Good morning...

...sorry to be so rare yesterday. I had to go to the hospital....no biggie, just a few more tests. I don't really enjoy those, but they aren't so bad. It could certainly be a lot worse.

I watched a movie the other day called White Noise. It really freaked me out. I've since heard that it received mixed reviews and I understand why, it was a little tough to follow but mostly because of the viewers' own conclusions, you keep trying to figure out who the bad guys are...Well, I don't want to give much away, but it was worth watching and it did freak me out to the point where I closed my blinds and every door in the house so the ghost couldn't just walk through them. Yeah, that makes sense, doesn't it? It's one of those freaky movies that actually has to do with televisions so when my TV went off halfway through the movie for no apparent reason, I naturally assumed my mother was reaching out to me from the grave. I wonder why ghosts, even the ghost of your very own mother...would freak anyone out? I'd like to speak to my mom, I miss her something awful. But, if she suddenly appeared in my kitchen, I'd have to scream and run away.

Some people are still lucky enough to have their mothers, I envy you. I see children who are so cruel to their mothers that you would think that they thought they would get another one after theirs dies. No parent is perfect and neither were mine. But, I learned something a very long time ago. That is, that on any given day of your parents' life, he or she did the best that they could with the tools that they had. They certainly don't hurt their children on purpose, it's just that they are human and at times, they aren't the perfect creatures that we expect them to be. My mother did things that made me so angry that I actually "hated" her at the time. But, thank God, I never stayed very angry at her for very long. If I had known how little time I would have with her, I wouldn't have wasted the time that I did.

My mom and I had a rocky relationship for most of our lives. I could list all sorts of things that she did to hurt me...but I forgave her years ago, when I saw her for what she was, a frightened woman who didn't know how to handle the roadblocks that life had sent her way. And, what good would it do to list the things that we did to each other? In the whole scheme of things, none of it was so bad that we ignored the one fact that made the rest of it insignificant. We were mother and child...and for good or bad, that is a love that is worth more than any other.

Family is so important, they will be there for your entire life, forgiving, celebrating, arguing, loving and eventually mourning. There is no other relationship in the world that will outlast that of a family...Especially mother and child. But when we do things that hurt each other, we take it out harder on each other than we would anyone else who had done the same thing. I guess it's because we expect so much more from them, but remember? They are only human.

The last time I saw my mother, she was sick in her bed. I was trying to help her and she said something so nasty, something that only a mother could say, who else knows what buttons to push so easily? I, another imperfect human, responded with my own sharp tongue. That little exchange was dismissed immediately and we enjoyed the rest of our visit.

Unfortunately, the words had, indeed, been spoken and I will have to live with the guilt of what I said for the rest of my life. It is my single greatest regret.

I live a little easier knowing that my mother did love me, and that she forgave me immediately. When our kids hurt us, we hurt more for them than for ourselves. We know that they will someday live to regret the things that they said and that hurts us more than what they said in the first place. That's the same reason that so many of us don't disrespect our kids' other parent, we know that they will remember what we said long after the other parent is gone. Why a parent would steal the love and respect that a child has for it's other parent is beyond me. The harm that these things do is immeasurable.

Parents who try to destroy, harm, block or even meddle with, the relationship that their child has with the other parent are parents of the most selfish nature. In exchange for petty behavior and perceived "victories" along life's way, they will take a chance that their child will have to, someday, stand at the casket of the parent that was stolen, demeaned, disrespected, arrested with no good cause, harassed and despised...and wonder how they let it all happen. They will live with guilt and/or anger for the rest of their lives. And the anger WILL NOT be at the parent who is dead...if anything, they will become more idolized in the eyes of the child. Rather, the anger will be directed at those who tried to destroy the lost parent on a daily basis, or worse yet, at the child himself.

The child (whether he is 14 or 40) will live with a feeling that will hurt far worse than any perceived pain inflicted upon the deceased parent. So, weighing the pain scales, far too many people choose the immediate gratification of belittling the person with whom they created a life...and that life is not as important to them as is the current opportunity to trash the relationship that every child deserves.

I have watched far too many women accusing the father's of their children with the most despicable acts, things that just fly out of their mouths at the appropriate times. And men, once they marry another woman, turn on their family like everyone involved had changed from the people that they known and loved at one time. Far too many new spouses manipulate entire families and they are allowed to do it! That's what I find the most difficult to believe...how could a loving father all of a sudden change their view as regards their children? Because of some other woman, who, chances are, won't be around forever?

Being the humans that we are, we all fail at times as parents. But there are some things that we can easily avoid. We can avoid destroying the relationship that our child shares with it's other parent. We can avoid the urge to speak ill and remind our kids to be good to their mother or father no matter what. And we do that out of the love that we have for our children and for our desire to see them grow up to live happy, grudgefree, guiltfree lives.

As bad as a parent can be, barring physical abuse, if they are still alive, you have more than you could ever know. They've always been there, so you have no reason to believe that they won't always be there. But, die they do. And if they do so while you are angry at them or estranged from them, you may very well feel justified. But if you never get the chance to make amends, sooner or later the regret and guilt that you live with for the rest of your life will be so much worse than the anger that you feel today. That's what makes a parent hurt when their child is spiteful to them, the knowledge that they will someday live to wish that they had never been so full of anger and self-righteousness.

Oh well, whatever. I'm done with that for today. We got very little of that storm, not even a downed branch which is lucky because I have quite a few large, half dead trees out there. If you want them, come and get them.

See ya,

Meg

OK, my buddy came over yesterday...

...you know, the one who never shows the least bit of affection? This is a guy who wanted to go out with me a few years ago but I was married and couldn’t Then, last summer he stopped by and asked how my marriage was going and I told him that we were “working on it” because Rick didn’t want me to see anyone else while he was banging Gail and Robyn. So, now Rick is gone and my friend can call me whenever he wants to, he can come over anytime and he can even plant a big kiss on my cheek...but he just comes over and hangs out as though I was his sister. OK, I give, I have another brother. I can just wait for the cute guy to call again, he’s much easier to figure out.

The hurricane is coming on land right now, we have gotten clouds from it but nothing else yet. I prefer a blizzard to this crap any day. I watched the news for a little while but I became bored watching idiots standing in the path of the hurricane telling us how dangerous it is. One guy stood out in a parking lot, rain cutting into his face and wind blowing him over, and he actually said, “I spoke to a few of the more stubborn residents...” and told a story about some guy who had no intention of leaving his dogs. Well, at least the dog dude won’t have his death on television, standing there in the rain one minute, shooting through the sky the next.

Why can’t these people take their dogs? They always talk about the pets that are left behind...why do they all leave the animals behind? I would always take my dog and cat...the fish would be a challenge, but the mammals could come with me. Hell, I’d rather have a big dog next to me than a pile of clothing in that situation. I don’t even lock the car door when the dog is in it, only a true idiot would approach a car with a very large dog in it. Not that my dog would do anything, he might bark, but I don’t know what he’d do if that didn’t work. I don’t think he knows either.

Anyway, I can’t think of much that I wouldn’t leave behind in exchange for my pets, so it can’t be for space, can it? Is there a law against taking your pets with you? Why are all of these animals left behind like that?

Wouldn’t that suck? How would you like to be a dog and watch the entire family evacuate quickly and then leave you behind? Then, when the storm starts, you figure it out...”Oh, THAT'S what they were worried about!” Poor doggys. I don’t know why they all get left behind.

I lost a cat to the clothes dryer once, I didn’t do it, I was in bed and awoken with the news...but when I got this cat, I tossed him in the dryer and spun him around a few times. Not enough to hurt him, just enough to scare the hell out of him. He has never, in 5 years, gone into that dryer.

And, I haven’t had to put him in there again either, he got the message the first time. He never goes outside, even if the door was open, he wouldn’t leave. He’s only left the house twice, once he returned with no fingernails and the next time he returned with no balls. He doesn’t know the reason or why there is a connection between leaving the house and losing body parts, but he does seem to learn quickly and stays in the house at all times. He does like to look outside, the window is sort of his TV. I think he understands his TV more than he does mine. He walks around my TV trying to see where the people are. He’s even gone looking in the closet on the other side of the wall trying to figure out the TV. I don’t know what he thinks about the cats on his TV, he must think that they are like Charles Bronson or Harrison Ford...just crazy animals out there doing things that he would never do.

I bet he would hate to see a flood coming up to the house. We don’t live near a river but I bet it could happen. Enough rain would flood anything and I would hate to think of my cat looking out the window, wondering why the water is all over. Oh, that gives me an idea...see ya.

meg

When you’re a very, very good girl...

....you wake up early on Sunday mornings. On Sunday mornings there is nothing on television. On this particular Sunday, there isn’t even the usual political crap because there is either a gigantic hurricane of catastrophic proportions bearing down on New Orleans or the news people are hyping it all up for nothing. It’s kinda hard to tell with those guys but some people seem to think it could be pretty bad Of course, they don’t tend to put the nay Sayers on television, do they? If your advice is one of calm and reason, chances are you won’t be interviewed by the major news outlets.

There is one new guy covering this hurricane, I don't know who he is but he is rather young. I saw him on FoxNews this morning and his hair is kind of wild and already looks like the huricane has hit his head. I noticed that he had sideburns too, Elvis like sideburns. Apparently, the youngest of the veiwers are having their influence.

