You Know You are Getting Old When.....

....you throw your back out while reaching to grab your clothes from the dryer!



Of course, I told everyone at work that I had a hairy sky diving experience. The actual story was just too damn embarrassing.

What great adventure would you have used? You know, because I have to continue to dry my clothes. I would like to be prepared.

No Wonder They Yelp Incessantly

I ask you, is this healthy?



Remember this? Besides violating about 14 different HOA policies, this is down right disgusting.

If you were a dog, you’d voice your disdain as well.

I’ve tried everything I can think of to gently nudge them to fix the problem. I suppose I have to bring out the big guns. I have an idea of my next course of action. Any suggestions?

Lil Wicked, Ambassador Lil Wicked

Kindly address my niece as Mademoiselle Ambassador from this point forward. While you are at it, wish her a Happy 13th Birthday.



Let me explain. Ambassador Lil Wicked is currently across the globe representing the US of A in New Zealand, then Australia with Fiji bringing up the end of the journey. Someone anonymously nominated her to serve in the People to People Program. Go ahead read all about it, I’ll wait.

Pretty impressive, right? I have to say that without this stint as an Ambassador, the kid is pretty formidable. I know I am her Aunt, but I am pretty sure you’d agree. It was my great honor to be present at the airport this past Saturday to send her off on the first leg of her jaunt. I also was there to keep her parental units from embarrassing her any further than they already do. (Oh Hi Brain Surgeon and BIL#1) Fortunately, if there were any tears shed they were done in private.

Happy Birthday Mademoiselle Lil Wicked. Bon Voyage. Make many memories. Don’t end up in any foreign prisons.

I think I covered them all. Oh, also try to text your father in more than only three words. He is having a bit of anxiety.

Hugs and Kisses
Aunt Wicked

Happy 232nd Birthday, America!

You all have a safe and Happy 4th!

Scantily Clad Menopausal Beauties

Okay Interwebs, a little help please. I don’t usually pay attention to commercials but this one is bugging me.

The product is Evista and it’s geared toward menopausal women. So far so good. The commercial tells the viewer of any possible side effects etcetera. It tells women to contact their physician and ask about the product. Got it.

Riddle me this, why are all the women in the commercial just wrapped up in a sheet? Must the menopausal mama be half naked for this drug to work?

I am obviously missing the marketing strategy.

Anyone?

Still Chewing on this One

Not sure the outcome will become clear to me any time in the near future. I can predict, in my mind, the one event that would make it like Waterford; although that time is in an infinite distance.

Let me know what you think:

"One person’s ingenuity is another’s theft."

Discuss!

Hon Fest Gallery 2008

As I mentioned previously, this was our first foray into the land of Hons during their festival. All three of us had more fun that we thought possible even though it was the hottest day of the year; sweltering would not begin to describe the temperature.

We made our way in to Charm City by way of BS’s new toy; her brand new red convertible VW Bug. Traveling topless gave me ample opportunity to embarrass Lil Wicked by doing the cabbage patch while jamming the satellite radio tunes. The Bug is cute and all but not much room in the back seat. It did not prevent Lil Wicked from diving to the floor boards during my dance off. Embarrassment mission accomplished onto the Hon Fest.

I will let the photos speak for themselves. It was just as advertised - Hons O Plenty.


You know it is a serious event when even the buildings are adorned!


Hottie Hon!


Bee-you-ti-fool Hon!


Bout them O’s, Hon?


When in Honville, do like the Hons!

We have all kinds of ideas for the proper attire for next year. Hope to see you there - Hon!!!

Getting Even....

....because getting mad is such a colossal waste of time.

I am a relatively tolerant person. That is until you have passed my point of no return. Then it gets rather ugly. Stealthy ugly. I am never outwardly devious for that is absolutely no fun.



Creature, you are going down. If it the last thing I do, I will arrange it so that Karma turns it's confused self around and watch it bite you in your sorry ass.

This is personal now. The gloves are off and trust me when I tell you that you don't want the actual wicked side of me to engage. I forgot who I was dealing with, I don't need wickedness at all. I have intelligence on my side.

Enjoy the ride sweetheart, it will not last. Nor will you.

No warning, this is my promise.

LoJack for the Parental Units

Friday night I was just about to settle down with my pomegranate martini when Brain Surgeon called. I answered the phone with our normal salutation "Hi Hon!" What I usually get back is "Hello Hon, What are you doing?" Instead, in a slightly irritated/minimally panicked tone, she asked if I knew where our parents were?

