Category Archives: #Humor/Comical/Funny/Humorus

Repost “Water Bagging”

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Aging & Attitude

 What is Water Bagging? Water Bagging is a newly coined phrased (by me) referring to an experience that can occur in public bathrooms. Water Bagging has a snappy ring, sounds like water boarding minus genuine torture. The similarity, other than the obvious H2O, is the incident left me feeling victimized and asking, “What can be done legally?”

My mission was to exchange an ink cartridge that went dry printing a few Sudoku grids.

The customer service person at the local super store said, “Without a receipt or the packaging, I can only give you ink.”

“That’s fine.” I said. Did she think I wanted money?

“Go get a new one; you don’t have to wait in line again when you come back.”

Great, I hike to technology, grab a new HP cartridge and a second one, just in case, and skip line.  She checks me out with a reminder to save the receipt and off I go. Life is good.

I  see a restroom, do not ‘really’ have to go, but slip inside. All the stalls are in use. The handicap stall frees-up first, no handicap people are in line, and I hurry in.

Thanks to an ABC story, “Your Purse Could be Making You Sick” about pseudopodia, Staphylococcus aureus, ecoli and salmonella invading our homes due to women putting handbags on the floor, I look to hang my bag on the back of the door. The hook is missing. My handbag is small with two handles and closes with a snap, but not snapped. I dump my bag on the edge of the sink and start to undo my slacks.  The bag slumps into the sink, no big deal, until with my pants down and a plastic grocery bag on my wrist notice that like Niagara Falls, water is pouring into my handbag. Tripping, I grab the handbag out of the sink and begin tossing the contents into the plastic bag strangling my wrist. Once the handbag is empty, I pour mega amounts of water out, puddle walk to the toilet, sit with the bags on my lap, and pee, studying my wet stuff.

The ink from the receipt is bleeding and threatens to blotch up several items.

The automated paper towel dispenser is just beyond my reach, wiggling closer (my pants are still down) I manage to activate the release of brown paper by flapping my arms. I wipe things dry while standing.  A couple of deep knee bends later my pants are secured and nothing has touched the floor.

Leaving, I stop to use a noisy hand dryer hoping to preserve the needed HP ink cartridge receipt, conflicted about searching my handbag for ear plugs to prevent loss of hearing from these mother of devices.

Does Water Bagging happen to anyone else? What are the numbers?

Legislation is needed, a grass-roots movement, Women United Against Automatic Flush Toilets, Soap and Paper Towel on Demand Dispensers, and Hot & Cold Water Request Valves That Only Work When You Do Not Want Them To.

We could start a protest similar to Occupy Wall Street, but still pay taxes, babysit grandchildren and sleep in beds.                                                                                                   ….Just Saying.

Repost “Over Active What?”

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(Mr. Wonderful is recovering from surgery, and needs my special attention, consequently a  repost that many of you may have missed and others will still enjoy.)

Aging & Attitude

Overactive bladder is a scary phrase for someone my age.  According to Dr. Paul Donohue, there are several ways to wet your pants.  His daily column in the local News Journal Newspaper answered a reader’s concerns and the good news; you can retrain your bladder, and or take medicine.

Leakage or stress incontinence is loss of urine when swinging a golf club, laughing, and sneezing. Laughter and golf may not go together. If you anticipate a good time golfing, tee up with pads, not knee, the other kind. Perhaps you have seen Whoopi Goldberg’s TV advertisements. Another option is to be a straight-faced golfer committed to not laughing.

Urge incontinence is the other overactive bladder condition. Early symptoms (in my non-medical opinion) are, fear that a bathroom is not readily available when needed, and using a bathroom when you do not have to, resulting in bladder shrinkage.

Dr. Donohue states that the medicines Vesicaare, Enablex, Detrol, Ditropan, and Sanctura help control the urge resulting from bladder contractions. He suggests retraining the bladder by delaying use of the bathroom for five minutes for a week and gradually increasing the time before “going” until you are “going” every two hours or more. This process may result in doing the pee-pee dance, but it does work.

He also recommends avoiding alcohol, carbonated beverages, milk, milk products, honey, sugar and artificial sweeteners during training periods. This man is no fun.

Dr. Donohue goes on to describe a more barbaric invasive procedure, called InterStim no one wants to talk about, although it does stimulate a nerve somewhere in the lower body.

Thank you Dr. Paul Donohue. It is comforting to know there are options. We can take medicine or give up my favorites, wine and ice cream, and stay home to retrain our bladder.

