Category: humor

I’ve been listening to KPOP for a year.  Now, please let me explain…

Published on by cmglife

Last summer, while still having ketamine infusions for my TRD, something wasn’t right.  I had gone nine weeks instead of seven and could not get on top of the depression (more about that in an upcoming post). I read that physical exercise is one way to increase glutamate levels.

After researching, Beat Saber, a VR game, was recommended.  Blocks fly to the music’s beat and you hit them away to the beat. 

It was great; for an hour, the music masked the fact that I was exercising, and sweating became a fascination. The faster I was able to go, the higher my heart rate and the more I sweated.  When it started to run into my eyes and drench my hair, I felt strangely triumphant.

Inevitably, the music the game offered began to bore me. I refused to give up, and after a few days, I learned how to upload my own songs.  I searched “best dancing songs”, and BTS came up.  I cannot sing to any of them – my Korean has never improved – but I can hum along, and I do recognize the different song titles now.

And that explains why I’m listening to KPOP. Is it similar to my Adam Lambert craze? No, I really have no explanation for that one.

How to Calculate Lifespan in Stamps and Checks

Published on by cmglife

First Calculation (Stamps):

I was asked to mail a document recently with an original signature. I had used my last stamp at Christmas, so I bought 2 books 40 stamps. I felt uneasy when I did the math and realized that based on use, the stamps might outlive me.

1 stamp x 30 yrs = 30 stamps (10 leftover)

Second Calculation (Checks):

I was asked to submit a voided check for direct deposit. I haven’t had a checkbook in over 10 yrs, so I went to my bank in person and asked for 4. I used the same stamp formula.

1 check x 3 decades = 3 checks (1 leftover)

I think it’s obvious I did not use an official actuarial table, but I feel pretty good about my lifespan represented in stamps and temporary checks.

Link to an actual actuarial table: https://www.ssa.gov/oact/STATS/table4c6.htm

A little context might help……

Published on by cmglife

Please turn your volume on to enjoy this sillines.

Picture this: It’s the end of the year at our middle school. The 8th graders cannot contain their wanderlust and are constantly slipping out of classrooms with some lame excuse and without a pass.

Enter Mr. Wood, 8th Grade Social Studies teacher. He is fed up with the blatant disregard for such a simple rule that has been drilled into every student since their start in 6th Grade.

Mr. Wood set up shop in the intersection of the 7th and 8th grade hallways to question anyone within his sights.

When approaching this formidable check point I couldn’t help but giggle because with each footstep the theme music from Jaws and High Noon would start to play in my head.

I went around and showed the videos to staff and some students, giggling the whole time.

I know I got more joy from the videos than anyone else and I am proud of myself for just being myself.

Please don’t do that, middle schoolers are watching…

Published on by cmglife

We have a new vice principal at my school. He is a very nice man. He is really enthusiastic with the kids as well as the staff. Having said that, and if you’ve read some of my other posts, you know I am an introvert most of the time. I challenge you to take the pop quiz below relating to the choices I am given to greet our vice principal.

I would rather:

A. Fist Bump

B. Hug

C. High Five

D. Learn fancy “dance” handshake.

E. None of the Above

The Accidental Kindness of Strangers

Published on by cmglife

Yesterday I backed into a car while attempting to get into a parking space.

I got out of my car and we looked at the damage. I had dented and cracked his bike rack. No damage to mine. The man wasn’t very nice and actually said, “You’re not going to skip out on this are you?” He stated this in several different ways several times. The nerve!

Side Note: I did not have a terrible reaction the way I used to when I did something wrong. My eyes only filled with tears and lips quivered. Almost, but not quite, my face began to crumple into “oh god I’m going to cry” phase. Honestly I’m not ashamed of any of that. I think that would be a normal reaction to an unpleasant situation.

While standing there trying to keep my calm, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was the director of the event I was working. He asked if I was alright. He had such a genuine look of concern, a few more tears leaked out. He asked if I needed to go home he would understand. I said I would be alright and he gave me a hug.

On my way into the event someone else approached me to ask how I was and she gave me a hug.

Half way through the event a volunteer checked in to see if I needed anything and I got another hug.

When the event was over the director came by again and I thanked him . I said I couldn’t believe how kind everyone was and how much it meant to me that I wasn’t standing there in the middle of the street alone.

This maybe a bit dramatic, but it was human nature, as it could be and was that in that moment.

This accident was no accident. The more I think about it, to experience kindness and worth as a human being, well, was worth the deductible.

Tiles for everthing!

Published on by cmglife

Is it paranoia to suspect I have gremlins following me around moving things I have just put down?  I wasn’t paranoid before, years ago, but I didn’t have that problem then.  I’ve put “Tiles” on my two sets of keys and my purse, my most lost items.  I think I’ve already saved a couple of searching hours in the last month.

I’ve lost my wedding ring, my work keys, $1400 in cash to name a few. It’s like I spend time thinking where I should put these valuable items and then immediately forget. It’s like when I change a password, if I don’t immediately put in in my phone, I forget it. Then I have to change it a second time.

I know it is a side effect of my Bipolar condition. Memory loss. It feels more like memory slipping through my fingers.

I make jokes at work when something is missing, “have you looked in my safe place”. Of course there is no such place. More like a black hole of important never to be seen again items.

I did track down where I had left my work keys. I threw them in the trash with a plastic drop cloth I was using for painting. So now I have to lurk around waiting for another coworker so I can follow them in, or have to ring the bell. How humiliating.