It appears as thought the only effect the hurricane will have on me is a bunch of rain that the dog will track in because he has to go outside occasionally and I hate that. But he is used to sitting on a towel and letting me wipe his big stupid feet off so that’s not too bad. After I assessed that situation and made the necessary preparations, (I fed the dog and let him out.) I flipped channels and thought I had found a comedian. I was thinking how nice and clean he was when all of a sudden, he made a God joke and I realized that he was a comedian for Christ and you can buy his tapes so that you can “connect” with his ass. At first I pondered about the fact that my tastes had degraded to such a point...but it’s Sunday morning so I cut myself some slack. At least I’m awake and moving about. I could be hung over and sick until tomorrow morning. But anyway, I listened to the commercials for the tapes and I was a little surprised.

Then, I considered who the audience was that they were talking to and I figured that they had been desensitized to the crass nature of those Salvation for a Price preachers. It also occurred to me that if a person had a little bit of a brain and a huge lack of morals, there would be a lot of money to be made out there. No wonder there are so many of these guys going to prison, organized religion is about as money corrupted as is politics. I could get annoyed about that but I’m not in the mood.

I woke up this morning and there was a mess in the kitchen that I didn’t make. After doing a forensic examination of the scene, I figured out that my son must have come by, watched television in the living room, cooked himself some food and used the cpmuter in the kitchen and did it all with a few feet of me and never woke me up one little bit. That’s a freaky feeling, isn’t it? People can conduct the activities of daily living all around me and I am totally asleep.

Well, I’d like to have some fun today...I bet people are doing that some where...I’d like to do something fun too. I’ll take any ideas that you may have but you have to let me know in time to do it today...Sunday. My left hand middle finger is swollen and hurts when I bend it...I will have to ask my son what, if anything, he knows about that. You would think that I would remember doing something that could cause so much pain.

Well, I can always go to the Battlefield, that’s pretty cool with the dog...I meet a bunch of people walking around that thing. But that dog can take me down with one good lunge so I am a little nervous about taking him out too far into nature. The other day I had the dog in the car when I went to PetSmart and I saw a sign that said, “Why leave him in the car? Bring your leashed pet inside!” So...I did. And he crapped on the floor. I don’t know why, he doesn’t usually do such things but he was acting a bit nervous the whole time we were in the store. Of course, he could have just been trying to tell me that he had to go outside. Anyway, I won’t be taking him back to PetSmart. He is a huge dog so everybody would remember him and his mess.

Anyway, I’m going to do something else, I don’t know what...but I will think of something.

See ya,

Meg

she screwed neighbors of mine...

...mental sanity is not easy, so I wish you luck and hope you find a man that will make you forget about that bastard - who didn't have the balls to be up front with you.

Yep, that’s what it boils down to, balls and honesty. You know, the worst thing he did is to go out of his way to tell me that he wanted me to be faithful to him while he was cheating. I asked him if I was free to see other men and he freaked. “How could you even ask that?”, he would shout back at me. Oh well.

And about finding a new guy, you know, whoever he is, he’s cheating on me already. Yep. Chances are that the next guy who I have a serious relationship with is with another woman as I write this. Some woman is with my next man and there isn’t a thing that I can do about it.

I am really annoyed when I think of some of the decent guys that I could have been with. Decent, cute, fun, whatever...I passed on a lot of opportunities because of that nimrod. As much as that annoys me, there is one other thing that I truly hate him for.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to extricate yourself from a perfectly good romantic situation for no really good reason? Most of the time it’s not too tough, for one reason or another the, “I’m still married.” crap is the reason I give. Actually, women have to have a really good reason. Some men will argue with you when you say “no”, (not in an arrest warrant sort of way, but more in a, “Come on, I’ll split the profits with you.” type manner.) so you have to have a pretty good back up so I have the still married thing.

But, every so often, it doesn’t seem like a very good reason and the longer I go, the harder that gets. And what makes it worse is that you don’t see those things coming so you haven’t prepared any natural barriers like being on neutral territory and having two vehicles to worry about.

Luckily, the state of my bedroom is, at this time, a natural barrier. I never sleep in there but every month or so, I wash the sheets for general purposes. Then I throw all my clothes back on the bed and the only time I sit on the thing is when I put on my socks. To even consider using my room for anything other than dressing would take a two day notice and that, I did not have. Even if I was willing to use the kitchen counter, I have a problem doing something that risque the first time I make love to a man.

First times are pretty much a bed type of affair, don’t you think? If you’re having sex for the first time in a parking lot, chances are there’s not a really solid future in that relationship. You can tell a lot about a relationship by the circumstances of the first time. If your first time was a totally “must lie” situation, you won’t be surrounded by honesty thereafter. If you’ve not lied to anyone and totally planned the occasion, you can expect to have a much, much, nicer relationship.

Anyway, I got a couple of snails and after a few days of sucking around the aquarium, they have found each other. These are my first snails. I was told that they would do the job of the algae eater but they don’t seem to be working very well. I better not find out that their little tryst has produced an entirely new problem. I imagine it's easier to find a home for one huge algae eater than it is a bunch of baby snails. I will let you know what comes of life in the big box of water later.

Meg

Well, "Meg", you might ask....

..."Just how long was Rick supposed to stay with you?"

Well, let me put it this way: If you asked me where I saw myself in about a hundred years, my answer would have been something like this:

Yes, I actually foresaw a time when we would spend eternity near each other rotting in our graves. Isn't that romantic? You don't often find someone with whom you are prepared to rot. Alas.

Well, I guess I'll have to rot alone. Do you ever wonder about graves and what's in them? I do. I've been to some pretty cool cemeteries. I went to Arlington of course and Gettysburg and they have one here in Marietta that was started in the Civil War.

Last week I found one in Roswell that had people from the early 1800's. It was pretty cool.

Once when I was a kid, 14 I think, I was playing in an old cemetery down the street from my house. I lived on Church Road, named after the ten churches on the two mile road, some of them were old German churches that had old cemeteries full of the early settlers of the town, Bensenville.

Scary places for sure, and we had to go to them on Halloween. 14 year old girls like to scare each other. I had one friend that loved to be scared so I scared her, and I was pretty creative. Later I found out that she went into a psychiatric hospital and that I hadn't helped matters one bit. Who knew? I just thought she was a normal 14 year old. But, I guess normal is relative.

So, she was in the cemetery that night when I laid down in a grave with a huge oak leaf in my hands, clasped over my chest. One of my friends screamed and pointed at the headstone above me and then they all did the same. I jumped up and saw the name "Margaret" on the headstone. Nothing else, just the name, "Margaret". Of course, we ran home screaming. We did a lot of that.

Don't you think we should come uo with a better idea than cemeteries? I think at the very least we should just have big gardens of flowers that grow well with people dirt. Then, you could just keep adding a bunch more people as the years went by. If your husband was a drunk, you could pick a flower that grows well in the presence of alcohol.

I don't like the thought that cemeteries are only kept nice for a relatively short time before they fall into disrepair. I saw a few headstones in a corner formed by fences at an entrance ramp to a highway. These people were rarely even noticed by the thousands of commuters that drove past them in the course of a day. The rest of the cemetery had obviously been purchased and moved...I imagined one family that wouldn't give in and left their parents in traffic.

Anyway, I would rather be a garden, wouldn't you? Things change pretty fast, especially if you hang around long enough and see enough places. The house that my great-grandfather grew up in back in the days of blacksmiths and horses, was now on a large corner at a very busy intersection in Roanoke, Virginia. The house had enough land in front of it to end up at that large intersection. My great grandfather, Papaw, as we called him, had been a blacksmith at one time. Imagine his surprise when they invented cars. He didn't form a union and bitch, he became a carpenter instead.

I was lucky enough to know a few of my great grandparents and they never got divorces. But, my great grandmother, widowed by her first husband, had always been married to Grandpa Frank as far as I knew.

But when Granny died and her funeral card (whatever they call those things) had a different name than Frank's and I had always known her to use his name. I mentioned it to my mother who told me that, for tax purposes or social security, I forget, they couldn't afford to get married. They were just a couple of old people who lived together, back in the 60's when most old people were whining about the numbers of people who lived together in sin. I asked my mom, "So, they were living in sin?" And she responded, "Well...I don't know how much "sin" they were capable of, but yeah, I guess they were."

Mom had to answer in a way that neither made her grandmother look bad nor did it make living together look good. I guess she did alright. I was pretty much afraid of her until I realized that I had 6 inches on her and could have snapped her like a twig. I think she and I both realized it at the same time. She was yelling at me and came so close to me that the height difference was exaggerated. I backed up onto one step of the flight of stairs that led to my bedroom and the difference was exaggerated even more. We were eye to eye and I was pretty sure that we were on the same page. But...I knew better than to push it and to be honest, when she lost it, she was pretty frightening. She chased me through a bowling alley one night and I made the mistake of running into the Girl's Room. She cornered me there and somehow refrained from doing a Rodney King on me...just long enough to get me home anyway.

When she got me home that night, in the privacy of the living room save the only witnesses, younger siblings. I was to be a made an example of so they weren't about to talk. Then, she sent me upstairs to my father and he got a go at me too. I remember thinking that it was dreadfully unfair to be spanked twice for the same offense. How much worse could it get? I might as well have robbed a bank, kids didn't get arrested back then. The cops just took you home where your parents beat the crap out of you. No muss, no fuss.

Well, I'm gonna go act like it's daylight, see ya.

Meg

OK, I’m back...