                                                                      ….just saying

Zero Ending Birthdays

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happy-birthday-ornament-backgrounds-wallpapers

Aging & Attitude

A dear writing friend, Marsha, recently celebrated a  zero ending birthday or a “big one” and shared her thoughts about the occasion. She offers an interesting perspective I think you’ll enjoy.

Zero Ending Birthdays

                                      by Guest Blogger, Marsha

Birthday Blog

 (to no one in particular – just because I feel like writing a blog)

I recently celebrated one of those “milestone” birthdays. For the last ten years there has been just a one digit change to the years of life number, but now all of sudden both digits have changed! That comfort zone has been lost to a whole new era of unfamiliar and intimidating numbers. Plus there is this new theory that you are actually ten years younger than your age now, based on the wonders of baby boomers living longer than their predecessors, which presents an entirely new issue of confusion.

Graduating to the new number has also brought to light the birthday cards designed for the consumer to address this milestone. And for some reason, many well wishers seem to think they need to send a card with the new number boldly emblazoned on the front of the card. I hadn’t received a number card before that I could recall, although I probably did for the big 40 (can’t really remember at this point – and it was probably a funny card), as we see a lot of decorations available for this particular birthday milestone in the party stores.

But my recent birthday seems to have prompted a bevy of different salutations that shouted “you should feel excited to be alive at a time when you are really free to live”,” liking what you have become”, or “ this day is to celebrate the beginning of the most beautiful years of your life.”

Seriously – does this make me feel good? Is this a happy birthday greeting?

I’m sorry, but I find this disconcerting and almost downright rude. Do people really think we want to hear this stuff? Isn’t it enough that we are in the quagmire of not yet qualifying for Social Security, dealing with healthcare insurance issues and grappling with where to invest our hard earned retirement money?

You have probably guessed my new number by now.

Please understand that I don’t mind the aging process. I can live with that. What I object to is being reminded that my double digit birthday is a landmark that is being shouted from the rooftops by these ridiculous cards that come our way at a time when you would rather celebrated the day with a simple “Happy Birthday” or a piece of cake……

As my friend Claudia would say

                            ….Just saying

Help and The Help Button

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Aging & Attitude

Computers are great. I personally have a love hate relationship with them. I feel in the dark and constantly ask, “How would I know that?” Use the help button is the answer.

Is the help button helpful?

Depends, if you ask the right question.

Case in point, I wanted to change the tired saying, “Do a Good Deed Daily,” at the bottom of my email to “just saying”.

I put the message in, surely, I can get it out.

I attempted to use Yahoo help search, typed in delete a note or message, and got nowhere.

After an hour of trying, I emailed Yahoo Mail Customer Care and praise the Lord received instructions from Tito, who told me what I really wanted to do, change the signature and the seven steps necessary to make the change.

Exhausted I moved the email to a Save Folder for later.

In the meantime, I had other dilemmas. My wireless stopped working.

Do you know how the internet works? You can watch the utube video; There and Back Again: A Packet’s Tale – How doe…By worldscifest| 1 video for a quick study.

I attempted to restore my wireless using troubleshooting, checked and double checked the settings, but was still off-line, so I picked up the phone and called Dell for help.

The customer service representative was diligent, but unsuccessful in restoring my service, and finally enlisted a supervisor to discover there is an on/off wireless button on a Dell computer. How would I know this?

Mine had been accidentally turned off.

When our General Electric digital camera worked intermittently, I read the manual to rectify the problem but could not, then called customer service and asked to mail the camera back, it seemed defective.

They telephoned, said the camera was tested, not broken and would be returned it to me.

It still worked intermittently.

I went to Radio Shack to buy a new card, and told the sales person my tale of woe. He reinserted the card and return the camera to me saying, “It’s fine.”

Exacerbated I exclaimed, “It wasn’t working a minute ago!” I opened the flap, took out the card, and reinserted it.

The sales person smiled, “It didn’t  click.”

“Didn’t click. What click?” I inquired.

Evidently, the card is not fully in until it clicks.

How would I know that?

Recently my friend,  Christine, of Words etc, solved a few computer issues for me using the help button and restored the notion the help button is helpful.

However using the help button involves viewing the instructions and the annoying list of how to do that, gives me a headache.

  • Cut & paste the seven steps, in word and print the instructions.
  • Memorize seven steps
  • Scribble abbreviations on a scrap of paper
  • Restore down

I have a better solution.

