Word Designer

This was the first word out of my mouth this morning. I can’t explain why. I know it resembles one of the parts of the body, somewhere. But that’s ok. Its not really important. The important thing is what I want to talk about. I want to tell you about Endoscopies!

Its a fun exam where they put a tube down your throat with a camera and they look at your upper digestive tract. But it doesn’t matter what they’re doing really because you are completely out in some other world.

So my experience yesterday was the other world. But first, of course, I had to wait for it. in suspense for an hour extra because I came early. It is my own fault as I should know by now; should know to ignore my parents, never to be more than 5-10 minutes early to an appointment with a doctor. The chances of them running late are like 96%, no?

But that doesn’t matter too much. 1 hour later, after waiting in a waiting room with my parents, and the loudest heat ever (radiator heat can be really very loud), I went to a room. In this room I was given a dressing down and was told to wait there.  So I waited.
And wait. Then another door opened up on the other side of the room. I peaked in and it was another world!  Truman show or matrixish - lots of cameras and tvs and other serious equipment. But it was the endoscopy room. A nurse led me to a hospital cot and I got to wait. And wait a little longer.
The doctor eventually came in and strapped me up to give me an IV. He really put a strap on me. I don’t know why. I guess so I wouldn’t roll away? He took my glasses so everything started to get foggy already and told me “your going to be under sedation now” and I was like “sedation?”
The room and its movements became flowy. The light traveled in clumps. The doc said that he would keep saying my name once in a while and I said ok. But he never said my name. And I tried to relax. And someone put something in my nose and the room got dim. And then I opened my eyes. But it was quiet now.  And I was in a different dim room. I couldn’t lift my head. So I closed my eyes again. And napped in the heaviest, sweetest nap.

A nurse came in and asked me something. I don’t think I answered too coherently. But she offered me something to drink. Which is when I realized the state of my throat.  The Sahara? I was thirstier than a deserted peron. I got excited for ginger ale. And it was the best ginger ale in the world. I slept a little bit longer. And then I started to get up. But that was really funny. I don’t know what funny, but it must have been entertaining. I would be getting dressed too, and aside from the laughter as an impedent, my legs were ones too. they didn’t really know what they were supposed to do. Poor legs.

I stumbled out clothed eventually and my parents took their drunk daughter to a cab and drove home. I loved the cab ride. I napped there too in what could not have been longer than 2 minute dreams. One was about the brady bunch. And one was about these pink furry things on a table. Some of them had a watch wrapped around. Some were moving. My friend was there; we were picking some up. I don’t know why. It didn’t matter because I woke up and laughed at my parents about something.

They should have taken more advantage of my drunken state. But they were kind.   Then we arrived at home and I ate soup.
And that was my ’scopisperience.

When I woke up this morning at 5 am, like a crazy woman, I saw the purple sky out the window. But I didn’t take note for longer than a second to think “oh purple sky… snow?”.

I woke up later on this morning and there was snow on the ground! Barely a half inch fell, but I saw the white trees and car tops and the calm that comes with the white color.

The first snow is never anything to complain about. I used to complain, but now I am not. I guess when you have nothing to fear you can actually appreciate it and I wanted to share that.

The scent of ginger of brings me to a memory. It smells of 80 degrees and palm trees. Walking up a stone road, surrounded by stone walls and pink houses.  Green tropical trees, roosters passing by, blue skies and sand.

It smells like sitting in a courtyard, watching tourists walk by and sipping a can of soda. It is a perfume that is happy and weak with tranquility.

Its a good time and a peaceful place.  Suntan results, relaxed mind. Feels like an embrace of hot air and a bear hug from the one you love.

Ginger. Beer mixed with rum. Drunk with bliss.

Oh Jury Duty.  My new favorite thing in life.  How do people complain about you?  Why do people groan or give you the sympathetic sigh then you say you have Jury Duty on Monday?  “Oh… I’m sorry.”  Don’t they know?

And whats even better is that it lived up to all my expectations. Except that I didn’t get to be on a case. But I almost did!

The first day started at 8:30 am, pouring rain, on a line curled around the courthouse, 500 people long. Immediately I experienced the cross section of my “peers.” In front of me was a Norwegian woman who looked like my aunt.  Behind me was a homeless man.  Or at least he looked like one. I don’t understand the delivery of that summons.

Anyway.  I spend most of the day inside a very large room and encountered several people in my neighborhood, past, present and pharmacy.  My aunt’s friend was even there.  I guess when there are that many people lumped together from one borough, I would be bound to at least recognize someone. My pharmacist at least.

Sitting. Waiting. Sudoku, napping. Jumping to attention whenever TAP B or K10 jurors would be called (whatever that means). One hour lunch and then I got to leave.  But had to come back the next day. Darn.

