Tag: Humor

My Demented Bucket List

~ JodiLea ~ 5 Comments

bucket I have not written a ‘real’ bucket list because, well… I’m not that old yet…

However, when Matticus invites you to play a game, you really should play. Because you will have fun. For my dear readers who are curious, but need more motivation –>How about; BECAUSE I SAID SO!!  (It always worked for my mother.)

Another famous blogger I follow, Rarasaur, is experiencing a horrible demented bucket list now. This bucket list game is in her honor, as well as attempting to cheer her up.

There is some crazy stuff that only in a demented state would I even imagine such things could happen (to me).  And I have a very comprehensive imagination – BTW.

My Demented Bucket List

  • Was in a major car accident involving a semi-truck rear-ending a Pinto at 50 mph.
  • We (me and 3 cousins) were rescued by good Samaritan’s who pulled us out the front windows because the back seat had wrapped around the front doors, and the gas tank tore open and gasoline was running down the highway.
  • Was able to pay for 2 semesters of college with settlement money, but still have trouble with my C-5 (vertebrae).
  • I warmed up with the 49ers, on their field at Candlestick Park, one Sunday, pre-game.
  • Kicked a field goal perfectly centered between the posts, and 1 measly inch lower than the crossbar. The referee would not give me a do-over. The Bastard!
  • Heard a packed stadium moan “Awww!” in unison. Because of me.
  • Being read my “rights” by police.
  • Experiencing the “good cop, bad cop” thing live, and not on TV.
  • Being grateful to the DA for deciding not to prosecute an idiot who was too stupid to realize she committed a felony.  Duh.
  • Proofreading a post and getting the “No writing errors were found”

Well, that’s it for now.  I need to get back to reading other people’s dented bucket lists to cheer myself up.

Hang in there, Queen Raur!

😉

 

photo credit: christing-O- via photopin cc

 

Why I’m Donating My Body To Science

~ JodiLea

OperatingRoomWhoever said that “50 is the new 30”, is so full of crap! For me, it’s more like ’30 is the new 50′.

This month I turned another year older. I don’t feel any different from I way I felt before my birthday. Aside from a few really cool gifts, the day was S.S.D.D. (same sh*t, different day) all around.  Yawn.

My face and skin tell on my age, but beyond that, my body does not abide by the same rules of aging like normal people. And no – I don’t grow younger or older faster. There is no portrait in the attic.

What I’m talking about, is that physiologically speaking, I’m an anomaly (a.k.a. a freak of nature). All my life medical people have told me “Oh, you are too young to have blah-dee-blah” or  “Oh, you are too old to be having doodly-doo”.

For example – At age 12.5 I began menstruating, probably the only thing that’s happened in a timely manner. But at age 14, I started going through menopause. My periods stopped. I grew a mustache, among other disturbing things. I had night sweats. My acne turned into volcanic cysts. The deep and scarring kind. The sit home on Saturday night kind.

My mom drug me to her gynecologist for an exam. Not a recommended way to lose your virginity, but at least I had a note from the doctor to show my future groom. It turned out the hormonal distress was caused by poly-cystic ovary disease. And too much testosterone.

My testosterone level was higher than my estrogen level. Was my body trying to become male? I started a self-inventory then. I had broad shoulders, and a muscular frame.  My voice was not girly in nature. OMG!  These facts plummeted my self-confidence.  The treatment? The doc put on the strongest birth-control pill that existed – to bypass my own hormones.  My acne got a bit better, but unfortunately, it was too late for my chest.  Too late for my ovaries also, they speculated I may not be able to conceive. Ha! They should meet my beautiful daughter sometime…

When I was 29-years old, I got Chicken Pox. It nearly killed me. I had to start taking my short-term disability from work. My own daughter was terrified of me. I had so many scabs that I looked like a burn victim.  A doctor in urgent care actually whipped out his camera and took photos – with and without gown. I hope he got recognition for his journal article.  Somewhere there is a medical book with my scabby ass in it, I know it.

I never got ‘carded’ at a bar or liquor store until I was 30. Also in that decade, I broke out in shingles.  Then I somehow contracted another childhood disease, which was a rash of super tiny bumps and a fever. My doctor at the time could not even remember the name for it. All I knew was I had that “kids rash thing”. I was also contagious. Try to explain that to your boss.

My 40’s were a blur of stress, depression, anxiety and addiction – that I won’t go into now. Believe me when I say it’s a miracle I even made it to my 50’s.

When I was 49-years old I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. It turns out that I had Type I, but was misdiagnosed because I – get this – was not a juvenile.

If you have read thus far, Thank You.  And please let me emphasize that my donation will happen after I die!  It’s doubtful any of my organs will be healthy enough to transplant. Who knows, maybe my body will help a breakthrough in diabetes research, or something else significant. Either way, I won’t be needing it anymore.

I am NOT happy that small-pox is making a comeback!  There are actually ignorant people out there, who don’t get their kids vaccinated. I was vaccinated when I was 6-years old. I don’t know the statute of limitations for a small-pox vaccine, but I probably need a booster by now…

 

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photo credit: The U.S. Army via photopin cc

The Woman Rules: Our Side of the Story

~ JodiLea ~ 1 Comment

TeaTimeLast month I received copy of “The Man Rules” in my email. I, with some fellow bloggers/readers, had to respond with some “rules” of our own.

1.  Hurting us physically or emotionally may make us cry. If you do not want us to cry then don’t do that. If YOU did not hurt us, don’t try to ‘fix’ us. Just hold us and let us cry it all out.

2.  If  you realize you made a mistake, or that you were wrong about something – fess up. Apologize if you need to. Odds are you need to.

3.  Leave the damn toilet seat however you want.  Just AIM for pity’s sake.

4.  Do not ask the woman you just drove to and from outpatient surgery, “What’s for dinner?”

5.  Whenever the 49er’s (or whoever) have a game, we will be using the TV. Yes, that includes the remote. We will not be cooking, answering the phone – anything.  PLAN AHEAD.  The team schedule is posted on the fridge.

6.  We cannot read minds.  But, we are pretty sure we know what you’re thinking.

7.  If you are refusing to talk (or otherwise communicate) with us, we will imagine, construe – basically make up, what’s wrong and why you are not speaking to us.  We are aware of #6, but that does not keep us from inventing ridiculous scenarios in our head. These scenarios always turn out badly for you.

8.  When we tell you that your habit of checking out “babes”, or flirting with them, doesn’t bother us – WE ARE LYING.

9.  We know we are eating way too much pizza and Chinese food, but it’s been a long day, we don’t want to cook, and no one else is offering to.

10. If you think our menstrual cycle is horrifying – just wait until menopause. WE don’t even know what the Hell is going on. What we do know is we have Zero Tolerance for annoying.  And everything annoys us.

God be with you.   ♥

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Photo credit to Letty, proprietor of The August Tea Room, Livermore, CA.
Ladies having tea: Myself, My Lovely Daughter and My Lovely Daughter From Another Mother.
[left to right]