Use two electronic devices, one to view the help instructions and the other to make the changes or corrections.

Since I have a wireless laptop and a kindle fire, I put them side by side.

On the Kindle Fire, type change signature in Yahoo Help and open Yahoo Mail on the laptop.

Now the instructions are in plain view and I can make the changes, no problemo (I’m part Italian).

                                                                ….Just saying

New Year Resolutions In July

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Half Way There

Aging & Attitude

The Rise & Shine section of the News Journal, informs the reader of the date, the days left in the year and gives a quote.

Today is Tuesday, June 19 the 171st day of 2012 and there are 195 days left in the year.

The quote; “One has two duties – to be worried and not to be worried” by EM Foster a British author (1879-1970)

I worry. We are 171 days into the year and I am nowhere near accomplishing my New Year’s resolutions. Remember, the things we planned to change and have not.

I saw Bubbles at the gym recently. She is not thinner, neither am I.

I have lost and regained the same two pounds many times in the past six months and frequent the gym although, the measurements logged in my journal have not changed. The good news is I am not heavier nor wider.

No, there are not 171 entries in my writing journal even though it was a New Year’s resolution to write every day. There are fifty, well less than forty.

I am moving at a snail’s pace.

How are you doing with those New Year’s Resolutions?

I gave up weeding (number one on the list), but lack a sense of real accomplishment, because I sold the house to do it, literally.

I am eating healthier after attending a Vegan Festival and scared shitless about meat and milk. We eat soymilk, cheese, and margarine. Boca Burgers pass for a real burger. Tofurky has the taste of sausage but the consistency of a hardboiled egg white. The picture shows a recent birthday dinner, cheesy potatoes, kale, and blackened tuna with salsa, quite delicious. Mr. Wonderful raved about the cheesy potatoes made with butternut squash. VegRecipes.org.

It feels like I am taking three steps forward and two steps backwards every day.

However, I am not worried because there are 195 days remaining in 2012 to make those resolutions  happen.

We need a boost, like retail does with a Christmas in July sale.

Why not revisit New Year’s Eve Resolutions in July?

Rather than abandon goals or throw the baby out with the bath water, re-energize, re-organize and re-think strategies.

This is Leap year and there are 366 days in 2012. The 183nd day of the year, halfway to 2013 will be in 13 days or July 2 (for those of you not good in math, trust me).

Rethink failure, join me in celebrating July 2 as “Halfway to Resolution Day”. Forget about fireworks and a big celebration. Sit in a corner, ponder the consequences and let me know.                                                                                           

                                                       ….just saying

(Those exempt from resolution are eligible to comment)

Careful What You Wish For and George Foreman

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GE DIGITAL CAMERA

In January, Mr. Wonderful and I turned to each other and said, “Gee, I wish we could sell the house.” January 11th we sat with a dear friend, who is a realtor, and signed the papers.

No fooling, April 1st, we received and accepted an offer.  Our wish came true that fast and we scrambled to find a living place with enough space for our “stuff.”

We fell in love with a Villa apartment about 15 miles north of Halifax Plantation in Hammock Dunes.  It was everything we said we never wanted, a gated community, no garage, no attic, no recycling and because a second home for many owners, alive on the weekends.

However, there are flowers galore, and no weeding (a harmful addiction I have struggled to overcome). We would give up 1200 sq. ft. of screened lanai living area, say good-by to barbecue grilling, and empty the water-bed.

We were not, unhappy, just conflicted and now renters.

Mr. Wonderful hired Two Men and A Truck for moving day, and got a Budget rental truck to transport numerous boxes plus other stuff to Eagles Nest storage facility, while I cried and sold treasured belongings, including the gas grill, on Craigslist.

We have grilled for the past thirty-five years. Yes, with snow on the ground and in the garage protected from downpours.

We started in 1977 using a Hibachi on an apartment balcony in the Bronx.  Hibachi is what Northerners call a small charcoal table grill. You still see them in State parks. Before Mr. Wonderful came home from work, I started the charcoal briquettes in a one pound coffee can that had both ends removed. I filled the can with ten charcoal briquettes, squirted lighter fluid at them, and struck a match to ignite. In a half  hour, they were hot enough to spread out, add more briquettes, and grill a chuck steak.

After a debate about sneaking a grill on the 10 by 12 foot apartment balcony, a George Foreman grill became an option.GE DIGITAL CAMERA

I was skeptical about a cooking device designed by a man punched in the face for a living who named all six sons George, after himself. Surprise, surprise, the grill does a nice job.  Evidently, George has become an expert and there are forty or more models to choose from.  We might have to upgrade.