Our parents are not typically out roaming the streets at 6:00 p.m. on a Friday night. They are in their early 80s. I found her question odd for a couple of reasons, the main one being her tone and the fact that both my sisters live within minutes of our parents. My first instinct was that perhaps they went to visit Smelly as she and her parents were away for a week and both Grandparents were having Smelly withdrawal. So I asked BS if she asked Professor Countessa (Smelly’s Mom) the same question. To which I received an audible sigh.

It’s a long story. The Reader’s Digest version is that Professor Countessa was asked to go over to the house to see if anything looked unusual. She did in fact go over and check things out. Her flaw was that she returned to her own home for a nap without reporting back to a worried BS. That is when the call was placed to me. I came up with the same round of suggestions: they are out shopping and splurged and also grabbed dinner (a rarity for them), did we call their cell phones ( we had, neither answered nor do they really know how to use them) and when was the last time anyone of us had spoken to them?

By this time, BS was clearly at a DEFCON 4 level of worrying. Her major premise for the alarm was that a) she is the eldest and b) she was getting ready to leave for vacation and wanted to make sure all was okay before leaving. I tried to reassure her that it was probably something silly like they lost track of time and that we’d hear from them any moment. I told her I would try calling all numbers again and try to get a SITREP from Professor Countessa.

Another ninety minutes ticks past and we still have not heard from our parents. I call and speak with BIL1 and ask him for the names of the local hospitals. I decided I would eliminate the anxiety of wondering if they were in an emergency room. He kindly volunteered to make those calls; thankfully they were not in a hospital. After more brainstorming, we decided to call a couple of their friends to see if any of them had any news.

By the second call, we found them. Who knew that the homeland team had made it into round two of the World Cup Soccer championships? They were with their buds enjoying the double O.T. win. Viva la Homeland team!!!

The next game is on the 25th, we have grounded our parents until then.......

And, I Get Paid!!

Our office has been invaded by ants. I don’t think this is a revelation for anyone in this area. I am not an expert on ants or how to eliminate them; however I am certain that the following scenario was not going to help.

Behold an interesting exchange between my office mate and I:

Office Mate (OM): Well just so everyone knows, I just used one of the anti-AIDS virus wipes and got rid of the ants in the kitchen.

Wicked: Mmmm hmmm. Good for you.

After a few minutes, OM visits the kitchen to survey her accomplishment.

OM: I don’t understand.

Wicked: What don’t you understand?

OM: The ants, they’re back!

Wicked: What made you think they were gone?

OM: Well the anti-AIDS virus wipes, of course!!

Wicked: Seriously, all you accomplished was to eliminate the ants from contracting and spreading the virus, possibly Hepatitis and lets throw in any other STD for good measure. As for obliterating the colony, the wipe can’t do that.

OM: Darn!

Can you believe I get paid for this kind of entertainment??

I know!!

Bawlmer Bucket List Item

That’s right! Can you guess where Brain Surgeon, Lil Wicked and I will be this weekend?

C’mon, one guess.

Wrong! We will be over here Hon!

You know you’re jealous!

I hope my beehive holds up. If not, that would be tragic, Hon!

Enough Already!

Too damn hot!

No motivation.

Hope all is well in your corner of the blogosphere/world.

Send dry ice!!

Oy!

Well-Mannered Dirty Martini

First, if you have not yet tried one, get thee to your local watering hole and report back. Touts suite!

Second, if your Maternal Unit tore you a new one for issues that are not even within your comprehension, let alone your control, have at least two.

Friends, let us all agree that family ties are a slippery slope. It is no secret that my Father went through a major ordeal recently. He sailed through; easy breezy. My Mother, the Drama Queen, is still internalizing all her pent up frustrations from that recent period. Correction, she unleashed her frustrations onto Brain Surgeon while being transported to a shopping excursion. I will not go into the gory details.

What I will share is that I picked up my sisters, Brain Surgeon and Maternal Countessa, for an evening of harbor breezes and the dulcet tunes of our Sweet Baby James. The Sisters Wicked attended the James Taylor concert at the Pier Six Pavilion located in the heart of the Inner Harbor of Baltimore. Or for the natives, “bout them O’s...Hon?”