....I had a lovely evening and I will surely fall asleep with a smile upon my face. This time I won’t forget to get on the couch before I do fall asleep.

My friend just left and we had a lovely time. When he got here I was still making dinner so I gave him a glass of tea and he kept me company while I finished cooking. I made chicken quesadilla’s, Spanish rice and refried beans. I also made some pico de gaillo which, after cooking for Rick, was taking a chance. This guy not only had to like onions, but he had to like green peppers and tomatoes as well. Anyway, he was normal and everything was fine.

After we ate, we watched Fargo, he hadn’t seen it in a while and although I had, I didn’t mind because it’s a good movie. By the end of the movie we were into some pretty comfortable cuddling. You can tell you’re cuddling properly when you can perceive the change in each others’ breathing. That’s always a sign of good things to come, isn’t it? OK, that was fun.

So, after the movie, I walked across the room to take the DVD out of the player and when I came back to the couch, well, let’s just say that he didn’t make me wait long at all. I had lip lock before my ass hit the couch. Yada, yada, yada...he went home and I let the dog back in.

I wish someone would invent a thing that would record your experiences on a chip or something and then you could replay them. Tonight would be a night that I would rewind and watch again over and over again. I’m sitting here again staring at the keyboard with nothing to write. I was thinking about something but I wasn’t going to write it and then I thought, oh...what the hell. So, anyway, when I said that I had the refried beans with dinner I almost added, “Luckily, nobody farted.” Bit I didn’t say that because I didn’t want to break the mood. But it’s broken now so I’ll just tell you a fart story.

I actually considered not telling you this particular fart story because I am the farter in it and I don’t admit to farting often. When I do, I try to do so when I feel that I have more to gain that I do to lose in the fart disclosure.

Back when Rick and I were dating, he was quite a bit larger than me and for some reason, I thought that I would show my strength and lift him up. Now, I was out on a date and having a good time, anal control was my last concern.

So, when I hoisted the man, I let loose an utterly unexpected little fart, one of those farts that are just loud enough that you can't even delude yourself into thinking went unheard. Naturally, I put him back down. He immediately left the area. Now, I swear, this fart did NOT stink. I swear, I’m not just saying that, it really, really didn’t smell bad. But, even if it HAD stunk, he should have stayed with me. I should have known then that he wouldn’t be standing by me when things would become grueling.

Anyway, don’t you hate when you’re sitting on a chair and a phony fart sound comes out? You didn’t really fart, but to the others in the room, it could go either way. You try to recreate the fart noise but you can’t. You just hope that they all knew that it was the chair and by now it’s been awhile because you’ve been trying to make the noise again and you’ve been analyzing whether or not anybody else heard it at all and by the time you do ask, you would have to say...”Hey, remember that fart sound before? You knew it wasn’t a real fart, it was the chair. You knew that...right?” That’s no good. I should be careful about fart chat, the last time I did it, my dog had an attack of Alpo-stinkitis.

In all the space movies, they never find a planet with gravity light enough to where a good enough fart would propel the space dudes through the air. You would think that it would make perfect scientific sense. Those “transportation” farts wouldn’t even have to stink. Say they don’t have any bacteria...there’s nothing to make it stink. I could see that.

I have the 70’s music channel on and right now, they are playing John Travolta’s single, remember that? It was called Gonna Let Her In.

Haven’t heard that in a long time.

OK, I think I could easily fall asleep right now so I should head for the couch. Have a good day!

See ya,

Meg

Hi there!

I’m still a little fuzzy because I haven’t been up for very long. I was watching movies half the night and fell asleep in the recliner again which mean that I can only turn my head in one direction. When I sleep in the chair like that, my head falls to one side and I wake up with a dreadful neckache. I don’t even remember getting tired or falling asleep...I'm watching a movie one minute and I wake up with a stiff neck the next.

I don’t actually watch the movies, I rarely pay attention to what’s on TV. I do stare at it, but I have no idea of what’s going on. If someone else is there, they assume that I’m watching it which is good because it shuts them up. There is one guy I know that doesn’t shut up when I stare at the TV...that’s so annoying isn’t it? Two or more people agree to watch a movie and then one of them talks throughout the entire thing. I can stare at the TV, mindlessly nodding my head up and down and they just keep yakking away as though I’m hanging onto every word that they say. I am not good enough to respond appropriately any further than that, although sometimes I try.

Rick was very good at responding appropriately to whatever I was saying when I spoke to him without actually listening to what I was saying. He would grunt, snort or giggle at all the right times but he didn’t have a clue as to what I was talking about. It took awhile for me to figure that out. At some point, I realized that if what I said required more than a guttural response, he was dumbfounded.I started testing him at some point.

When I would suspect that he was doing the male version of “faking it”, I would ask him what I had just said. He could never tell me. I pointed his behavior out to him and he just snorted in acknowledgement that I had spoken.

Anyway, I’ve gotten good at watching TV without paying any attention to it. Last night I decided that I would not pay attention to Scarface, Stir of Echoes and Fargo. They were all DVD’s that I’ve had for a while so I know what they are all about. If ever I do pay the slightest bit of attention to the movies, I know what’s going on. But then, my mind wanders again and before you know it, I’m interviewing myself.

Have you ever done that? I’ve been interviewing myself for quite a while now. Actually, I’ve gotten very good at it. I’ve been thinking about trying out for Be Jerry Springer for a Day...you get to host the Jerry Springer Show. After all the years I’ve spent interviewing me, I think that I could do a pretty good job with a bunch of Rick’s and Rickette’s...don’t you?

In addition to being such a good interviewer, I’m a fascinating subject to BE interviewed. I’m quick witted, pleasant and, I must say, one all around charming individual. I show an interest in my interviewer without being the least bit superfluous. I actually enjoy my company, which is good, I’m usually all I’ve got. If I miss Rick, I just throw a pillow on the couch and look at the TV, that’s pretty much what is was like with him around...only better...the pillow doesn't fart into my couch like he did. Imagine sleeping on the couch, knowing that your head could be in the middle of a Rick fart. I put a sheet over the thing but I still find myself contemplating the half lives of fart molecules.

I have someone coming over for dinner tonight. We may or may not watch a movie but I know one thing for sure...I’d rather spend the evening on the couch, making out like a couple of banshees. This is the guy that I’ve known for a while and having been dating occasionally since last fall. I don’t see him very often, but his pretty self is always good for a nice romp on the couch. If there is any one guy that has the best shot at being with me on my divorce night, it’s him.

He would be the perfect choice, 30 something but he looks younger, tall (6’4” without being too skinny, hard to pull off.) AND extremely handsome. Well, he’s not as handsome as he is cute as a button...the ladies know what I mean. Oh...he has a large head of hair. Although I usually don’t like long hair on a man, this guy has the perfect length for his wavy hair. I could go on about the hair, but I don’t want to lose the bald guys out there.

I have no problem with bald men, Rick is bald and was bald when I met him. We were only 24 and he was already as bad as a doorknob. So, I won’t count you out for being bald...but damn it, I like to put my hands through a nice head of hair every so often. I believe that I shall do just that tonight.

Yep, I am not going to spend the evening confused like I do with that guy I told you about that barely goes past a handshake. I haven’t figured him out but the one who’s coming over tonight is the type that I wouldn’t have to worry about. If he didn’t make a move soon enough, I would feel perfectly comfortable doing it myself. Some guys make you feel like you can do that and some of them don’t.

Perhaps the difference is in the affect of the man, if he is a happier, more relaxed kind of guy, I feel as though he is pretty much game for anything and I feel more relaxed. Some men make you feel like you can be yourself and some men make you feel like you have to behave in a certain manner. It isn’t as though you are pretending to be something that you’re not, it’s just that you have to actively consider everything that you do or say before you do or say it. When I feel like that, I can’t be very natural and I like guys who make me feel like I can just be myself.

Myself is a woman who would have no qualms about saying to Mr. Tonight, “Won’t you lay me down in the tall grass and let me do my stuff.” That’s why it’s so annoying to be in this position. I missed a few really good opportunities because Rick expected me to be faithful, what with all that marriage and fidelity crap. Anyway, on September 9th it will be a year and now I’m going without so that I can say it’s been a year that I've gone without. At this point it’s pretty much a challenge and I’m almost there. In about 2 weeks it will have been a year.

During my IBM (in between marriages) years, I once went for 6 months without and that amazed me. To be able to say that I went without for an entire year is pretty good for me. For the first 6 or 7 years of our marriage, I got it 29 nights out of every month. It was a necessity, I would be a bitch in the morning if I didn’t get any the night before.

Actually, that sort of explains this blog. You’ll know when I start getting some because I will be a much, much nicer person.

Gotta go...see ya.

Meg

meg.kelso@gmail.com

Now that I look closer, he LOOKS evil. (Notice the lack of eye-teeth...his parent's soultion to his fangs. It was cheaper than braces.)

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This is Rick and his bald head. He finally gave up on the sweep-over thing. He used to tell me that his part was naturally behind one ear.

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Don’t you just hate the word...