We have been here ten days.

While unpacking, I realized we no longer use, but are attached to some ‘stuff’.

The packed silver set is a good example. Include, three sets of stainless steel unpacked, and we have thirty-six, dinner forks, salad forks, knives, teaspoons, and soup spoons; a total of 180 eating utensils.

Well, I am still making pasta salad for eight; hoping more than two will show up.

                                                                               ….Just saying

$100,000 Harvard Pay Toilets

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Toilet_bowl : Several hundred dollar bills in a toilet bowl about to be flushed Stock Photo

Aging & Attitude

I sit in a doctor’s office waiting room. After about twenty minutes, annoyed with myself for not bringing a book, search the magazine rack and decide upon an issue of Time, dated March 12th. The news is still new to me, I have not read the magazine. In the business section, a small heading grabs my attention.

     $100,000  Pay Toilets Your Name Here

I am familiar with naming opportunities; a benefactor donates a huge chunk of change and a building is named for him.

The good news jumps across the page, millions are no longer necessary. A one hundred thousand dollar donation will get your name on something …a toilet. I continue to read looking for the punch line. It is not a joke.

The article by Josh Sanburn states, “It’s a strategy more universities are employing to raise cash in this strapped economy.”  And cites the University of Pennsylvania as an example. “Plaques saying, ‘This relief you are now experiencing is made possible by a gift from Michael Zinman’, line its bathroom walls.”

Naming toilets is deemed a win-win situation, grab extra tissue to laugh while you pee.

Sanburn explains the benefits to the benefactor, it is affordable, and for the university; necessary because “state government funding dropped nearly 8% last year nationwide”.

The genius who thought of this probably sold the Brooklyn Bridge, too. It gets better.

A recent NPR interview discusses the role of merit scholarships in raising college costs.

A merit scholarship is not awarded for brains or talent. Robert Massa, a vice president at Lafayette says. “The primary reason for awarding a non-need-based merit scholarship is to change a student’s enrollment decision from another institution to our institution. That’s why colleges do it.”

The toilet naming opportunity is not mentioned specifically, however, I speculate NPR will be interviewing Michael Zinman, his name appears on a throne.

Merit scholarships are getting bigger as each college competes for the best students.

Confused? Relax, you do not have to pay to pee at Harvard or Lafayette, yet. Peeing is still free.

Massa continues, “On top of that, the school gives need-based grants to many students. A majority of students get grants of some kind — fewer than 50 percent actually pay the full sticker price.”

The tuition increases.

Colleges pay students more than they need to come to their college and off set the cost by having  students who can pay more.

Now the need for naming toilets makes sense, it covers the difference.

Will people be impressed when you brag, Granddaddy has a bathroom named for him at Harvard Law School, or wonder, whatever?

                                                      …Just Saying

Betty Blasé and New Horizons

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Aging & Attitude

“I’ve become blasé,” said a woman at the New Horizons Brunch for new members, ending our conversation that threatened to become passionate. She smiled, and took a step back to distance herself from me. She wore ‘big-girl’ shoes with a large fake rhinestone separating her first two toes.

“Blasé what a wonderful word,” I respond, but fail to keep her engaged. The crowded breakfast nook engulfs her lack of interest. Soft wrinkles languish her face, her tone aloof as she snaps her neck to suggest she was not always apathetic, it is an acquired skill.

She wears it well like a sophisticated article of clothing, dance attire.  I want to be blasé. Blasé could be  equivalent to Botox or Juvederm injections and cheaper.  Her skin glows.

My mind escapes to a fantasy world and I morph into Betty Blasé, a new and improved self.  When motorists drive in my trunk during the day, I flip the rearview mirror to ‘night-vision’, instead of yelling, “wrap yourself around a tree, see if I care,” and as they speed by, adjust the air conditioning, calmly.

I feel in control of my emotions and straighten my back to stand a little taller. The room is decorated in damask lined drapes hung high upon the wall and sparkling glass tables.

Surely, I can learn indifference when the Bagger in Publix double wraps my chicken in plastic after I hand him cloth and painstakingly explained the chicken gets naked next to my eggs and butter at home in our refrigerator.