We began our late afternoon with a yummy platter of apps consumed on the patio of the Cheesecake Factory. We washed down our apps with a couple or three “well-mannered” dirty martinis. I was told that I needed to step up and make the hour and a half trek to Maryland when our Mother wanted to be dropped off for one of her therapeutic shopping trips. Keep in mind, won’t you, that two of the Sisters live within 5 minutes of the Parental Units. But Professor Countessa thought I should make the trip because I wasn’t helping out enough. Sisters, can’t live with them and can’t knock them into the Harbor without getting arrested.

Anyway, I had a bit of solace when Professor Countessa was unable to operate the new Dyson hand dryer:

I watched BS use it first, made a joke about how I obviously had to get out more and was successful in drying my hands. Professor Countessa just stared at it and then wiped her hands on her jeans. I quietly said a quick prayer for all of the Professor's students and hoped that none would ask for a refund. Seriously, if you can teach biology, one would imagine that you could figure out the hand dryer after first watching both of your siblings utilize the contraption.

I digress. The weather was perfect. James was a bit shy while conversing with the audience. The young physician behind us was having issues with her answering service. The Baby Boomers can throw back dozens of cocktails during a show as well as empty their bladders just as often. Pier Six is a fantastic venue, if you’ve never been, try it at least once.

I do not recommend discussing the length of time a PAP smear should take while trapped in your vehicle with both your sisters, in a parking garage with no visible means of escape. Should you find yourself in this situation, just keep quiet. Trust me , you’ll thank me later.

How sweet it was to be out with James........

Memorial Day

Memorial Day Weekend traditionally marks the beginning of summer. However, during your upcoming celebrations, stop and think about the true meaning of the day, which is to honor those who in uniform who have given what Lincoln called "the last full measure of devotion."

Unlearned Lesson

Memorial Day
Of every year
The little valiant
Flags appear
On every fallen
Soldier's grave--
Symbol of what
Each died to save.
And we who see
And still have breath--
Are we no wiser
For their death?

~Dorothy Brown Thompson~

Bawk, BAWK

Why did the chicken cross the road?
(I can only take credit for passing this one along - enjoy!)

*_BARACK OBAMA:_*
The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a CHANGE! The
chicken wanted CHANGE!

*_JOHN MC CAIN:_*
My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the
need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the
other side of the road!

*_HILLARY CLINTON:_*
When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross
the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure --
right from Day One! -- that every chicken in this country gets the
chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about
me.......

*_DR. PHIL:_*
The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he
must first deal with the problem on 'THIS' side of the road before it
goes after the problem on the 'OTHER SIDE' of the road. What we need to
do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his
'CURRENT' problems before adding 'NEW' problems.

*_OPRAH:_*
Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why
he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken
learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm
going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the
road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.

*_GEORGE W. BUSH:_*
We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want
to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken
is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

*_COLIN POWELL_*:
Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite
image of the chicken crossing the road...

*_ANDERSON COOPER - CNN:_*
We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet
been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.

*_JOHN KERRY:_*
Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against
it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's
intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.

*_NANCY GRACE:_*
That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see it in
his eyes and the way he walks.

*_PAT BUCHANAN_*:
To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

*_MARTHA STEWART:_*
No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a
standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price
dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider
information.

*_DR SEUSS_*:
Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the
chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.

*_ERNEST HEMINGWAY:_*
To die in the rain. Alone.

*_JERRY FALWELL:_*
Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain truth?'
That's why they call it the 'other side.' Yes, my friends, that chicken
is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we
boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal
media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like 'the other
side.' That chicken should not be crossing the road. It's as plain
and as simple as that.

*_GRANDPA:_ *
In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody
told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

*_BARBARA WALTERS:_*
Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the
chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it
experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its
life long dream of crossing the road.

*_ARISTOTLE:_*
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

*_JOHN LENNON:_*
Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in
peace.

*_BILL GATES:_*
I have just released eChicken2007, which will not only cross roads,
but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check
book. Internet Explorer is an integral part of the Chicken. This new
platform is much more stable and will never cra...#@&&^(C% .........
reboot.

*_ALBERT EINSTEIN:_*
Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the
chicken?

*_BILL CLINTON:_*
I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your definition of
chicken?

*_AL GORE_*
I invented the chicken!

*_COLONEL SANDERS_*:
Did I miss one?

*_DICK CHENEY:_*
Where's my gun!

