My wife today made a crack about being addicted to Facebook. She makes a lot of those cracks - and quite often - about just about everything I do. From my video games to my cookie indulgences, I seem to be an addict over something.
Of course, these are things I like to do. So, of course she's going to see me doing some things at least once, and maybe twice a day. Admittedly though, my timing could be better at times...such as when I start playing when she's on her way out the door...without the kids. Or when I start munching on cookies about a half hour from when she'd planned on serving dinner. Or when she and I had planned a time to be tender together...and I have a memory lapse and start crushing zombie skulls on the computer.
Last one's a true story, by the way, from several years ago. Boy, she was angry...couldn't sleep with her for a week. There were withdrawls from a completely different addiction there, but let's not go there in front of (potentially) civil company.
So, why is it she's focused pretty tightly on Facebook? It's a new tool I've personally discovered. Just like with anything new in front of me, I want to play around with it some. In the past month, I've found a lot of old friends from high school, newer friends from the college, and both from my online gaming. It's been interesting seeing what all they've been up to, their families, their friends...their gross fascinations.
I'm serious, one of the links someone in this circle of friends put up was to this video of a guy getting his boil lanced. Holy Filthing Poo Storm, it was the nastiest thing I've seen out here...and I've seen a lot of nasty stuff prior to this near-vomitous experience. Worse was the description of the smell associated, and the wretching girls in the background who were supposed to be taking care of this mess.
If you're at all curious as to what I'm talking about - and you have the stomach for it - you can look here, but don't say I didn't warn you. Oh Lord, I am tempted to watch it again...*shudders*
But anyways, the question still presents itself, am I an addict on Facebook? Actually, that's a no, but only on the borderline. The underlying addiction is to electronic gadgetry, to which there are limitless applications. Facebook is simply one of them, and it's quite popular. It's also one of those things I swore I wouldn't get myself into, just like Pokemon and twitter and blogs. And we all know how that turned out.
Oh Lord, did I just admit to Pokemon too? Oh no...
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Trip to Grants Pass Turns into Fiasco
Those of you who've been following me on twitter (madrakaetrus) or Facebook or at the Forums of Imperial Draconia, as well as those of you from the ULGG High Council will recall recently that I popped over to Grants Pass for a visit with my ailing Grandfather. Well, here's the trip, in detail.
Late Start
Frankly, I am beginning to lose patience with my mother. She was the one at the helm on this trip, and she had stated the night before that we would head out in the late morning. Cool, just Mom and I heading out to catch Grandpa one last time. Heaven knows, with all that's eating at him, it'd probably be my last chance.
So, I set an alarm up, so I am ready in late morning, which for me is around 10 AM. I gather some belongings and pack up so I'm ready to go immediately after I eat breakfast. I even take the time to buy an early one way ticket back on the Greyhound, as I can only take one day away from work for this, and Mom intends on staying there for a while. I work my graveyard shift, cleaning the filth out of the athletic club I work at, and get off early enough to get a decent amount of sleep. I'm up promptly at the sound of the alarm, I get dressed, I get my pre-packed stuff together, and I eat. And she's not even ready to go.
Ever since a crippling diabetic coma a couple years ago, she's had to deal with the nerve trauma associated with high blood sugar damage. She gets phantom pains akin to electric shock throughout her extremities now, and the pain keeps her awake beyond any reasonable means. I feel for her, but it has made her an extremely unreliable person when it comes down to it. I can never be sure if she'll be up for anything, and today that is proven yet again. I'm ready to go, and if it were me driving south, we'd be out the door straightaway. But she had been up all night, and I'm unsure when - or even if - she fell asleep. I have to wait 4 1/2 additional hours before we depart. But that's ok. We'll have a few hours to spend with Grandpa, right?
Fertilizer Special at Wal-Mart Pharmacy
Well, fertilizer isn't as accurate as the word I'd use in this situation, but chances are there are going to be children present with their parents when reading this, so I'm keeping it as clean as I can.
So, we finally get out the door, and then Mom mentions that we would have to pick up a prescription at the Wal-Mart Pharmacy before leaving town. Fair enough; it'll be the last chance to get some of her more critical pain meds for 3 days. But, this is where the fertilizer hits the fan.
The pharmacy makes us wait an hour. AN HOUR!!! For filth's sake, we're already far behind schedule, and they can't get their act together! Mind you, I understand that they don't know this. But come on, a filthing hour?! Just to take a few packs of meds, sort 'em, and put 'em in a bag? They weren't even very blooming busy! There were but 3 or 4 other people in line with us. I ask you, why would this take more than 5 minutes a person, let alone one hour for 5 people?
Now I start to worry that there won't be much time for anything at all down there. We're finally on the road South, and it's 4 PM. Can this get much worse?
Yes It Can! And It Smells!