Then there was the $1400 cash.  I had my furnace fixed and confidently when upstairs to get cash to pay the invoice.  I went directly to an old purse hanging in my closet. The money wasn’t there because the purse was gone, I had given it to Goodwill the week before! I frantically called Goodwill and told them my story and could they look for it.  The manager was wonderful and said she would do what she could.

While I was waiting for her to call back with triumph in her voice, I began to think. Round and round in my head, searching for a clue in my overworked brain that would lead me to another tenuous memory. Waiting for that revelation when the clues finally lead me to the money. I rummaged through everything for hours. Even places I knew the money couldn’t possibly be.

Then it happened (angel’s chorus).  I looked at the picture on my wall and all the gears slid into place. I had hidden the money behind the picture frame!  It must’ve taken it out before I put the purse in the pile for goodwill.

I love it when I am that smart! I just wish it wasn’t wasted on my scatterbrainess (made up word). I called up Goodwill and thanked them profusely.

I don’t think it’s going to end or get any better, and I haven’t come up with a system to fix it yet. Well, that may not be true. I haven’t tried attaching Tiles to all my important items with glue dots.

Lucky Find

Published on by cmglife

What a find nestled between my many colored pens! This newly found pricey long lasting lip gloss has been given a new life!

I know a lot of women will recognize the “EPH” (SEPHORA) on the side. If you are a person, like me, that will only bring cash and leave my cards at home when going to Costco, don’t even enter SEPHORA .  You’ll involuntarily spend at least $65 by just crossing the threshold!

Sin City – Day 3 (Last Entry)

Published on by cmglife

Sin City – Day 3

After lunch on the third day in Vegas, we went down to Fremont Street where I convinced John to try the oxygen “rip off” bar. Then he stood on the huge scale in front of a hamburger restaurant. He weighed in at 216. He looked so dejected that I ran up and took the packages from his hands and he ended up at 206.

On the second day of the dirt track races, I decided not to go and nobody was surprised.  I had the whole night planned.  First I would get a drink and play the slot machines by myself.  Big move for me doing anything by myself, but for some reason I felt confident. Then I would go back up to the room, take a bath, have some wine and do some writing.  I was really looking forward to some alone downtime.

Around six o’clock, everyone left for the races and I began my plan. Before he left, John had bought a margarita for me.  He warned it was strong because he had seen the bartender put two shots of tequila in it.  I drink too fast and eat too fast. So after guzzling the one John got for me, I had another free one the waitress gave me.  Big mistake…. I ended up drunk!  I did make it back up to the hotel room by myself. It was a bit creepy walking down the long lonely “Stanley Hotel” hallway. I made it without being kidnapped or murdered.

When I got into the room I lay down on the bed and passed out!  It was 7pm.

Sin City

Published on by cmglife

Day 1

John was invited to Las Vegas by his daughter, Ashley, who lives in North Dakota. His son in law was in a huge race that weekend. John didn’t see it coming when I said was going too. I am known as a “stick in the mud” among his North Dakota family. Me? Going to Las Vegas and to watch dirt track racing (whatever the hell that was)! I just wanted to get away and do something different.

John began to interrogate me, I was getting a little irritated.

“Are you sure you want to go? It’s going to be really cold during the race.”

“Are you sure you want to go? It’s going to be really dusty during the race.”

“Are you sure you want to go? We’re going to be staying up really late.”

I’m not sure if he was trying to protect me from the cold, dust and lateness or thought I was going to cramp his style. I guess we’ll never know because I went.

This time John made all the travel arrangements. I didn’t know when we were leaving or even what airline we were flying. Turned out we were flying Spirit Airlines. I didn’t care that I had never heard of them until we got onto the plane and looked at the approximately 1 foot between the ripped and worn seats. I am not tall and even my knees barely fit. The passenger next to me sat down and we immediately became very intimate, rubbing knees and shoulders. This passenger turned out to be named Chad, an entrepreneur in ATM machines, custom motorcycles and the owner of his very own pot shop! Fascinating conversation ensued.

We made it to the hotel and got settled in and, of course, went down to the casino to drink and gamble all of our money away.  When I first got there I was stuck to John like glue (social anxiety). He plays black jack and so does Ashley. I don’t have enough confidence or concentration to play. I must have stood there for an hour watching them not being able to venture out among the other gamblers by myself. It’s a good thing I stand all day….an hour was nothing! I ended up making it to 12:30 until I went up to bed. I thought that was pretty good considering what a “stick in the mud” I am.

By the way-I’m going to drag out this Las Vegas story for all its worth,  Day 2 coming soon!

Old Navy Humiliation

Published on by cmglife

Oh, no! Not another weight issue post! Sorry, but it is so. Today, though, it is justified.

Today I was in Old Navy. I saw a dress that I thought could double as a tunic with leggings. I held it up lengthwise to check the length. It was good on the length but seemed a bit wide so I measured it against my hips and it was fine. I put it over my arm with the other items I had selected.

After fifteen minutes of looking around for Allison I went to the dressing rooms to see if she’d ended up there. I called her name at each door to no avail. The sales girls were very nice and said they would keep an eye out for her as well. I was almost to the point of doing an “ALL CALL” over the inter com. Seconds from having them lock the doors and call 911 she turned up with one of the sales girls. I was so relived, but played it cool. “Oh, there you are”, I said casually.

We walked toward the dressing room through the maternity section, didn’t know they had a maternity section actually. Obviously, because that was where I has selected my tunic. Oh, the humiliation!