...Penis? It is a word that just doesn’t sound quite right for the organ itself. I know many people name their penis' (peni?), here is a post that contains names that some of you came up with last spring:

http://diaryofmydivorce.blogspot.com/2005/03/as-i-write-this-it-isnt-yet-8-pm.html

I find it quite odd that so many people have such an intense fascination with the male organ. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a nice penis as much as the next person, but why would anyone actually draw pictures of the thing? For some strange reason a man did just that...AND he posted it on the internet:

Now, why he chose to show the entire world a drawing of his “member”, is beyond me. But what truly perplexes me is why on Earth he felt the need to pencil in his own ruler? Now, perhaps that might be a good idea for some men, but in this guy's case, I think he would have been better off leaving the measurments out of the picture. Many men, and a number of women, I am sure, are concerned with the size of a man's penis. In case you are one of those folks, here is a guide with which you see how your penis “stands up” in relation to others:

http://www.neo-tech.com/penis/

And, should you check out that chart and find that your penis doesn’t quite “measure up”, you can always try:

Enlargel

A transdermal male enhancement gel proven to rapidly accelerate permanent penis enlargement

Apparently, if you take a big handful of this stuff and rub it on your penis...in a rapid up and down fashion, you will see immediate results!!!!

By the way, if you think that your penis is particularly extraordinary, please help out these folk:

We need your penis pictures!

Pictures are of great help to many men. Please submit your pictures today. Just send them via e-mail to rubent2@yahoo.com or upload them yourself at our Yahoo Club.

Of course, some men may prefer to keep a "little" secret, and I certainly understand that. If you are one of them, you have my sympathy and I shan't ask you to disclose anything that you don't want to disclose. But, for those of you who might wonder what these dudes are hiding:

I had a better picture than that before, but I swear to God, I've lost it. I've looked everywhere and I just can't seem to find that little sucker.

When I mentioned the abnormal nature of Rick’s penis, many people suggested that he might be suffering from a disorder called Peyronie’s Syndrome. Being the curious little lady that I am, I started studying this condition. Well, I have found that it was NOT Rick’s problem...his penis didn’t SUDDENLY bend and twist one day, Peyronie's Syndrome attacks a previously normal penis. I certainly didn't do it....it was like that when I met him. He said that he had no idea how his penis became deformed. So, when I learned that there were illnesses that could actually distort a man's penis, I became even more curious than ever. What on Earth could have caused such a hideously freakish penis to pop up? Well, I believe that I have found the answer to that question. Apparently, Rick was suffering from the same condition as this man:

The other day I was masturbating and afterwards when I got soft my penis was softer than usual and since then it bends to one side and I have no sensation on the one side it bends to one side when I get an erection...

Signed,

Bent and confused.

Well, Bent and confused didn’t just sit there, wanger in hand, wondering what the hell was going on. Oh no, he wanted to know what had caused his penis to become warped. So, he sent an email to a doctor who, for some unknown reason, decided to post Bent’s problem on the internet for the entire world to see. I don’t know why...perhaps Bent and the doc had more than a patient-doctor relationship and then Bent betrayed the poor doctor. Of course, this is just a guess, I could be wrong. One way or another, the doctor answered Bent’s question:

It sounds like you caused yourself some trauma while masturbating. You may have what is known as a fractured penis. Usually, the penis will become limp immediately, and you will have some noticeable bruising and swelling, which it sounds like you had.

A fractured penis? I didn't even know that was an option....BUT...it does explain a LOT.

Oh MY!!!!! WARNING....frequent and violent masturbation can cause permanent damage!!!!!!!!!!!! It's too late to prevent Rick's little problem, but please....SAVE YOURSELVES!


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Aren’t we the efficient society?

Over the past 150 years, innovations have made our lives ever so much easier. We have all the conveniences of modern life. No longer do we have to beat our clothing on a washboard to get our clothes clean. We don’t have to start fires in our homes to cook our food. Should we want to travel, we needn’t get up early to feed and saddle the horses. We don’t have to haul water from the nearest stream to the house. We don’t have to grow our own food and we don’t have to sew our own clothing. Our days are now full of free time in which we can amuse ourselves in as many different ways as there are different people. Why is it then, that we don’t have the time to care for our own families?

Our lives have been made so simple that our biggest worry is now how to pay for all of these conveniences. Not very long ago, companies advertised many time-saving products by appealing to over-worked housewives who no longer needed to spend their days “working their fingers to the bone”. They were now free to enter the workforce to help their husbands provide for their families. Household incomes shot up, doubled, or in many cases, more than doubled.

So, we have more time on our hands and more money in our bank accounts. And what have we done with all of that extra income and spare time? Among other things, we have placed our children into day care and our parents into nursing homes. The burden of caring for our children and our elderly have now been outsourced to strangers. When these strangers fail to care for our family in a manner of which we approve, do we bring our loved ones home? Do we care for them ourselves? Of course not, what’s the point of having all of this free time if we have to spend it caring for our own?

When we suspect that our children are being abused, do we quit our jobs and ensure the safety of our children? Why should we? Nanny cams and talk shows are now the solution to such problems. When the people who spent their lives caring for us can no longer care for themselves, do we bring them into our own homes to ensure that their declining years are spent in the bosom of their family? Of course not. We hide whatever money they have left and demand that society provide warehouses in which these frail, helpless beings can be fed, clothed and looked after. If those warehouses fail to provide adequate care, do we bring our loved ones home and care for them ourselves? Not very likely, it’s much easier to sue the facility or call the local news station.

It seems as though the more spare time we have and the more disposable cash that we accrue, the more we dump our responsibilities onto others. We who live in the richest country in the history of man-kind are swiftly becoming the most self-absorbed people ever to walk the planet. Far too many of us find personal responsibility unfair and notions such as accountability unreasonable.

An infant born to a woman unable to care for the infant can easily find someone willing to adopt her baby. But elderly humans aren’t quite as cute. We can’t find a family willing to care for our parents so we place them into buildings full of understaffed and under trained employees who are paid little more than those who prepare our burger at the local fast food restaurant.

Never in the history of the planet has there been a society fortunate enough to have the resources available that we have today. When we plan our monthly budget, we include money for entertainment, multiple vehicles and more clothing than we actually require. We spend thousands on cosmetic surgery, vacations and other useless luxuries.

We schedule time for weekly golf outings, shopping sprees and other pleasurable activities.

But when it comes time to care for the people who made all of that leisure time and extra income possible, we consider it a major imposition.

Many parents nowadays raise their children with the “best” of everything. The best education, the best clothing, the best athletic training. They take pride in teaching 3 year old children how to read. They dress their young daughters up in make up and parade them on stages competing for “Little Miss Perfect Whatever”. Playgrounds that were once places where children could play are now battlefields where parents fight with coaches and each other. Parents schedule time for “Mommy and Me” groups, Tae Kwon Do and soccer games.

Not only don’t these parents have no time to spend with the people who raised them, they don’t even consider it a responsibility, but rather a chore that they avoid at all costs. If their own priorities are so distorted, what sort of life will they have when their “perfect” children are busy tending to their own lives?

Just something to think about.


Send comments to meg.kelso@gmail.com

To the "Fortunate One",

I have thrown away every one of your letters unopened and I delete your emails without reading them. If you would like to continue, go ahead. But you might want to save yourself the stamp money and the time. By the way, did you know that your girlfriend was aware of your "issue" years ago?

See ya,

Meg

I expect certain things from certain people...

...I expect my ex to be a total hypocrite. I expect his wife to eat 3 boxes of Twinkies every day and drink 4 cases of Old Milwaukee every night. I expect Rick Kelso to steal, lie and cheat. I expect men who abuse women to defend Rick Kelso when he is abuses women. I expect Rick Kelso's mother to suck down a fifth of vodka every night. I expected Rick Kelso's oldest son to behave like his father and knock up a married woman. (I must say that although I expected his 19 year old son to knock up some career welfare life form like HIS mother, I never expected it to be an 43 year old albino drug addict with a slew of other children.)

There are many other things that I expect. But...of this I am sure..."men" who cheat on women, abuse them and pass around sexually transmitted diseases...will call the women who catch them doing such things "bitter".

Oh, there is something else of which I am absolutely positive...the attorneys who defend these "men", will also call the women "bitter".

Oddly enough, if the woman being cheated upon happens to be the female spawn of these dredges of humanity, they are not bitter...they are victims worthy of sympathy. Isn't that odd?

A woman who practiced her right to freedom of speech by authoring a blog about her divorce from a slug has been ordered by a judge (you know, one of those people who supposedly defends the constitution) to change the names of the people in her life when she writes about it. The attorney who represents the slug had the unmitigated gall to call the woman "bitter". I assume that the specific definition of "bitter" to which the attorney in question refers is: exhibiting intense animosity.

I wonder how much animosity the attorney and judge in question would exhibit if it were their own daughters, mothers or sisters that had been treated like a disposable diaper that has been shit upon and tossed aside? My guess is that their animosity might be a tad intense. I could be wrong, perhaps that attorney and judge are two parents who despise their family.

Personally, I fully admit to exhibiting intense animosity toward Rick Kelso, Gail Glenn and even the freaky bimbo that Rick Kelso dumped when he left Georgia. And...should any man ever treat my daughter in the way that Rick Kelso treated me or if any wannabe female like Gail Glenn should attempt to get her sleazy paws into my son, I would exhibit some more intense animosity. I doubt that I will have to worry about my children being treated in such a manner, my daughter doesn't drink enough to fall for a Viagra addicted bald man (like the one in the picture that I am about to post) with a miniature, deformed penis that is a recidivist premature ejaculator and my son has far too much class to associate with a bleached blonde piece of trailer trash.

