Missing in Action: My Furnace

I wake up this fine, chilly, Saturday morning - and I'm freezing! I have frosty toes and a frosty nose - and I'm huddled under the covers shivering, thinking, "What the hell??!!"

Hubby comes in, peels back a blanket or two to find me, (or at least one eyeball - he's always satisfied if he can find at least one eyeball under my mountain of covers) and says, "Guess what?! Our furnace went out last night!"

"It went out?!" I mumbled....through chattering teeth. "Where the hell did it go? Tell it to come back. NOW!" The furnace NEVER asked for permission last night to go out. Nope. Not at all. Because I would have said an emphatic NO. It was very much needed here. At home. Doing its job.

Coincidentally, we were originally supposed to move yesterday from this house to the new house. But because of a few last-minute mechanical issues, the move was delayed until next week. It's very clear that the furnace thought it would have the old house to itself last night and decided to make a break for freedom - and go "out." Obviously, there was a furnace party somewhere - and now my furnace is M.I.A.

Boy, our furnace is in deep doo-doo when it decides to come back today. It is SO grounded.

Sometimes it's tough being a parent. Especially to wayward furnaces.

Peace.

Friday Flashback: Breaking & Entering

Halloween….the time of year when people shell out big bucks to go visit a seasonal “haunted house” where some loser kid jumps out, wielding a chainsaw, and scares the bejeezus out of them. The set has been decorated with care – the make-up has been applied with precision – and everything is carefully choreographed to provide the best scare and terror for the buck.

Posers.

I was lucky enough to have a real, honest-to-goodness haunted house on my campus when I was in school. And not just any haunted house. Epperson House was featured on “Unsolved Mysteries” as one of the top five haunted houses in the country. It had a reputation for being one bad-ass scary place.
One dark (and of course, SPOOKY!) night, a bunch of us got a little too – ahem – inebriated at a party (I know – hard to imagine – getting drunk at a fraternity party. Go figure.) Someone had the stupid brilliant idea of breaking into Epperson House to hunt for ghosts.

With copious amounts of Everclear creating a false bravado amongst ourselves, we staggered walked through the campus streets to Epperson. Once there, we opened up the trap door in the back yard, climbed down a ladder, crawled on our hands and knees through a dark & spider-filled tunnel and eventually made our way up into the house. (What’s so amazing about that is not that we were able to so easily break into a campus building – but the fact that we didn’t break our necks in the process. Seriously.)

Once inside, our ghost hunting began in earnest. We tiptoed and crept through the hallways, our hearts pounding, palms sweating, and adrenaline pumping. Ten minutes into our illicit and illegal adventure –we saw the flashing lights of campus police headed in our direction – and so we scattered.

Did we find any ghosts? I’ll be honest – I was too inebriated to remember much. But – I DO remember being terrified. Was it the house? Or was it the fear of being caught by campus police? I’m not sure – probably a little of both. It was creepy. It was spooky. And it sure scared the hell out of me.

And it was free. ☺

Peace.

Password Purgatory

So I get to work yesterday and I have a total brain fart and I can’t remember my password for my computer. I type in what I think it is – nope. Uh oh. I try it again – surely I made a typo, right? Nope. Not happening. Panic starts to set in – this can’t be happening?! How can I not know my password?

Hmmmmm….do you think maybe it’s because the average person now has to remember about two gazillion passwords? Okay – I exaggerate – the actual number, per Wiki Answers, is over 80. But still – eighty passwords for a Middle Aged Drama Queen is about 79 too many.

I used to write my passwords and PIN numbers down. That cost me dearly. Several years ago, my purse was stolen – with my ATM card in it – and written in a black Sharpie on the back of my ATM card? Yup – my PIN number. The cretin who swiped my purse hit the ATM lottery that day. Merry Christmas, Imbecile. (Okay – I know – I’M the imbecile for writing my PIN number on the back of my ATM card. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even the cop who took my report called me stupid.)

Fortunately for me, all it took yesterday was a few deep breaths and an impassioned plea to the Password Gods and my brain fart passed. But one of these days, I’m going to totally lose all functioning brain cells and nothing’s going to bring those 80+ passwords back.

When that does, my name will change from Drama Queen to Meltdown Queen. It will not be pretty.

Peace.

I'm Sure It's Just Gas

Why are some people (okay – namely, me) – who are obviously very sick – or in a lot of pain - unable to seek medical assistance?

I do not like doctors. Or hospitals. Or anything related to the medical field. Which is rather ironic, considering I worked at a hospital for twenty years. But hey – the money and the benefits were good, and I liked my job. I just didn’t like all that “medical thingy stuff” that got in the way every now and then.

