Life goes on

I'm back in business...happily ensconced in front of CBS Sunday morning with my new Toshiba lap top and still trying to learn my way around Windows 7.  So far I can't say I'm in love with it as it has some quirky stuff going on but perhaps I will get used to it.  And slowly I'm coming to grips with what I lost when my old one crashed.  But what the hey, it's only stuff and I can create again.
Has anyone tried hooping?  My friend Rowan teaches it and has a full page article this morning in the Houston Chronicle.  Dancing with a heavier hoop swirling around one's middle.  Rowan is teaching it and has lost 50 lbs. and looks great.  I think I'm ready to try it as my workouts at the gym don't seem to be doing something about my middle, darn it.
Friday was a total loss...it was the day for my colonoscopy check-up.  If you haven't had this lovely procedure, the prep the day before is the worst, really the worst.  Imagine the worst stomach virus only this time you are experiencing it on purpose...cleaning out your whole system before the procedure that takes about 20 minutes.  DH took me over at 6:30 am and the waiting room was crowded....geezus, all these folk volunteering for this?  So I was taken to Bay 3, told to strip to my socks and put on the paper gown.  Soon a pleasant nurse named Jackie took my vitals and put in a catheter for an IV.  There must have been 12 bays in this little hospital and they were all full of beds moving in and out.  Soon it was my turn and it was grand Central Station with a traffic jam of gurneys rolling in and out, some with patients knocked out.  I was rolled into the op room and greeted my doctor for the first time and looked around at various screens as I lay under the bright lights.  A nurse came with two vials of the magic stuff and put them into the catheter.  I was out like a light and here comes the problem.  I'm very sensitive to any kind of anesthetic and don't remember anything for quite a while after that.  The procedure went fine, I'm fine and don't have to do it again for 5 years but the problem was afterwards.  My husband said I started falling when I tried to get into the car, the nurse caught me and helped me in.  I have no memory of getting dressed, getting into a wheel chair, being rolled out to the car and barely anything until I woke up in my own bed around noon.  My husband was so worried that I would fall getting out of the car at home that he drove around for a while so I would come to.  He stopped at Starbuck's and got me a giant coffee which seemed to help and got me home and into bed.  So weird to have no memory of all of that.  This drug is designed to allow one to respond but not remember what goes on while you are on it...guess it is kin to the "date-rape" drug.  It is scary to think what could have happened if I had fallen at home.  I think the docs in there are going "ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching" every time they roll another one in.  Not a comforting feeling!  What else would motivate a guy to spend his working hours sending cameras up people's asses? 

Weekly Entertainment from Entertainment Weekly

Sorry I have no illustrations for this....but in a recent article in a popular magazine a performer's vocals were described as a "singing orgasm."  Now there's a thought.  I do recall orgasms that left me singing but I can't recall any singing orgasms by me or any of my partners.  However I'm not ruling out that possibility.  Are there voice coaches for that?  Or would it be a specialty of a sex therapist?  What exactly should I ask when inquiring about this training and how long does one have to train to become skilled in singing orgasms?  Would such a coach take on a more mature student?  Mature, not old, just mature.  And does Medicare cover this service?  I'm trying to imagine just where one's focus might be in all of this.  It sounds challenging...like trying to pat one's head, chew gum, and rub one's tummy counter-clock wise at the same time but then I'm not a singer.
      I wonder what my husband would say if I suddenly broke out in an aria from Aida or Madam Butterfly but then he is a fan of Gilbert & Sullivan.  Maybe he would be happier with something from the H.M.S. Pinafore...probably better rhythm in that.  Also I wonder if a costume or wig is necessary for this magical experience.  Perhaps we should consider a duet.  We could do ads for Viagra...big or little ones depending on its success.

How did I get to this point?

Still no computer...it is a matter finances really.  I would love an Apple but will probably be limited to a PC.  But what I have come to grips with is how dependent I have become in just a decade on this little machine.  The rest of the world seems to run on one and so do I.  Are we just communication sluts?  Addicted to knowing?  I am amazed at the chunk of time I now have without it.  I even rediscovered my handwriting yesterday preparing for my memoir class.  But let me tell you, folks, I don't write as well by hand...I really don't.  thoughts get lost while tediously moving the pen across the page.  Other writers tell me they have a different experience and write first by hand and then edit it onto the computer. 
I was so hoping to have a new lap top for the workshops I'm going to with Max Regan this weekend but alas, I doubt it....it occurs to me I could have a big step toward the new computer if I didn't go to the workshops but I really want to go and will be happy to be there writing by hand while everyone else is clicking away.
Another sign of aging...I rediscovered some memoirs I wrote about 5 years ago and they are better written than what I wrote yesterday.  Darn!...What is going on here?  Is it my memory or just my thinking process cluttered with other stuff?  A bifarcation point?

Oh no...Murphy's Law

My computer crashed!  I've heard of others having the problem but yep, it has been verified!  There is no recovery of all those files that I didn't put on a CD.  All those pictures gone, all the documents vaporized.  The doctor said it was a fatal virus that there is no medication for, that there was no vacine for it in all the vacines that were current.    I'm borrowing my husband's computer now and trying to figure out what to get as a replacement and how to pay for it.  But I'm also noticing the amount of time that has been freed up.  No Facebook checking, no diddling around with other sites. 
     As for me there is no DSM IV diagnosis for computer loss.  It feels like an invasive attact, a violation.  How dare some varmint come and infect me!  Hmmm....and yet I feel like I have lost a close friend.  Maybe I should have a little ceremony in the back yard and bury the old one.  Two hundred years from now some land developer can dig it up and make some judgement about what it might be for.  Probably not...two hundred years from now this will probably be all under water if our society doesn't do somthing quick about global warming.  So how should I mark the grave?  Maybe a colorful flash drive glued to a stick.
       So now the question is:  Mac or PC?  Lots of folk tell me Mac and I am going this afternoon to a friend's house to play on her new one.  Any comments on the subject would be appreciated. 
        Dang....life is what happens when we are making other plans!  Off I go...hubby wants his toy back.

Ho hum...

Okay, this is getting old...all this gray and gloomy weather but it has put me indoors and getting stuff done.  I finished the jean jacket for granddaughter's birthday next week.  $19.95 at Target and I've spent $25 on trims and sequins.  It has a picture of Justin Bieber on the back; he's the latest teeny-bopper heart throb.  We are giving her tickets to his concert at the Houston Rodeo next month.  Last year I made her one with Taylor Swift on the back but she has lost status this year.  I love revamping these jackets with lace and buttons and stuff.  I can't sell them with the pictures on the backs as I feel sure the pictures are copy-righted even if I get them off the Internet. 
My studio is even cleaned up...holy moly.  About time, huh!  My writing class is going so well.  The teacher doesn't teach us anything which is rather odd but we learn by listening to each other's stories and oh what stories they are.  By now we are all so hooked into each other's dramas that we keep taking the class to keep up.  It would be nice however if every now and then the teacher added a little something but after 4 semesters I've given up.  When I run across an article that is about writing memoir, I send it on to class mates.  The teacher in me just can't help it.