I don't mind admitting to exhibiting intense animosity toward the penis of Rick Kelso of Kalispel Montana even though it was the victim of a hideous gasoline fire. Yes, that penis was attacked by a flaming can of gasoline that was tossed at it early in it's pitiful career. Rick Kelso, the owner of the deformed penis, said that the man who threw the can of flaming gasoline at his crotch was doing so in self defense. But, knowing how harmless and barely perceptible that miniature penis of Rick Kelso is, I now doubt that story. Instead, it is my learned opinion that his fellow marines were simply attempting to kill the crab that was hiding the toy-penis from the view of the doctor who was attempting to take a picture of the smallest penis in U.S.M.C. history.

OK, there is my exhibition of intense animosity for the day. I have just finished speaking to a friend that has a nutty ex. (Imagine that!) The ex is so intent on poisoning the children against them that is is actually working. I have never understood why a parent who professes to love their children would participate in nasty discussions about the other parent. I always told my kids to call their father on the appropriate holidays and I would have never allowed them to speak of him in a disrespectful manner. I care about my children too much to make them feel as though they must speak ill of their father in order to receive my love. Unfortunately, far too many parents are so full of hate and insecurity that they make the children afraid to have a nice relationship with the other parent.

My ex and I got along just fine until he married a teenager. She wouldn't allow her husband to have a respectful relationship with the mother of his children. I waited patiently for her to grow up. Then, I realized that it isn't a matter of immaturity so much as it is a matter of insecurity. She will never "grow up", she is far too insecure to ever stop encouraging my children to be happy and have a healthy relationship with me.

At one point, I had a Mustang. She would tell my children that "only idiots drive Mustangs". I used to watch All My Children. She would tell my kids that "All My Children is a program for idiots". When she learned that I liked Bruce Springsteen, all of a sudden, "Bruce Springsteen fans are stupid". I live my life rarely giving those two a second thought, but in their house, after more than 17 years of marriage, I am still the topic of discussion.

I see that type of behavior so often that it makes me sad for the children. Doesn't ANYONE love thier kids enough to live their lives happily? I guess happiness is relative, for some people happiness is constant berating of the people who used to be in their spouses lives. I once heard someone say that "The absence of love is indifference." I am totally indifferent to my ex. He, on the other hand, continues to tell his children how evil their mother is and he has done so for years, ever since he married an Amazon biker bitch. I haven't seen these people twice in 20 years. They no longer know me at all and yet they still discuss every single little detail of what they perceive to be my life. If I cared at all, I would pity them...but I would rather just go on about my life.

The friend of mine that I was just speaking to was married to a woman who is now remarried. When she did remarry, she told her new husband that neither one of them will ever have a relationship with their ex's, even though a decent relationship would be best for all of the children involved. Her nit wit of a husband actually agreed to that! When my son and his the mother of his daughter broke up, I said to them, "Now it's time to see who loves that little girl enough to treat the other with decency."

It's so sad that so many parents are too selfish to treat the other parent decently. Of course, there are also many people who are just crisis oriented, if there is nothing miserable happening in their life, they will create a crisis to ensure that they have something to do. Of course, it would be nice if they would try to make a happy life for themselves, but if that were possible, there wouldn't be a problem in the first place.

I have a question to ask for a puter-pal of mine. Is there anyone out there who has any expereince with divorce blogs and the court system? I know that anyone can write whatever they want and as long as it is the truth, they have nothing to fear. But, a divorce judge can order a person to stop writing a blog and the writer has to oblige, at least until the divorce is final. Has anyone out there ever been ordered by a judge to stop a blog or to change the names on one? If so, let me know so I can tell my friend. I won't post your answer if you would prefer to remain annonymous, I'll just email your answer to my friend.

Well, I am tired and I should go to sleep now. OH! By the way, I have made a few phone calls regarding the nursing home situation and I will wait for a couple of days for the return calls before I do anything. If I get a satisfactory answer from anyone, I will let them try to fix the situation, if not, I will come up with something on my own. I am currently writing a very long account of some of the things that I saw the other day and I am also including things that I have seen in the past. As soon as something productive happens regarding this, I will let you know.

See ya,

Meggers

WARNING:

It appears as though my ex-husband wants me to post pictures of his wife on this blog. And to decent people everywhere, don't worry, I will warn everyone with this red font before I show them...there's no reason to cover every computer in the world with puke.

Meg,

Your post on the elderly broke my heart....I know little bits of what you write, I go to visit a 95 year old lady, and have to hold my nose at the smell, then have to go find her cause no one, even the charge nurse, knows where she is! Along the way are the lonely...."do I know you?"...."can you talk to me?".....I leave in tears...

This man and the many others who have written to me about the conditions of far too many nursing homes have truly invigorated my drive to do something about the situation. I am a firm believer in the notion that we can truly make a difference if we set our minds to something. My first step in this endeavor was writing about the situation on my blog. When I wake up, I am going to begin making life miserable for those who take money in exchange for mistreating the helpless people who sit in wheelchair's along the walls of nursing homes begging for help or just a little bit of attention. From the corporations that "manage" these hell holes with money from Medicaid and Medicare to the slugs that take a paycheck for mistreating and/or neglecting our elderly, I am about to get medieval on them all.

On a lighter note, I just came into my house from a lovely evening. I say "came into my house" as opposed to "got home" because for the past three hours, I've been sitting in my driveway in a Saab convertible chatting with a very nice man. So, technically, I came home quite a while ago...but I just now got IN my house.

We began the evening at 8 PM. We went to a place called Mazzi's and had a very nice dinner. There, we had a pleasant conversation that lasted for over two hours. Then, he drove me home and we pulled into my driveway, still chatting away. About an hour after we started talking, we went to the convenience store around the corner for a couple of bottles of soda and then we went back to my driveway and continued our conversation. Before we knew it, it was 3 AM. We spoke a little bit longer before he walked me to my door (he said that if he didn't walk me to my door, his mother would smack him) and he kissed me goodbye. I don't remember the last time that I was kissed at my doorstep after a date! We made plans to see each other again and sthen we said our goodbyes.

To tell you the truth, I really didn't expect much this evening. I had no reason to, I haven't met such a nice guy in a very long time. But, I was pleasantly surprised and I am as giddy as a school girl. When I realized that my divorce was taking longer than I had expected, I sort of stopped bothering much with dates. But, you never know when this sort of thing will happen and I'm as tickled as I can be. Rick isn't what you would call a bright man and he is incapable of participating in a conversation that requires an IQ in the triple digits so I don't remember the last time that I had such a long, pleasant chat with a man. Of course, I went out with a few nice guys last spring, but none of them left me with this feeling. It's the kind of feeling that tells me that when I finally do go and lay my head down this MORNING (!), I will enjoy thinking of our date and will surely fall asleep with a smile on my face.

During our conversation, he mentioned that he loves to cook so we decided to get a movie and cook dinner here one night this week. We didn't decide on an evening yet but I hope it's tonight! Of course, tonight is Monday night even though I haven't gone to bed yet from Sunday night. I will refer to him here as Cutie-pie until he gives me permission to use his name. He has never read this blog although I did mention it to him and when he comes over for our cooking date, I will explain the nature of it before I show it to him.

Anyway, Cutie-pie and I sat in his convertible for hours looking at the sky and talking about everything under the sun...or should I say under the moon? He told me about his kids, his mother, his entire family. We seem to have so much in common, he even lived in Chicago for 15 years. We listened to all kinds of music, but mostly jazz. He is younger than I am, but not by decades this time, just a year. Even though we are so close in age, his kids are much younger than mine. He is the deacon at his church and he conducts the Youth Group at church so I had to wait for him to finish with that before we went out. He is invloved in an organization that is trying to change the way that the Georgia courts dictate child support. I don't know much about it but the web-site is www.GaChildSupport.org . Cutie-pie is handsome, intelligent, politically active, can participate in conversations about the world and current events, he is a decent man and he adores his children. Basically, he is the exact opposite of Rick.

One of the songs that we listened to in his car had a line that made me think of Gail Glenn..."You can have my husband but stay away from my man." Of course, Cutie-pie isn't quite "mine", but he is most assuredly a man.

Oh my! The sun is coming up! It's Monday and the garbage man comes this morning so I have to go and get the trash all bagged up. All of a sudden, the lack of sleep is hitting me so I should hurry and get the trash out so that I can go to sleep with that smile of which I spoke earlier!

When I wake up, I am going to begin my "crusade" against those who have no respect for our elderly!!!

See ya soon!

Meggers

Send comments to: meg.kelso@gmail.com

Dear Meg,

I just want to thank you for deciding to go to battle for the residents of the nursing home. It makes me wonder, where are those peoples' families? How can they allow their loved ones to live under such conditions? I would hope you would notify the media to come in and do an investigative report on the conditions and treatment there. Something has to change! Your vivid account was horrific!

First of all, let me thank you for your concern and for taking the time to reply. One of the problems in the nursing home business is that the "squeaky wheel gets the oil"whether it needs it or not. When a family member does complain, especially if they are chronic complainers (not that I blame them!), the entire staff is aware of them and they make sure that, at least on days that the family visits, that those particular residents are well taken care of, often to the detriment of other residents who may be in more dire need of attention and care. What these familys don't realize is that when they are not around, the staff tends to avoid their loved one out of fear that they may do something wrong. They fear that they may lose their job so, the families are actually making matters worse for their loved one with all of that excessive complaining. Also, if the resident is unable to tell the family what is happening, all too often, the staff actually takes the family's behavior out on the resident.