The next day started at 9:30.  Watched Regis and Kelly.  Read, sudoku.  I hung out with my Aunt’s friend. Taught her how and other various onlookers the art of Sudoku. I actually passed around puzzles to different people and mass taught them how to “play.”

And then the fun happened.  My group (TAP123) went across the street to the fancier courthouse and went up to the 6th floor. And then went down to the 3rd. And then up to the 7th and back the 3rd.  I’m not sure why. But we filed into a courtroom where a judge gave us a brief description of a robbery case.  And I thought, “No murder? No larceny? Not even a little grand theft auto? No thanks!” I didn’t get chosen for the first questioning, so I had some more sitting around picking my nose and reading to do.

2 hour lunch and I got to visit my mom at her work.  That was fun.  Played with little kids.

Back to the court, where they called more people for questioning. I got on this time.  I was actually nervous.  It was so intimidating once I was sitting in the jury panel, 10th seat facing the judge and the DA. But I think after hearing how clean cut, non judgemental I could be, they decided I was inappropriate for the case.  So they asked me to leave.  And then I got to go home.

But all in all, it was fun. I made new friends.  A 72 year old housewife originally from Belgium. A man in his 50s who owns an auto shop but is also a sanitation worker on Staten Island. He is from Pakistan.   An asian man who owns a cleaners and has stinky breath but a delightful sense of humor.  And I got to wear jeans and nap for two days straight. I can’t complain. Except that there was no grand theft auto. But I had a good time.

Back to work.  Booo!

I now own the best slippers in the world:

At first I hated they way they looked. They were ready to be returned. But I was like, hey if they’re going back maybe I should try them on. I put them on. And now I can’t take them off. I don’t want to put on shoes to go out because I don’t want to take them off. Is that normal?

I don’t care. Its delicious.

Tonight, I had thanksgiving dinner.  I went to a friends house, and as if chosen just for me, they decided to select my favorite meal ever.  Its not just the significance and the familial feel, but the food. I can’t think of anything better to eat than turkey and cranberry sauce and sweet potato and brussel sprouts and stuffing. You know I don’t go for the turkey. I go for the sides. Oh and the wine. Lots and lots of it.  From France!

Just thought I’d share my pleasantness of the full belly and the blissed out mind.

It was good.

I can’t really put together a full thought right now.  Weighed down by food and drunk.

Goodnight.

I have made it my goal to control my self- control.  I went through this phase… ok my life before right now I have had a problem with it.  I was going through this “phase” and I was comfortable with it. Enough so that I gave it a nickname. A medical term. “SDSB” or Self Destructive Solitary Behavior.

This is the type of behavior that would let me hang out until 2-3am and eat a half a bag of cookies, and then chips or obsessively do Sudoku puzzles and watch MTV continuously. Or even clean my room starting at midnight and not stop until its done. I never was sad when this was going on; in fact I would enjoy myself.

It wasn’t helping me. All that sugar, lack of sleep, frustration at myself the next day. Its an addiction!  It was time to remove SDSB from my daily habit.

But, do you know how hard it is to stop passively wasting time? Even when you know, like “Oh I have to go to sleep!” its so much easier to find new friends on MySpace. Or watch one more episode of friends.

How does one stop? I am sure there are a few techniques. Like visualization - imagine you are putting all your usual wasted time activities into a bag. Drop every single habit in there.   It could be a brown bag or a “Have a Nice Day” shopping bag, whatever.  Drop them in and close it up.  Then put tape on it.  And throw it out your window. And then write yourself a note, “It’s gone. If you don’t do something productive, you have to do 30 push-ups. And remember how those hurt.”

I didn’t bother with a note this time. I quit cold turkey! Now don’t get me wrong, you can’t just drop all your silly activities - because where is the fun in that?  But its all about controlling the self control. And I am an expert on this now.  Ever since 3 am last night. Just kidding.

“Buzz- buzz, buzz-buzz,” said the alarm at 5am.

Out from under the blankets, Willard stretched out and turned off the alarm. And placed himself in a sitting position. Rubbed eyes and stood up. “Wednesday,” he said outloud and walked to the bathroom.

5:15 he began breakfast, and watched the morning news. Drank a cup of coffee, 2 sugars, 1 teaspoon of milk. He washed the dishes when he was done. And then took the tuna sandwich from the refrigerator made Sunday night. Off he went to work.

7am sharp Willard arrived on his floor at work. He passed by the cooler and took out his mug from his briefcase and filled it with cold water. Walked straight and around the corner he went into his little office.

Willard was an underwriter. Had been one for the last 40 years. Before that he worked in the same department as an administrative assistant for insurance. Willard was very satisfied in his job.