Flashback: Twenty Years Ago

I was pregnant, and two weeks overdue with my first son when I began having severe stomach pains after dinner. “I’m sure it’s just gas,” I said to hubby. “I’ll be all right.” At midnight, I reluctantly agreed to head to the hospital…arriving just mere minutes before my son decided to make his entrance into the world. I was blaming the spaghetti I’d had for dinner. Guess it wasn’t to blame after all.

Flashback: Ten Years Ago

I was 9 months pregnant with my daughter when – you guessed it - those severe stomach pains started up – and again – I tell hubby, “I’m sure it’s just gas. I’ll be all right.” Darn if he didn’t pack me up in the car and drive straight to the hospital – where my daughter decided to make HER entrance into the world a little bit later. And here I thought it was the Taco Bell I had for lunch. Guess not.

Several years ago, I again began having severe stomach pains. I wasn’t pregnant – so I was pretty safe in assuming that another child would NOT be making their entrance into the world that night on MY behalf. After two days of weakly assuring hubby that, “It’s just gas – I’ll be all right” – a forced visit to the hospital revealed acute appendicitis. Huh. Go figure. And here I thought it was my Chipotle burrito. Oops.

While in Yellowstone a few years ago, I hopped off my snowmobile and immediately hit the pavement, thanks to some invisible black ice. Despite the blinding pain in my arm, I shakily said to hubby, “It’s okay – I’m all right.” Only the unarguable sight of my arm bending in a wacky S-curve convinced me that a trip to the local hospital was in order. Broken in three places, and I got a nice hot pink cast and lots of painful physical therapy. Guess it wasn’t all right.

Why is it so hard for some of us to call a doctor? Or to seek help? Is it because some of us are wired to only give assistance and we have difficulty receiving it? We give and give and give – but don’t feel comfortable being on the receiving end. It’s an interesting conundrum and I have to believe that I’m not the only one out here in the blogging world that’s like this.

I’m only writing about this now because I have a headache that would bring a 900-pound Kodiak bear to his knees. And pressure – intense, painful pressure in my ears. And I’ve had it for several days now. And am I going to call a doctor? Or seek medical help? Nope. Not at all. It’s okay. I’ll be all right.

I’m sure it’s just gas.

Peace.

10 on Tuesday: When I Need a Good Scare

Halloween is fast approaching, and so ‘tis the season to watch those spooky, scary, suspenseful movies….I am really not a fan of this genre – I’ll take a nice, silly comedy any day – but in honor of Halloween, here’s a list of what I could watch if I wanted a good scare:

1. Halloween
Bad guys are supposed to die at the end of movies - everyone knows that – and yet…Michael Myers lived. Yikes.

2. Invasion of the Body Snatchers
This was on cable a few months ago – and I found myself drawn into the story of the doctor who realizes his town is getting taken over by aliens. I found myself shouting at the screen, “Run! Run! They’re coming!” Like he could hear me.

3. The Fly
I can’t get the image of Jeff Goldblum out of my head – which is scary enough by itself – but as a fly? Even worse.

4. When A Stranger Calls
Carol Kane as the babysitter – being terrorized by someone IN THE HOUSE! Truly a babysitter’s nightmare…well, other than the kids she’s babysitting.

5. Deliverance
Such happy, innocuous banjo music for such a terror-filled movie of campers being terrorized by hideous hillbillies. What a twisted movie.

6. Fargo
Speaking of twisted – the Coen brothers….need I say more? Fargo opens with the following text: “This is a true story.” I’m gullible – I believed it – and I freaked out. Silly Coens. Not funny, dudes.

7. Rosemary’s Baby
A mixture of rape by Satan (that can’t be good), uncaring doctors, nosy neighbors, and the pregnant woman who wonders if she’s going crazy – leading to one freaky flick.

8. Psycho
I’m a big Alfred Hitchcock fan, and I (being a Psych major) LOVED the Freudian element running through this creepy classic.

9. Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte
Funny story about this movie…I was seven years old; mom was out; and dad was watching this movie on TV instead of watching us kids. I watched, as well – and when the head came rolling down the stairs? It's an image I've never forgotten. Dad was in the doghouse for a long time over this little babysitting faux pas.

10. The Wizard of Oz
You read that right. Houses spinning around because of tornadoes? Flying monkeys? Wicked witches? Evil, mean trees in a dark, spooky forest? And this is considered a CHILDREN’S movie??! Yeah, right. I hate this movie. I really do.

That’s my list – movies that have gone "Boo!" and scared me to death at some time or other. What are YOUR movies that scare you?

Peace.