face nor he hers. I was standing next to her at the end of the table. I merely pointed to her pubic region not saying a word. When he removed the drape enough to perform the exam, he understood her question.

Biker Dudette had a very intricate tattoo of a wolf’s head in place of pubic hair. I personally can’t imagine laying there for the amount of time it must have taken to receive the tattoo. Not to mention the discomfort. But I digress. The Doc did not miss a beat and told BK not to worry that the wolf’s left ear would be where that puncture wound would end up. BK seemed ok with this.

A week after her surgery, BK was scheduled for a postoperative visit. She handled the procedure well and was feeling fine. She was quite eager to show off her wolf. I must mention that we did not need to view that part of her anatomy following the surgery. She had a new addition to her wolf tattoo. Since the left ear indeed was where the wound was, BK went ahead and got an earring for the wolf.

Different strokes for different folks.....

Where Does the Time Go?

Sorry gang. It's been a hectic week. Too much going on to have time to write about it. I promise to get back on a schedule next week.

Until then, have a great weekend and Happy Halloween!!!!

Hot Dog!

Congrats Red Sox!!!

I was told I did win the bet after all. Perhaps things are looking up Nutcrackersweet?

Mexican Hat Dance

Well we have good news and bad news. The good news is that I did not perform the Mexican Hat Dance at the shower. The bad news is that there was NO marguerita machine. RP, I am going to buy one and you are the first invited to break it in, deal?

More god news: no Bridal shower games - I knew there was a God. Bad news: no bride’s maid dresses in site. (Less than 3 weeks to W-day)Now you see I took this as good news and volunteered to opt out of the whole proceedings. I quickly found out that offer was taken as bad news. Bridezilla was not amused. Well, neither am I but why not make the best of a situation? I told the group of “maids” that we should all go and get burgundy bed sheets and make togas. The dress that we all ordered is strapless so it seemed like a good idea. Strangely, only my older sister and I found this amusing. Clearly, I need to hang out with women with better senses of humor. Oh wait, the women I was surrounded by believe in the archaic wedding ritual nonsense. Of course they’d have no sense of humor. Whatever.

At our Bridal party luncheon today we had the usual polite conversations and very delicious food. Bridezilla handed out our gifts; burgundy stoned dangly earrings. They’d go great with the togas. I talked about hiring 2 midgets to hold up my bodacious ta-tas. The other well-endowed bride’s maid asked if I could get a deal on 2 pair of midgets? I told her I’d look into it. Then the less endowed maids talked about how best to pad their misfortune. Some are opting for water balloons, others for socks. Our waiter was highly amused. Good times!

All in all it was a decent weekend. Friday was spent shopping and preparing all the food for the Shower. If I never see another tortilla wrap, it will be too soon. Then there was the discussion of how to decorate. Who knew there were so many freakin options? We got it all done. Everyone seemed to enjoy the day, there was little food left. As far as I know, we haven’t poisoned anyone. My game plan was if the doorbell rang and the woman had a gift in tow, she gained access to the party. I only knew maybe 10 people there; as for the rest I truly didn’t care. When will I ever lay eyes on these strangers again? Well I might run into them the night I model the burgundy toga but beyond that, not my problem.

I am getting too old for this much, ahem, excitement on the weekends. Maybe I should reserve my room now at Shady Pines Rest Home for Spinsters. Yep, good idea.