Knowledge is Power, Not in this Case

I am extremely happy to report that my Father did very well and is now at home.

He is in his early eighties, a physician and this was his first (and last we hope) major surgery in his lifetime. I won’t go into all the sordid details of the surgery but I will tell you he was released with 50 staples holding his mid to lower back together. I can also share that every person from orderly, food service personnel, nurses’ aides/ assistance, nurses, physical and occupational therapists, physicians’ assistants, nurse practitioners and his Surgeon treated him like royalty. We spent the better part of a week at Washington Hospital Center. As a person who also works in the health care community, I can report that I noticed most everyone that works there seems quite content with their job. Not an easy feat in any work environment. Now some might argue that my Father received preferential treatment since Brain Surgeon works there however there were countless personnel who had no idea who he was other than another patient in the facility. Hats off to the staff at WHC, my Father’s experience was a good one.

It is widely known that medical people make the worst patients. In my Father’s case, he was waiting for every negative outcome to occur instead of focusing on the positives. Considering all the possible post operative negatives that could have transpired, he was only subjected to a few. The main obstacle was his projectile vomiting episode late into the night following his surgery. Unfortunately for her, this took place on Brain Surgeons watch. She took the first night of bedside care of my Father. She had to work the next day she figured that would make the best sense. Needless to say, she got zero sleep that night and had to go to pull her normal 13 hour shift the next day.

My Father refused to use his narcotic delivery pump for fear that he would be hooked on morphine. Several times during my shifts with him I seriously gave thought to figuring out how to hook that pump into my arm. (I kid! Well, I did have the recurring thoughts...)During his immediate pre-op interview, he was asked what his allergies were? My Father listed them in the following order: lard, MSG, penicillin and sulfa drugs. I am very sure there was not going to be any sprinkling of MSG into the incision nor lard used to flush out an IV line. I guess he wanted cover all his bases. Even in his post-op haze, he was able to explain to anyone within an earshot of the evils of MSG and how any item in the clear liquid post-op diet included the dreaded ingredient. That on top of the projectile vomiting kept him from ingesting anything by mouth besides tea.

All that aside, he was up and walking around as was ordered and things are going very well. He is at home recuperating and so far his biggest complaints are constipation and incontinence. Both should calm down as the anesthesia metabolizes out of his body. My Mother is having more than a bit of anxiety as she is no longer the center of attention, but they will have to work that out. I love my Mother but we have created a monster. (Another post for another time.)

Thank you all for the well wishes, thoughts, prayers and e-mails. I know each and every one of them helped all of us.

I need to ask you all a huge favor.

My Father is going in for major surgery tomorrow and I need all the good thoughts the Interwebs can spare. The sisters Wicked will be on full time care for the next week. Maternal Countessa will be with our Mom and Brain Surgeon and I will be with Dad. I have taken leave from work for as long as needed and BS will be pulling double duty as the surgery will take place in her hospital and while she is not on duty she will at Dad’s bedside along with me.

Don’t forget to call your Mom’s today or remember them as the case may be.

You all try to be good while I am away, if you cannot be good at least make me proud!

Dear Springtime Cyclist:

Dude! Listen, I am all for everyone embracing the fabulous weather and exercising. Truly, kudos to you.

However, some things are better left to the imagination. Seriously, green mylar micro-mini shorts with birken stocks is not appropriate in any situation let alone outdoor cycling. Believe me when I tell you that more clothes are needed when exposing your self to the ultra violet waves and the public for the first time.

Are you familiar with the term snowblind? Yes, that much glare is not healthy for you or the general public. Cover up, wear suitable shoes for biking and please, don’t forget your helmet.

Hugs and Kisses

Nip Tuck, Part Deux

If you’ve been here a while, you are familiar with my very limited ability with technology. A web designer I am not. Trust me when I tell you that besides having the ability to throw posts and the occasional picture on this site, hyperlinks still intimidate me. When I received an offer for a re-design, I jumped at the chance.

Friends, I’d like to share with you my new design. A little blog botox here some color enhancement there and we now have a beautiful look. Kudos to my Web Mistress Lissa. She is a very talented writer and photographer. She is thinking of doing web design as a part time gig. If she needs a reference, she will certainly receive a glowing one from me.

All Good Dogs Go to Heaven

Still missing you terribly even after 2 years.

Nope not ready to move on. We will see each other again, one day.....

Sniff.