(In all fairness, I must say that there are many dedicated staff members who truly love their work and do all that they can for their residents. Unfortunately, these people are few and far between.)

Now, for the truly sad answer to your question...the majority of families simply don't care enough to pay attention and there are actually an alarming number of residents who rarely, IF EVER, have any visitors. There are some who do drop in for a minute or two, but I sometimes wonder if those visits don't do more harm than good. Yesterday I overheard a man telling his father that he had to leave 5 minutes after he arrived because his wife thought she was "coming down with a cold." I hurt for the resident when I heard that. To make matters worse, the son spent most of the visit chatting with a staff member.

I've brought clothing and toiletry items to residents who have no one. I remember one gentleman who had no family that I had ever seen. The County was listed as his "responsible party". One day I found him walking down the hall in his socks. I looked for his shoes but he had NONE! I pointed it out to the charge nurse whose solution to the problem was to take his socks off so that he didn't didn't slip and fall. I bought him a pair of shoes and a pair of slippers. I cannot count the times, over the years, that I have brought things like pillows, underwear, afghans and even clothing to residents who either had no family or no family that cared enough to bring the needed items. Of course, I am not the only one who would do such things. As I said, there are many staff members with endless compassion and huge hearts who would also bring necessary items to the less fortunate residents.

What really makes me ill are the family members who rarely visit and then when they do, they spend the entire visit complaining about everything that they can think of in an attempt to transfer their guilt onto anyone else other than themselves. Far too often, staff members are busy tending to the ridiculous complaints of these people. Some examples, "Mother has always had her nails done weekly!" or "Father didn't get his newspaper delivered today, I demand that you find out what happened to his paper!" While the staff is busy tending to the minor complaints of these people, another resident down the hall may be lying in urine and/or feces. Not wanting to be reported, the staff will cater to the nut people and ignore the poor resident down the hall who has no one to complain for them and cannot speak for themselves.

Yes, what I saw yesterday was indeed horrific. But I promise you, that is the tip of the iceberg. Years ago, I was called to check the reddened knee of a resident who could not speak. When I lifted her lower leg, it bent at the middle of the shin. Upon further assessment, I found that both of her legs were broken and NO ONE had a clue as to how it happenecouldn't couldn't tell us so we never did get to the bottom of that incident. My guess is that she had her legs in between the side rails and some cruel jack ass or some careless nit wit slammed the side rails down on her legs.

I fired one CNA in the hall after learning that she had covered the mouth of a resident who was lying in bed, and then she pushed her head into the pillow and shook her by the face in an attempt to shut her up. The woecholaliacholalia, a condition in which a patient cannot help repeating syllables over and over again. The resident said, "No, no, no, no, no...." and it irritated the staff member.

There was another CNA in the room at the time and she witnessed the incident. Luckily, a woman who worked in the laundry observed the entire episode. After she reported it to me, she was harassed by the unit NURSE(!) as well as the other CNA's that worked on that unit until she was so intimidated that she quit.

And get this, I was written up for firing the two CNA's in the hall. (The second CNA refused to tell me what had happened and that made her as guilty as the offending CNA.) I was so upset by the entire incident that I immediately fired them both in the hall Admittedly, that is not the proper way to fire people, but I was ACRIMONIUS! I should have controlled myself better but seriously, what decent human being could blame me? But, blame me they did, and I was severely reprimanded. It was the only time that I have ever been written up and that write-up was placed in my personnel record. To be honest, I didn't care one little bit and, given the same set of circumstances, I would probably do it again.

Another dreadful incident occurred when I was working as the Assistant Director of Nursing at a nursing home here in Marietta. I found a woman sitting in her wheelchair, (once again, they were all lined up along the sides of the hall) and she was full of blood. She had two avulsions on the same finger. (An avulsion is an injury where the skin is actually gouged and a hole is left) I asked the CNA who was caring for the woman that day if she knew what had happened. She told me that she was clipping the ladies' fingernails and "missed". First of all, she should have reported the initial injury to the charge nurse immediately. Second of all, how in the hell does that happen by accident TWICE? I remain convinced that the CNA did it on purpose. I was a new employee and as such, I reported it to the Director of Nursing rather than handling it myself. She did nothing. Later on that day as I was documenting what I had found in the resident's chart, I sort of mumbled to myself, "I should have written her up for that." Well, the Director of Nursing was right next to me and she almost shouted at me, "If I thought that she needed to be written up, I would have done it!" I was in no way accusing her of anything, I was just angry at myself for not dealing with the CNA myself instead of reporting it to my superior. I certainly was in a position to have done so. This particular resident was combative and not a very pleasant woman but she was confused and I'm quite sure that she would have been horrified at her behavior if she had been in her right mind. But, it didn't matter one iota how annoying she was, she was entrusted to our care and she most certainly didn't deserve to be abused. Anyway, the next day my Director called me into her office and terminated me because, "You and I have different views on how to run a nursing home." She was, most assuredly, correct.

On another occasion, a very alert resident was abused by a CNA, one that had an excellent reputation, ( She was actually considered one of the best CNA's in the facility!). The CNA told the lady that she would have to go to the dining room to eat her lunch. The resident responded that she wanted to eat in her room and said, "You can't make me go to the dining room!" The "excellent" CNA made a fist and shook it in the ladies" face saying, "You will do exactly as I say or you'll be sorry!" The resident responded, "I can report you!" Then the CNA then took the ladies' thumb and bent it back, holding it like that long enough to hurt her and to scare the hell out of the poor woman. Later, when I noticed that she had been crying, it took quite a bit of convincing and reassurance to get the truth out of her when I asked her what happened. She was terrified of potential retribution from the CNA. I reported this to the State and you'll be happy to know that the GBI investigated the episode and the CNA was prosecuted although I never did find out what sentence she received. But, she did lose her certification and will never be able to work with patients again.

Some lesser problems, but problems nonetheless, include things like residents being dressed in Christmas sweatshirts in July (Can you imagine a confused resident thinking that they were even MORE confused seeing that?), employees that don't speak English being hired to care for confused residents, and the dreaded "thickened liquids".

If a patient has a tough time swallowing or a history of choking, they will usually have an order to have their liquids thickened. The order is written for the liquids to be either "honey thickened" or "nectar thickened". The problem is that I have rarely, if ever, seen the liquids thickened to the consistency of nectar or honey. What I have seen is a lot of liquids that are the consistency of semi-soft Jell-O or even thicker.

Imagine drinking a glass of gritty water, milk or juice that would be better served with a spoon! FAR too much of that gritty thickening agent is stirred into every liquid that the patient is served. Naturally, they rarely drink the crap and the elderly can quickly dehydrate. I have made my son and daughter promise that should I ever be in a condition where I require thickened liquids, that they will sign a paper releasing any facility from liability should I suffer any ill effects of drinking "normal" liquids.

Also, I have seen nurses crush time-released medications such as morphine. What happens is a pill that is supposed to last for 12 hours is given in such a manner that the patient receives a HUGE does of the morphine which could cause an overdose at worst and at best, they are left to suffer in pain for the 11 hours that they must wait after the large does wears off and the next does is given. The excuse that the nurses give is, "The patient can't swallow the pill whole so I have to crush it." Well, a smart nurse should do one of two things. Firstly, you can get the order changed so that you can deliver the medicine rectally (almost any medication that can be given orally can also be given rectally). Secondly, the nurse could simply call the doctor and tell him or her that the pill is not appropriate for that particular patient and they can order something else. Something like a pain patch (another form of time-released medication that is absorbed though the skin and lasts for 3 days.) would be ideal for such a patient. No matter how many times I explained that concept and no matter how many signs I posted in the medication rooms, they continued to crush the damn time-released pills! Such combinations of stupidity and laziness are far too common.

Speaking of pain medications, you wouldn't believe how many nurses don't believe in giving pain medication. I attended a pain relief seminar years ago and I forget the exact percentages, but, at that time, only 30 something % of doctors ordered adequate pain medications and 20 something % of nurses actually give the pain medication that is ordered. If you took 100 patients and did the math using 35% for the doctors and 25% for the nurses, about 35 of them would have had adequate pain relief ordered and of that 35, only 8 or 9 of them would receive the medication. That's 8 or 9 people out of 100 who receive adequate pain relief!!!!! Why would a nurse withhold pain medication if they have an order from a doctor? There are as many stupid reasons as there are stupid nurses. The way they are so stingy with that stuff, you'd think it was their own personal stash!!!! Anybody over the age of 40 knows all about the aches and pains of growing older, can you imagine how much these arthritic, decrepit old people must hurt? In nursing school, we are taught that the definition of pain is "whatever what the patient says it is". Even if you think that the patient might be overreacting to their pain or even exaggerating the level of their pain, why not err on the side of the patient? The nurse is covered if they carry out the doctors' orders.

When I was working as the Assistant Director of Nursing, I would come in on Monday mornings and find an inordinate number of residents "impacted". That means that their stool was very hard and right there, waiting to come out but the residents were unable to relieve themselves. So, I would have to actually dig it out of them to provide relief. (Not a pleasant experience for anyone concerned.) This particular facility was staffed by far too many agency nurses (They were too cheap to offer a decent wage and therefore couldn't attract many decent charge nurses.). After finding so many residents impacted week after week, I started monitoring the levels in the bottles of a drug called Lactulose (a liquid laxative usually kept in the bottom drawer of a medication cart). I eventually figured out that the agency nurses, as well as some of our own staff, would give only the drugs that were in the"bingo cards". The drugs in the other sections of the medication cart were just not given at all. Apparently, they were too lazy to bend over and get it out of the drawer. (I don't mean to demean agency nurses, many of them are excellent.)

