As I sit down this morning...
...I have no clue where my fingers are about to take me. Nothing special has happened, no hideous health problems, no annoying political crap and my weekend, while enjoyable, wasn't really noteworthy.
I did play cribbage for a while which I haven't done in quite a while but other than that, and an intriguing lack of sex, this weekend will be remembered as the Wet Weekend in LA. The weather was more exciting than my own weekend. But, I suppose at my age I should be happy with that.
That, and of course, my new relationship. I'm afraid to talk about it, not because someone might read it but because I haven't figured it out yet. I should...and I'll probably do that...but not right now. I'm confused enough without adding romance to my cerebral duties du jour.
Apparently my brain is in a vulnerable condition as it is. After 3 strokes, I'm just happy that I can spell. The strokes, while not anything I'd really WANT to do again, are interesting.
When I have one, I don't remember anything. I suddenly and without warning find myself surrounded by strangers and unaware of who I am, who they are or what in the hell is going on. I figure it must be a lot like Alzheimer's Disease. If it is, you have no idea just how frightening it is to know nothing. There is a sense of self awareness, but nothing else at all. You can't understand what the strangers are saying and they are absolutely NOT going to go away so eventually they become scary little creatures and sometimes I want to hit them. I haven't yet...thank God...but I've come really, really close.
Hell, sneak up on me from behind in a bar and I'll turn around swinging...and that's when I'm sober. Get me all stroked up and I could really do some damage. Luckily, even my totally confused self starts to practice self restraint at some point. That's a good thing but if I had to stay confused for any length of time I'm sure I'd smack a person or two...probably a couple times a month.
Every time I was confused like that, someone I knew eventually sparked something inside. Once I recognized ANYTHING, I recognized almost everything.
Anyway, I hope I never have to stay in that condition for any length of time. It would truly be hellish. I can handle forgetting the words to Happy Birthday to You...but if I couldn't recognize my kids, I wouldn't want to be here. And the shit of it would be, I wouldn't have the wits to blow my own head off. I'd have to count on someone else and I don't have any insurance so no one would really benefit from my death...but some nursing home would benefit from my pitiful existence. Maybe I should get some insurance and make Scott Peterson the beneficiary...yeah, that'd do it.
What a neat way to commit suicide! Think about it...you buy a huge policy and make some murdering SOB the beneficiary and if you get murdered properly, they get double the settlement. I know there are probably nieces or nephews out there thinking, "No need to leave it to OJ Simpson, I'll kill you myself!" If that's the case, just call your family member up and tell them that ONE TIME. After that there could be wiretapping involved so settle it all in the first conversation.
Of course, we do need some confused people around, they really are a laugh. I do enjoy them, mean and confused or nice and confused, they're all fun to be around. I don't think I'd be any fun to be around for any length of time so someone needs to shoot me...or sit me in front of a TV full of TV shows from the 50's and 60's, get me some music and bring me a joint to smoke and I'll be one happy little old lady stoner.
Well, I think I've run the gamut so I'm gonna publish this sucker now. Have a lovely Monday and think of me the next time you sneeze.
...I have no clue where my fingers are about to take me. Nothing special has happened, no hideous health problems, no annoying political crap and my weekend, while enjoyable, wasn't really noteworthy.
I did play cribbage for a while which I haven't done in quite a while but other than that, and an intriguing lack of sex, this weekend will be remembered as the Wet Weekend in LA. The weather was more exciting than my own weekend. But, I suppose at my age I should be happy with that.
That, and of course, my new relationship. I'm afraid to talk about it, not because someone might read it but because I haven't figured it out yet. I should...and I'll probably do that...but not right now. I'm confused enough without adding romance to my cerebral duties du jour.
Apparently my brain is in a vulnerable condition as it is. After 3 strokes, I'm just happy that I can spell. The strokes, while not anything I'd really WANT to do again, are interesting.
When I have one, I don't remember anything. I suddenly and without warning find myself surrounded by strangers and unaware of who I am, who they are or what in the hell is going on. I figure it must be a lot like Alzheimer's Disease. If it is, you have no idea just how frightening it is to know nothing. There is a sense of self awareness, but nothing else at all. You can't understand what the strangers are saying and they are absolutely NOT going to go away so eventually they become scary little creatures and sometimes I want to hit them. I haven't yet...thank God...but I've come really, really close.
Hell, sneak up on me from behind in a bar and I'll turn around swinging...and that's when I'm sober. Get me all stroked up and I could really do some damage. Luckily, even my totally confused self starts to practice self restraint at some point. That's a good thing but if I had to stay confused for any length of time I'm sure I'd smack a person or two...probably a couple times a month.
Every time I was confused like that, someone I knew eventually sparked something inside. Once I recognized ANYTHING, I recognized almost everything.
Anyway, I hope I never have to stay in that condition for any length of time. It would truly be hellish. I can handle forgetting the words to Happy Birthday to You...but if I couldn't recognize my kids, I wouldn't want to be here. And the shit of it would be, I wouldn't have the wits to blow my own head off. I'd have to count on someone else and I don't have any insurance so no one would really benefit from my death...but some nursing home would benefit from my pitiful existence. Maybe I should get some insurance and make Scott Peterson the beneficiary...yeah, that'd do it.
What a neat way to commit suicide! Think about it...you buy a huge policy and make some murdering SOB the beneficiary and if you get murdered properly, they get double the settlement. I know there are probably nieces or nephews out there thinking, "No need to leave it to OJ Simpson, I'll kill you myself!" If that's the case, just call your family member up and tell them that ONE TIME. After that there could be wiretapping involved so settle it all in the first conversation.
Of course, we do need some confused people around, they really are a laugh. I do enjoy them, mean and confused or nice and confused, they're all fun to be around. I don't think I'd be any fun to be around for any length of time so someone needs to shoot me...or sit me in front of a TV full of TV shows from the 50's and 60's, get me some music and bring me a joint to smoke and I'll be one happy little old lady stoner.
Well, I think I've run the gamut so I'm gonna publish this sucker now. Have a lovely Monday and think of me the next time you sneeze.
posted by Meg Kelso | 7:48 AM
3 Comments:
Maybe I should get some insurance and make Scott Peterson the beneficiary...yeah, that'd do it. What a neat way to commit suicide! Think about it...you buy a huge policy and make some murdering SOB the beneficiary and if you get murdered properly, they get double the settlement.
That's a FAIL then. He wanted to insure her for $100,000. She insisted on the higher amount. Even without the conviction her death cost him - she was due to inherit a large sum and her death closed off that avenue. You might want to see who benefited from that.
I understand EXACTLY of what you speak. I know he didn't benefit from her death at all. I also know who did.
My musings are all in fun. I don't want to commit suicide, if I did, I'd use a gun.
:):):)
I also know who did.
I know it was a woman, somewhere in age between 18 and 40 (approx). That's about all I know.
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