As usual, he marched through his files for the week. Life expectancy, death, health, smokers, fitness freaks, diabetics, perfect health. Variety. Steady. Calculations. Move this paper, check this box, stamp, place in an envelope to the service center. Completed. Next case. Approved.

10am, phone call in, “Hello, Willard? Come into my office when you have a chance.” His boss wanted to see him? He put his case file in a drawer and locked his desk. Closed his office door and proceeded down the hall. Knocked on his boss’ door, “Hi, uh, Dennis, uh you wanted to see me?”

He sat down in front of Dennis and waited. Nervous. What could he have done wrong? He never missed a deadline.

“So Willard, you’ve been with Vester Life Ins Co for a very long time. What has it been 40-45 years?

“Uh, yes 45.” He twisted his hands. What did he want?

“Well, I would like to be the first to congratulate you on your retirement! Friday will be your last day.”

“Retire?”

“Of course you’ll have your retirement package start right away, and keep your health insurance until you can set one up with Medicare.”

“Medicare?”

“And be sure to attend Friday morning meaning with an appetite, you never know what will be served… Any idea what you will do next?”

“Next?”

“Well I am sure you will have a great time. Maybe Florida, right Willy? Well enjoy your last few days; you’ll be missed.” And with that, Dennis stood up and ushered ‘Willy’ out of his office.

With a confused face on, Willard walked back to his office and sat down. “I don’t understand.” And got back to work. Medical reports, medical history, million dollar insurance coverage. Rejection. Approval. Sealed and delivered.

**

The Next Week…

**

“Buzz- buzz, buzz-buzz,” said the alarm at 5am.

Willard got up and stretched. “Monday.” Went to the bathroom, ate his breakfast, coffee with two sugars and milk. And left.

7am, the elevator delivered him to his floor. He passed by the cooler and filled up his mug. He looked up and walked towards his office. He stopped short.

“Congratulations on Retirement!” “Good Luck!” Signs decorated the walls on the way to his office.

He leaned against the wall. “Retirement.” A statement. Baffled. Trying to process, Willard walked back to the elevator bank and went back down.

“Leaving so soon?” questioned the security guard as he passed.

“I guess so.”

He walked out and made a turn to look at his office building. Shrugged, His mind racing, he went to the park across the street. Sat down on a bench and placed his head in his hands. Trying to shut out the sounds, “Congratulations on Retirement, Willard” “Good Luck!” “What are you going to do now?” “Florida?” “Arizona?” Ignoring he looked up. Children running around in the playground before school, screaming. Cars honking, vendors shouting as they set up. Wind blew leaves into his head. Birds chirps. Noise, noise, noise.

Unable to control himself, “What do I do now?????” Willard yelled, finally realizing he was done. After 45 years of going to the same place. “What do I do now?” he said more quietly this time. “What do I do now…” he whispered.

Saturday Morning. Melinda’s Birthday.

Remember when we went to birthday parties as a kid, when were about to leave the mom’s always gave us goodie bags with candy and plastic jewelry and stickers (or matchbox cars and bubble gum)? Melinda got one of those to start her day. Toy bracelets, plastics rings, sticker jewelry tattoos, Swedish fish, and those chocolate gummy bears from the airport. (I should have believed her boyfriend when he told me she likes them, and should have gotten more- oops!)

It would be another busy day, so we couldn’t sit around eating the Swedish fish, instead we took the bag with us.

The Great Lake of Michigan is just large lake. With a park. And a beach only beach. People use it for the beach part only; and no one actually swims in it because of how clean it is- or isn’t.

We strolled along the lakeside for a little while. Passed by people laying in the grass, surrounded by bike riders and runners, Frisbee players and picnics. Melinda pointed out lake view property that she had been to for social gatherings, and we discussed real estate prices. For $300,000 you could buy a small house on Long Island, a nice sized condo overlooking Lake Michigan, or a 400 square foot studio in the heart of Queens. Or an enormous house in Binghamton, New York.

The park had a lagoon also. Here, we rented a paddleboat. A paddleboat sits two people facing the same way and the passengers peddle to move forward. And one person steers with a very pathetic knob. (That one person would be me).

As we signed away any liabilities, we got into the boat and paddled up the lagoon. Steering is a special job. A job that meant I took blame of the inflexibility of the boat, of the inflexibility of the Pathetic Knob. I started to feel very panicky when we couldn’t turn around against the slight current and we were about to float into the “Do not Pass” zone. We might have ended up in no-man’s land! No-man’s water. Ignoring the abuse from my co-paddler, I worked the handle to turn us, worked it as if we were about to reach the end of the world. (Were we going to get stuck in this water forever? How would I get home in time if I couldn’t turn us around??) To shut her up, I made Melinda take over, since it looked so easy to her. I felt relief when she didn’t take us any farther. That could have been embarrassing. I took the steer back, and eventually (with panic ignored), turned us around. And we paddled back to the front. I didn’t want to go anymore because I didn’t want to have to turn around again. Eventually Melinda let me leave the lagoon, with this nice man helped us out of the boat. What nice Wiscosin people, I thought.