Several New Horizon members drift towards the front door ready to leave.  I promise myself the next time a group of kids covered with tattoos and reeking of profanity pass by I will NOT mumble, “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

I exchange goodbyes with the host and mosey towards my car thinking, it is conceivable to yawn at newspaper stories debating those guilty of pet abuse; Obama, who ate dog or Romney, who transported Seamus, a pet, crated on a car roof.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Just Saying

 


We’ve Fallen & We Can Get Up

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   Mr. Wonderful, my husband of forty years, is wonderful, mostly.  He is my househusband, does most of the food shopping and cooking, and dusts if I ask ‘pretty please’. I’m loving it. He seems content, and has heightened status among women when they learn all he does. Although, the guys turn up the TV volume when he becomes the topic of conversation.

   I make a point of showing my appreciation. Today I sat on his lap, gave him a nice kiss. Enjoying the attention he playfully embraces me, arms behind my back. I slipped my arms under his shoulders and interconnected my fingers around his back nervous we might fall. Like Fabio on the cover of a romantic novel, he curves my back across his knee, and we topple.

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t tell. Are you okay?”

“You’re lying on my arm, I can’t move.”

“You’re lying on my chest; do you think I can move?”

 We’ve fallen and we can’t get up.

 “Claudia, you’re killing my arm, you have to move.”

 Granted his arm is underneath me, taking the bulk of the fall; his 200 lbs pressing my 135 lbs into the floor. But I am flattened like a pancake too and cannot move.

  So I quip, “Let me see if I can bench press your 200 lbs. with my nose.”

 “You’re killing my wrist, move!” He says, with a loud little boy in pain tone, to his voice.

  Wondering if I am able to take in air, I say, sweetly, “Don’t panic, yet. Where’s your other arm?”

  “What other arm?”

  “The other arm attached to your body. I’m lying on your right arm, where is your left?”

  He pauses at length to consider the possibility, and responds “You mean this one,” raising his left arm above his head.

  Relieved, I suggest he use it to lift himself, allowing me to push up so he can retrieve his right arm.

  He does. I move and guess what, we have fallen, but we can get up.

                                                                                                                                    …just saying 

Global Positioning System & Your Hippocampus

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Gray739-emphasizing-hippocampus.png

Aging & Attitude

“Have you heard about Todd?”

“No, what about Todd?”

“He went out walking and fell.”

“Oh my God, how?”

“It’s a long story, has to do with the hippocampus.”

“The hippocampus, what is that?”

“You never heard of the hippocampus, the part of your brain that remembers things, especially new stuff.  If you move to a new neighborhood and go out for a walk, how to get back home. Where you parked at the mall or the date of a doctor’s appointment.  Well Todd’s hippocampus is shrinking, just like, he used to be six foot one and is now five ten.  It’s part of the aging process. Remember “The Graduate” and Dustin Hoffman learning that the key to the future was plastics, the hippocampus is now the key to remembering, or so it seems.

“Are you sure? I read AARP’s recent article “Age Proof Your Brain,” It lists ten things, and I don’t remember reading about any hippopotamus…

“That’s because it’s new information, your hippocampus could already be damaged. Ever have hypoxia, heart attack, respiratory failure, sleep apnea or near drowning?  They discovered new benefits to jumping up and down for extended periods. Exercise may slow shrinkage of the hippocampus and specifically the part that passes new information into permanent storage.

“Enough, I’m getting a headache. Tell me about Todd.”

“Well, it seems Todd goes on walks and is gone forever. Apparently, he gets lost in the neighborhood. Marilyn suggested he charge the GPS and take it with him.”

“Todd’s not that old to be that forgetful and who is Marilyn?”

“Marilyn. . . his wife.”

“Marilyn isn’t his wife. He’s married to Barbara.”

“Marilyn’s his wife, do you want to hear what happened? So Todd, by the way he’s almost eighty, goes for his walk and after hitting “GO HOME,”  on the GPS, gets dizzy from recalculating, falls down and hits his head.  A neighbor called 911. They took him to Emergency, eight stitches and he is still confused.”

“Todd’s not even fifty. His wife is Barbara, I invited them to dinner. What did the doctor say?”

“Stop using the GPS and see his regular doctor in two weeks.  It’s probably his spatial intelligence. There is evidence these GPS systems are effecting everyone’s ability to navigate, not just us Baby Boomers. I’m talking about the Todd and Marilyn Smith on the corner.”

“There’s another Todd on this street? How will they get to the doctor’s office without the use of a GPS?”

“Barbara’s thinking of taking a taxi.”

“You mean Marilyn, right?”

“Whatever.”                                                                                         

                                                   . . . Just saying