March 1, 2008
I’ve never been handicapped before. Except for when I joke and say I’m crippled by the shoes I’m wearing. And I used to think losing your voice was cool. A little sexy.
But as of yesterday, I realize how much I took for granted. The conversation, the singing in the shower, the “yes, I would like fries with that,” the “do you have any lemons”? I miss it all. I have so much to say, but I can’t say it!! It comes out as a poor little squeak. Like the joking yelling sounds when you immitate a stadium or concert. I am a hoarse.
Last evening I went to dinner with three of my friends. They all know me quite well enough in their own individual ways that someone had to understand me. But the charade loses its fun after a while. Its all fun and games until someone loses their voice.
Anyway, back to my handicap. I have done everything since I woke up this morning to change this blog title to “Stella got her voice back” But it didn’t work. I drank tea. I drank tea with honey. I drank tea with 2 spoonfuls of raspberry preserves and a slice of lemon that I let float, I gargled (or as my mom liked to type “I googled”) with salt water, I took a nap, I had vitamin C, cough medicine, cough drops, sudafed, hot shower and steamed, steamed, drank water, oj (peed until the fluid came out of my ears) . Its just not there!!!
Does this mean I get the handicap special seating on the busses and trains? No! Because I can’t ask for it!!
I feel like Rose from the titanic - come back. Come back. come backkkk.
February 5, 2008
Today is SUCH a big day!!! Voting, Mardi Gras anddddddddd a stupid parade! I cannot contain my excitment! And I am not voting, nor am i parading, but I do have mardi gras beads on my desk left over from my last new orleans trip.
Just felt like sharing.
December 18, 2006
I finally understand how you feel about the city now. Yesterday I spent all day looking for gifts for people. And I just felt like crying and going home halfway through. It probably didn’t help that I wasn’t successful during the first half of my day, not finding anything that I wanted and having to deal with crowds. But all I wanted was peace and space. And fresh air. I wanted the taxis to take people to Long Island. Or New Jersey. I wanted everyone to tiptoe around me and cover their mouths for 10 minutes before and after walking past me.
I thought about the mouth holding thing for a while. Its the most efficient way of, not only quiet, but bad breath and germs spread. And it would serve as a quiet reminder.
Internet shopping could have been a good alternate for me. But then they have their own stipulations. Pay $100 dollars and your order will be here in time for the holidays. Pay $0 and your order will arrive after December 25th. Guaranteed! Pay $6 and your order will arrive between 2-12 days, shipping will occur in 4-5 days, so your order will arrive after December 25th. Guaranteed!
Do you know what would help me? See if you can make this. A machine. You type into a computer console what you need. “White linen tablecloth with yellow and green butterflies, please.” Must be polite, must be specific. It will respond “doodoo-doo.” 25 minutes later, the back will open, spit out your table cloth and close up.
And its free. Well free for me, because I am the creator. But free after the initial purchase, a good investment. Let me know how it comes out.
December 3, 2006
He wakes up at 8:59 am sharp. Nudges Rita, “Rita, aren’t you getting up?”
“I know, I know, I’m going.”
He waits for her to finish using the bathroom, and runs in. Time for Earl’s shower. Ritual cleansing. Make sure you get the ears, the middle of the back, the scalp. Wash. Cold water. Hot water and wash again.
Dry off, Ammens powder body and bathroom. Wash hands and face and bathroom.
White t-shirt with white chest hair curling out over the top. And Khaki shorts. And Eddie Bauer flip flips with ammens powder on the bottom.
9:45, Earl sits down and pours himself a half of cup of cheerios. Layered on top is either shredded wheat or Kashi. He eats that. Then comes coffee that Rita brings out. He pours a little milk in, swirls it in the cup with a spoon making little tinking sounds.
Sunday morning is politics morning in the Zoof house. Over coffee it starts. Earl takes a sip, takes a cookie. Eats it. “Everybody is running, they must’ve called every single senator, governor, governor’s son, lawyer in the whole damn country.”
“Um-hm” Rita drinking her coffee, not looking up from her magazine. Eating a milano.
Second cup of coffee, “They kicked California’s governor out of office for an idiot. They should do that for the current idiot. They’re all idiots those politicians.” A few more cookies. He keeps speaking about the government and how their incompentent fools running it and everyone is a fool and Clinton was the best thing that happened to the country.
Earl finishes his coffee and brings the cup into the kitchen, with his dirty napkin and goes to sit down in front of the tv. Rita picks up his plate and cleans up the rest of the table.
For the next two hours Earl sits in his leather recliner, yells at the TV about political action as others debate logically in the TV studio. Rita sits at her computer and plays solitaire or word games mindlessly.
Click-click, Click-click, Click-click, Click-click, Click-click, Click-click. “Click-click” syncopating with “He’s an idiot, get them out of Iraq, You McGraw don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re an idiot.”
Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click. Idiot. Click-click.
Sunday morning in the Zoof household.
September 20, 2006
What am I doing with my life here? I feel like I am wasting space going to work, going to the gym, returning things, sleeping and eating. OK to so I feel alive when I work a really angry client down to a happy client but all the other BS sucks. And I am stuck in the rut in the world of studying. Do I continue? Do I want to continue? Do I just suck it up and do it even if I am not sure. But there are so many other thngs that I want to do that take up all the time. And the books are so heavy, my shoulders are killing me.
And I don’t want to make copies of my books and take the copies with me. There is so much to read, I feel like I will be at the copy machine forever. And why are my friends so behind me and so encouraging to me to keep working at it? Maybe because they think its what I want to do and if they lean just a little to saying “well, if you don’t want to do it…” that I will give up. They’re probably right. But why do they have to be so supportive? For this one thing?
I guess I just want to give up. Its easier. The only thing I know for sure I want to do is write. And that too is annoying and very quitable. But not permanently. Whenever I get pissed off at it, or want to not write for a while, I always come back. Even if I write crap, its something I feel good about doing.
So why can’t I write structurally? Why can’t I write articles and mail them to newspapers? Because I am shy? Because I am afraid of success? NO! I am lazy. LAZY. And I keep thinking that, its my job that is in the way, preventing me from doing this. NO! I am lazy.
And laziness is annoying. I am telling myself that. And laziness, for me, is ironic. Why? Because this year, more than ever I have accomplished (and I deserve that word) things that I never thought I could. I have succeeded at anything that I decided I would do. Need an example. I took a financial exam. A hard one. One that you have the ability to take three times because its so easy to fail. One that I took amoungst those who have financial backround. With a non-financial mind, and a education in things like philosophy and law, I studied to comprehend these concepts and facts that I never even imagined beforehand and Passed! And did really well too!
And then I ran that race 2 weeks ago. And ran the entire 3 miles. Extra special, because I can remember in Junior High when you had to run 4 laps around the school, and all 3 years there I could only make the one, barely. And in training, it hurt so bad to get to the 2 mile mark. But I did 3 miles. I did it. I can be proud.
So why can’t I do this? Anything big? Make a decision and be happy with my life? Maybe I can. Maybe this is a pep talk to myself in disguise. Maybe I should stop being angry at myself and stop being lazy and do something?
Maybe I will.