*****

Miller Brewing Company was the next stop. beer named “Miller.” Just Miller period.

Since the Cubs were in town, and all the fans went to the same few touristy places we did, we were amongst a very large crowd.

On the tour of the factory, I learned how the beer tends to be college and old man juice. But its always Miller time if you want it to be. We saw a movie. And went on a tour. The facilities were mostly shut down since it was the weekend.

The best, and the most important part was the last stop. Here, I got completely plastered. Smashed. Wasted. Millered. The time when everything is funny. And the beer was delicious!

Melinda left me in the gift shop whilst she helped out a Chicago family, who’s car battery needed a jump.

Melinda found me 10 minutes later, wandering around in circles, laughing at the t-shirts and signs to myself. “Its Miller time! Hahahahah.” She convinced me to take pictures with the life size beer bottles, laughed at me, and then dragged me to the car.

****

After hanging out and sobering up, we made a birthday dinner and took a walk to the Marquette University Campus. It was dark and dreary and quiet, since it was a Saturday afternoon in summer. We walked around and saw buidlings and small grassy knolls and trees. Very exciting. The coolest place was in the law school building. They had a coffee shop there called “Legal Grounds.”

Since it is a city campus, the campus is mingled with the city. So the buildings are mainly on one stretch of road. And the campus bar is around the corner from Walgreens. And near a burger joint called George Webb’s (the place that gives out 5 burgers for a $1 if the Brewer’s win a game).

Then we went back home for guests to arrive.

Before I came, Mel baked herself a 2-tiered cake that I helped frost later (cinnamon cake with cream cheese frosting). On the evening of her birthday she had a few friend’s over. As she tended to her guests, I put candles on this cake. I had a box of candles and an inspiration: Wouldn’t it be great to write “Happy Birthday” in candles? That translates to: Wouldn’t it be great if I tried to put all the candles on the cake even if they don’t fit? And so when you try to light all of them, you can burn your fingers and knock a few candles over and make a huge mess? I am a very smart girl.

After the decoration (of the now slightly lopsided cake) I brought the glowing pastry out and we sang happy birthday. And then we sang a round of happy birthday in three different languages (French, Hebrew and Spanish… where else?).

****

I had long ago been forewarned that we would be going to a bar named “Safe House.” Everytime Melinda would mention it when we were in Milwaukee, people would either say “First time?” and giggle. Or they would start to ask “Do you know the -” and Melinda would cut them off.

I felt nervous before we went there. A lot of comments about passwords, and hushed responses, “don’t say anything” and “initiation.” The entrance to this illustrious bar was in an alleyway. I was expecting a guy in a window at the top of a huge door overlooking customers. But we just waited online to get in the door. And I heard more talk about passwords.
So we paid out fee, and the girls whispered something in the lady at the counter’s ear and she let them in, after yelling “She doesn’t know the password!” and giggling as they ran inside.

So I didn’t know the password, eh? What happened to me then? Well I was given hula hoop and was told to use it. So I hula-ed. And this happens to be a talent of mine. I was grounded for two solid months, and aside from teaching myself to juggle with one hand, I taught myself to hula like a professional. So, this was fun. I rotated my hips until this gypsy-like-lady told me it was OK to “go in.”

Going in. Going in an automatic wooden door. Shut behind me. It was dark. I walked straight, kind of scared, because I was alone. And I followed the directions on the wall, and nothing happened for like a minute, and while I thought I would get stuck in there forever, the wall opened. And there stood my people. Waiting for me at the bar. And laughing.

They saw everything I did from the TV on the wall! On TVs throughout the bar. Spy vision.

Safe House is a spy themed bar; it was so cool. Aside from typical spy named drinks, the whole decor had puzzles and toys to play with. You could spy on people in the bathroom.

The password to get in is even written on the wall somewhere, but I won’t tell you, just in case you one day go.

The best part is the exit. I knew what would happen, and because of that, I couldn’t wait to leave. See, there is a regular door that you can just walk out of. But if you happen to have a quarter, you walk into this secret room to a payphone. Pick the phone up, put the quarter in. You stand in this very dim, cement hallway and listen, “This is your mission, should you chose to except, at the sound of the tone press “8765″. And you do. And this door opened up with a bang. And you walk down an even scarier dim hallway. And something behind us jumped. And I jumped. And ran to the door. And out into the same alleyway that we started in!

Melinda’s Birthday party was over, so we went home and went to sleep. Sunday I would wake up and take the plane home. And my Wisconsin Adventure would be over!