As the ADON, I would often stop by work unannounced in the middle of the night only to find staff sleeping while call lights would be going off up and down the halls. As anyone in this business can tell you, most falls occur on the night shift because these people get so sick of waiting for someone to answer their call lights that they climb over the side rails of their beds, in the dark, and then they fall as they are trying to toilet themselves. In my opinion, the number of broken hips that I have seen under such circumstances is criminal.

Also, at the end of every month, somebody has the job of checking the monthly MAR's and TAR's (Medication Administration Records and Treatment Administration Records). This is where the nurses initial when the meds or treatments were given or performed. If there are holes in them where the medication orders or treatment orders were not properly carried out, nurses were assigned to go and fill in all of the holes with their own initials, whether they had given the medication or not. The only requirement is that the nurse doing the initialling had to have been on the clock on the dates he or she was initialing. Nobody really cared if the orders had been carried out, but God forbid the State should audit these records and find orders that have been left undone.

Whenever the State comes for the annual inspections of these facilities, everybody works like fools for a week or more to make it appear as though everything is being done properly. After the inspections, things go back to normal. I have seen this happen at EVERY SINGLE FACILITY THAT I HAVE WORKED AT!!!!

If there is anyone out there who has the time, as I have suggested before, it would be a lovely gesture to stop by a local nursing home and visit with some residents who have no visitors. Take your kids with you, they would benefit as much as, if not more than, the residents. There is little as gratifying as a visit with these treasures. Many local churches come to these places and make nice little things for the residents, visit with them and they even come caroling room to room during the Christmas season. If your church doesn't have such a group, it would be the height of generosity of spirit to start one. It certainly doesn't have to be a church group, like the song says, "where two are gathered in His name, there is love"

Also, most of these facilities would love to have children trick or treat on Halloween. The residents truly enjoy seeing the children in their costumes and it is certainly a safe place for the kids to celebrate Halloween. The holidays are a great time to visit these places as those are the times when the lonely residents feel the loneliest. But there's certainly no bad time to visit!

If there is anyone out there who has clothing that they would like to donate to a local nursing home, just call the facility's social worker and ask if you can do so. Also, books and games are great as well. You could even email me and I would be happy to assist you. I would love to return to the place that I visited yesterday and bring them some sorely needed items. If you would like to donate cash, I would be happy to send you receipts for anything that I would purchase for these people. As a matter of fact, if there is anyone out there who could assist me in starting such a charitable organization, I would love to hear from you as well. Someone who knows the legalities of the accounting end would be great, I can do the rest. And, with the resident's permission, I could even send you pictures. As a matter of fact, I just thought of a great idea. I could begin an organization for the elderly like those that have you "adopt" a poor child in foreign country only you could "adopt" a Grandparent! That idea just struck me like a huge brainstorm and I certainly have the time and the great desire to do it. If there is enough interest in something like that, I would absolutely LOVE to do it! So, please, if you think that you would be interested, email me at Meg.Kelso@gmail.com .

Lastly, to answer the question about getting the media involved, I am most certainly going to report that facility to the State tomorrow but I would have to ask some questions about confidentiality before I reported them to the media. Perhaps the State regulatory agency that I am calling tomorrow will advise me regarding that.

I am so hyped about this...we could do some wonderful things for some of our most treasured assets...our elderly. We owe them so very much and I can't imagine a more deserving group of people. Remember my friend who survived the Bataan Death March? He once told me that living in that nursing home was worse than the march...we are a rich enough and kind enough country to change that, don't you think?

Meg


Send comments to: Meg.Kelso@gmail.com

I am so sad today...

...I went to visit some of my old patients in a nursing home that I used to work at. A nurse that I worked with was still there. She had been telling me some horror stories about the facility that have been caused by a number of changes in management. I thought she had been exaggerating a bit, but actually, she didn't even tell me the half of it.

I found residents lying a urine soaked beds, begging for help as I passed them and most of them had filthy, matted hair. The men and women were unshaven and the staff was nowhere to be found. I fed a lady who had been left in her room with her food sitting on a table. I had to warm the food up in the microwave and then I tried to feed her. She refused to eat anything after the first bite because, "It doesn't taste right." I took a bite of her meal and she was right, the food was so salty that no one could have eaten it. I mentioned it to the nurse friend of mine and she said that it was ALWAYS too salty. Apparently, the cook likes salty food so she prepares it with far, far too much salt. The meat looked like the meat on a McRib sandwich from McDonald's, but it tasted like a watery sponge. I found a tray in another room that had been left there since breakfast. That patient had been served burnt toast and a bowl of grits. Other than the orange juice, that was all that this person had been served.

There was an Chinese lady who spoke very little English. When I passed her, she was in tears and I finally figured out that all she wanted was to go to the bathroom. Like most nursing homes, this place slaps diapers on EVERY person who is admitted because the CNA's don't want to be bothered toileting the residents. I took her to the bathroom and she cried tears of gratitude and held onto my hand, thanking me and telling me how much she loved me, and that she would "love me forever." She offerred, in broken English, to pay me when her daughter came.

I took a gentleman to the bathroom because he was begging anyone who passed to help him. The staff just ignored him. He was a totally alert man with both legs amputated. I took him to the bathroom as well. Once again, he thanked me like no human being should have to thank a person who performed the simple task of toileting him.

While I was there, a woman fell and broke her foot as she was trying to reach the bathroom herself. As the EMT's took her through the lobby, she was apologizing profusely. I took it to mean that she was in fear of some punishment for falling.

I knelt next to a man in a wheelchair and noticed a bandage on his leg. It was dated 8/10. The redness from the brewing infection was visible beyond the borders of the bandage. I told his nurse who responded by telling me that, "I am not the wound care nurse." Perhaps she wasn't, but a nurse is ultimately responsible for the care of their patient. I asked for help for residents at least 4 times and each and every time, "That's not my resident." was the answer that I was given. They didn't know that I was a nurse so they saw no reason to even attempt to be decent. As a visitor, they were offended at my "interference".

The entire place was filthy and the staff walked past filth on the floor, creating a safety hazard to any elderly person who might slip on the filth.

As I passed one room, I overheard a CNA scolding a resident for using the call bell to request help. Her exact words were, "I told you not to bother me, you aren't the only person that I have to take care of! If you push that button one more time, I'll put it where you can't reach it!" She was so nasty that I wanted to smack her. When the CNA was gone, I went in to offer the woman some help. All she wanted was water. That bitch CNA took longer scolding the patient than it would have taken her to pour the pitiful woman a glass of water.

The nurses sat at the nursing station when lights were going off all down the halls. I wanted to cry. One man asked me if I could get him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When I asked his nurse if it would be OK, she said, "NO! He already ate his breakfast!" First of all, this was a big man and I doubt that toast, burnt or not, and a bowl of grits would have filled him up. Secondly, SO WHAT IF HE DID EAT THAT SLOP! The man was hungry. I went to the snack machine and got him some crackers and apple juice. Once again, the man cried with gratitude.

The Alzheimer's Unit was like something out of a horror movie and the staff sadly reminded me of Nurse Ratchett from One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest. The supervisor sat at the nurses station eating and chatting for most of the day. The staff ordered themselves Chinese food to be delivered, apparently it was payday and they all had the money to buy themselves a nice meal while the residents, mostly lined up in the halls, watched them eat. I couldn't believe how many trays were left at the bedsides of helpless residents who couldn't feed themselves. Then, when the staff began picking up the trays, they wrote on slips of paper that the residents had eaten anywhere from 75-100% of their meals when they had not been given a bite of food.

Walking down the halls, I noticed that most of them were in wheelchair's, lined up and down the halls like cattle. The stench of urine and BM was overwhelming. As I drove home, I was in tears. The frustration of not being able to help those people was too much for me to bear. Some of them were in filthy clothing, others in mismatched clothing and I even saw one woman, as I passed her room, lying on her bed stark naked, attempting to eat while holding a sheet to cover herself.

One of the men that I visited today was in the Bataan Death March. He survived that while he was protecting us and our way of life. I think it's a damn shame that we can't treat him, and all others like him, in a manner befitting a veteran who fought for us, and...almost died for us.

I am so angry now and I am going to report this place to the State of Georgia. Our elderly deserve so much more that what we do for them. They raised us and worked all of their lives only to end up in a warehouse for humans. Those people are somebody's mothers, fathers and grandparents. They were teachers, accountants and caregivers at one time. I would never, under any circumstances, allow my father to be placed in a nursing home. Not all of them are so bad, but most are not at all what a human being deserves. One day, anyone of us might end up in a nursing home and it would behoove us all to bitch until things are better at ALL nursing homes. If you would like to do something that mught help these people, here's a link that will help you locate the email address of your representatives:

http://www.house.gov/writerep/

If you'd like, you could just send them what I've written. Please, help these people in whatever way that you.

See ya,

Meg

Send comments to: meg.kelso@gmail.com

In a recent Channel 4 news broadcast, it was announced that Lorena Bobbitt's sister Louella was arrested for an alleged attempt to perform the same act on her husband as her famous sister had done several years ago. Sources reveal the sister was not as accurate as Lorena.
She allegedly missed the target and stabbed her husband in the upper thigh causing severe muscle and tendon damage. The husband is reported to be in serious, but stable condition, and Louella has been charged with misdewiener!


A friend sent me that and I thought it was cute. It had me going for a minute. OK, I am exhausted so off to couch I go.

See ya,

Meg

Oh my God...

I just watched the worst movie that I have ever seen and that's saying a lot considering all of the stupid karate movies that the cretin I was married to brought home. It's called Constantine and the only reason I even agreed to watch it is because Keanu Reeves was the star. I don't have a clue what he was thinking. My son swore it was a "great" movie and I will never trust his opinion of any movie again. Well, I have nothing else to say right now, I just wanted to be sure that no one else is subjected to such a hideous display. OK, see ya.

Meg

Apparently, someone is using my name...

...on Cruel.com. Apparently, this is from me:

That you are all cowed into silence - fearful to even mention what you think "my" name might be - is evidence of your pathetic subservience to rcade, your puppetmaster and weak-minded leader of the meek (though he denies leading you, I know better.)

I did not write that now have I even visited Cruel in weeks if not months. If there is someone out there pretending to be me, the nit wits at Cruel deserve to be fooled. I have never, nor would I ever, deny anything that I have written. So, the fools who spent time responding to “me”, have totally wasted their time. Oh well, I suppose they probably didn’t have anything constructive to do with their time anyway. By the way, thank you to the guy who sent the link to me.

Have a lovely day!

Meggers

A guy I know sent this to me and I thought it was cute so here it is:

Apples and Grapes

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree. Share this with women who are good apples, even those who have already been picked!

Now Men....Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

That jack ass has been gone...

....for close to a year now and I’m still noticing things that he stole of mine. I had gathered a bunch of the new nickels and some of the new quarters that I’ve been saving and I went to put them with my coin collection. It’s gone. When he took my passport, he took my coin collection. I didn’t even know it was missing until yesterday.

If the doctor told me that I had 6 months to live, I would go and take all my stuff back and pull a Lorena Bobbitt on the man. My healthy respect for the law and cluastrophobia keeps me out of jail so I have to obey the law for the time being.

Over the past year, I’ve gained a healthy respect for Ms. Bobbitt. I just have one question for her. If she went to all the trouble to whack that thing off, why in the hell did she tell the cops where it was? She should have fed it to the nearest dog. We haven’t heard much from her since the trial. I think I heard that she left the country but I’m not sure. I imagine that if she were still here, the media would be reporting on her every so often like they do her strange husband. That guy was truly an idiot.
Supposedly, he wanted to let the world know that he could still...use that thing...so he made a few porno flicks. That was supposed to help imporve his image. If your wife slices off your manhood because you are an abusive cheat, I don’t think porno flicks are going to make you very attractive to women. Women are odd, OJ Simpson still gets dates and women are marrying imprisoned murderers. The nut who married The Nightstalker thought he was “cute”.

There isn’t a murderer in this world that I would consider cute. If Donny Osmond offed his parents, he would cease to be the cute little thing that I’ve thought he was since I was 10 years old. Call me kookie, but I just don’t find violent men, murderers or not, to be very attractive.

Unfortunately, most of them aren’t violent until they get you to fall for them. By that time, they have manipulated their women pretty well and it isn’t as easy to leave as it should be. If I hadn’t been in that situation, I wouldn’t believe that any woman with half a brain could fall for the manipulative actions of a creep that would hit a woman.

Oh well, I’m out of it now. I went out last night with a guy who I’ve known for years. I don’t get this one. When I was still with Rick, this guy had enough class not to hit on me. But Rick’s been gone long enough now that I would think he would at least make a move. But...noooo. Not so much as a peck on the cheek. I don’t get that at all. I’ve pretty much given up trying to figure out how I should react should he try to kiss me, I just act like we’re friends and leave it at that.

I’m getting sick of all these men freinds of mine. I absolutely adore them, but every so often, I would like to at least make out. I suppose that would only make my state of abstinence worse, but what the heck? It couldn’t hurt too much.

The other day I have one of those attacks of libido and I wanted to grab the mailman but I missed him when I went to change shirts. I suppose I could take one of the nutty men who respond to that fake profile of mine, but who knows what kind of freaks they could be? There was one who told me he was from out of town. He said that he would be in Atlanta for business and he asked me what exit I lived closest to. I told him and he got a motel room right near the exit. We went out for dinner and he started holding my hand and acting like we were headed for the sack at any moment. It was quite obvious that this guy had nothing but sex on his mind and I basically just left him after he wouldn’t give up. I never expected to hear from him again and I actually had forgotten about him. Then, he started calling me again this week.

I answered the phone not knowing who it was and I recognized his voice. Whatever reason I had to avoid him, he had an answer to it. I finally just agreed to go out with him and told him to call me later in the day. Now I knew his number and I just didn’t answer the phone. I have a feeling he was married, no particular reason, just a feeling. I have no intention of going out with any married men although I could keep pretty busy if I were that type. Married men are easy, they are just happy to have a warm body that isn’t their wife But, only for one night, most of them don’t have any plans to leave their wives. It's a shame that more women don't have the brains and the morals to leave the married men alone.

So, those are my options now, married men and men who have too much respect for me to even make a small move. This divorce better be final soon, I can always find a 28 year old.

Meg

OK, I’ve slept longer than I had in...

all of last week combined. I don’t know why. Perhaps I was temporarily possessed by my mother. If the administrator of heaven gave her a chance to come to earth to enjoy any of her earthly pleasures, she would choose to sleep. She awed me with her ability to sleep through anything that we 6 kids could do. Not that we would have wanted her to wake up, that time was pretty much a free for all for us.

Most of the time I could pretty much subdue the kids but I only had 14 months on one of my brothers and occasionally he would start “smelling his piss”, as my grandmother would say. (I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but it seems to fit.) He even broke my nose once to show that he was not going to bow to me. I was in a sleeping bag at the time and couldn’t defend myself. When I finally got out of it, I ran to the kitchen counter and bled on that for a while before thinking to go into the bathroom and splash water on it.

While I was still in the bathroom my parents came home. I could tell because my mother was shrieking from all of the blood she saw in the kitchen. She never could hold her head in an emergency. When I accidentally spray painted my own eyes, she shouted, “My daughter is going to be blind!!!!” over and over again. I hadn’t even considered that option. But, mothers are pretty smart and if she thought I was gonna go blind, I probably would. So I started screaming too. My poor father didn’t know what to do. He was squirting me in the face with the hose at the kitchen sink and telling me to open my eyes. I should have listened to the man...I ended up in the emergency room in a thing that held my eyes open whether I wanted to or not. They had a better way to squirt me in the eyes and they knew how to make it happen.

There was one time that she didn’t get upset over one of my injuries. She was too busy yelling at me for making her late for work by requiring stitches. I sat in the car holding my bleeding hand up for her to see and she just kept yelling at me. There was no sympathy for me that day. In MY mind, it was all her fault. If she had opened the damn door when I knocked on it, I wouldn’t have had to knock so hard on the window. But in her mind, I was tjust an annoyance that made her late for work.

There wasn’t really much pity in my house for stupid injuries, no matter how severe. When we got out first electric stove, I wondered if it stayed hot after it was no longer red. So, being the curious little girl that I was, I put my hand on the burner to see how hot is was. It was pretty damn hot. I had a spiral burn on my hand that hurt like a son of bitch. I hate a burn. I would much rather break a leg. They say redheads don’t feel pain as much as other people and I think that is probably true, I broke my back and didn’t know it until I had an x-ray 6 months later. I never felt labor pains until I had a head sticking out of me and that’s not a good thing. They don’t give any pain medicine during the last few minutes of childbirth and that was the only time it DID hurt. But I survived natural childbirth althought that was NEVER my intent. Anyway, I cannot handle a burn...I walk around with a cold pack on it for hours.

When I was about 2, I noticed that both my mother and my Aunt were wearing round things on their fingers. I wanted one and there happen to be a washer right in front of me so I put it on my finger. I ended up sitting on the neighbors workbench, my hand in a vice grip, wondering why they had to saw my finger off. I remember every minute of that experience.

Kids think funny things. I had a lot of nosebleeds as a little girl and I often ended up in the emergency room for them. They would pack my nose well, assuring that the blood would go down my throat. I remember the doctor using what I thought were a pair of scissors to pack my nose with. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was those scissors going up my nose. In the morning when my mother took the packing out, I was terrified that she didn’t take out the scissors. I knew they were up there, but I couldn’t see them to pull them out of my head. After I stopped being afraid, I was sort of proud of it. I would tell anyone who would listen that I had a pair of scissors in my head.

For some reason I told a lot of lies as a little girl. I told all of my girlfriends that I knitted my own sweater. I told a teacher that our stove exploded and that my back was all burned. Of course, you couldn’t see the burn, I had a shirt on which was a special medical shirt that you couldn’t pull up. I always had what in my mind seemed like very good BS. When I told my friends that our new car had a table and two couches in the back, they didn’t believe me. This time I was right, that’s how I perceived the pull up seats in the back. There was something that took the place of a table although that’s not really what it was. I stood there next to the car proudly proving that my story, if only this one time, was pretty much true.

Oh well, I have written about nothing long enough, I should go and find something more constructive to do with myself. Have a good day.

Meg

Send comments to: Meg.kelso@gmail.com