We now go to call ahead and tell my aunt we're on our way. The cell has plenty of power, though at only one bar of energy, forget the marathon calls. However, I dial the number, and I get this message that all the money on the phone has expired. This angers Mom something fierce, as she has had nothing but problems with all the cell phones she's ever been given in her life. I have to reassure this very close to road raging driver that we should just let it go, and we should just focus on getting there. I've never heard her curse more in my life, and more than once, she threatened to throw the phone out the window.
Admittedly, the trip down wasn't bad. Mom and I enjoyed some conversation, and the views were very nice. I didn't even reach once for my DS system the whole trip down, it was so enjoyable. But one thing I don't recommend is to ride in a sports car more than one hour at a time. Mom's Del Sol is a sweet ride. Good engine, nice sound system, hard-top convertible roof...but forget sitting in it for long periods at a time. Those low seats sure play hell on your back. We had to stop at a rest station just to give our lower spines time to straighten out again. After working hard all the previous night, I wasn't expecting my back to hurt like this again just sitting around.
After 2 1/2 hours, we finally arrive in Grants Pass, and restock on fuel. If we would have had to drive another 10 minutes or so, we'd have probably been stranded. We spend 30 more minutes there. Not just because we need the gas, and not only because Mom needs a smoke break, but also because we lost the keys in between getting out of the car, and paying for the gas. How do we lose the keys in a 10 minute stretch of time where we're just standing around?
At this point, we go straight to the hospital. It's my only opportunity to go see Grandpa this trip, and I'm thinking that it's more than likely my last. So we get there, and it's clear across town from where we came in. We get in, we go up to the floor he's on...and he's not there. We ask the nurses where he was, and they have no clue. So they look him up on their computers, and he had been discharged sometime in the afternoon. Discharged. My aunt makes it sound like he's on his deathbed, and he's been discharged back to his home.
Unfortunately at this point, he's better off there. It was confirmed that the cancer had spread, and that he is very tired. He is 93 after all, and is probably getting fed up with all of this. My head says it's for the best, but emotionally we're both wrecks. Mom curses the phone again quite lividly, and borrows the hospital phone to tell my aunt we've arrived safely.
At this point, it'd be unsafe to travel the roads up to Grandpa's countryside home, so we bunk with my aunt and her family and live-in boyfriend for the night. I get some Wendy's for my trouble, and get to talk with my cousin about her pending freshman year in high school. But with an early morning departure from the bus station, Grandpa's not gonna be seeing me this time around.
So, a restless night, and a 2 1/2 hour bus trip later, I'm home again...and a couple days later, I get the chance to blog it. That whole mess left me more than a bit empty. I just hope the next time I get to go out there, I'll be able to spend the time I want with my Grandfather. I swore to myself I would not lose the chance to properly say goodbye. I lost my Grandmother 4 years ago, and did not have that chance. I hope that by the next paycheck, I'll be able to make the trip again, by myself if need be.
I just hope by then it's not too late.
Late Start
Frankly, I am beginning to lose patience with my mother. She was the one at the helm on this trip, and she had stated the night before that we would head out in the late morning. Cool, just Mom and I heading out to catch Grandpa one last time. Heaven knows, with all that's eating at him, it'd probably be my last chance.
So, I set an alarm up, so I am ready in late morning, which for me is around 10 AM. I gather some belongings and pack up so I'm ready to go immediately after I eat breakfast. I even take the time to buy an early one way ticket back on the Greyhound, as I can only take one day away from work for this, and Mom intends on staying there for a while. I work my graveyard shift, cleaning the filth out of the athletic club I work at, and get off early enough to get a decent amount of sleep. I'm up promptly at the sound of the alarm, I get dressed, I get my pre-packed stuff together, and I eat. And she's not even ready to go.
Ever since a crippling diabetic coma a couple years ago, she's had to deal with the nerve trauma associated with high blood sugar damage. She gets phantom pains akin to electric shock throughout her extremities now, and the pain keeps her awake beyond any reasonable means. I feel for her, but it has made her an extremely unreliable person when it comes down to it. I can never be sure if she'll be up for anything, and today that is proven yet again. I'm ready to go, and if it were me driving south, we'd be out the door straightaway. But she had been up all night, and I'm unsure when - or even if - she fell asleep. I have to wait 4 1/2 additional hours before we depart. But that's ok. We'll have a few hours to spend with Grandpa, right?
Fertilizer Special at Wal-Mart Pharmacy
Well, fertilizer isn't as accurate as the word I'd use in this situation, but chances are there are going to be children present with their parents when reading this, so I'm keeping it as clean as I can.
So, we finally get out the door, and then Mom mentions that we would have to pick up a prescription at the Wal-Mart Pharmacy before leaving town. Fair enough; it'll be the last chance to get some of her more critical pain meds for 3 days. But, this is where the fertilizer hits the fan.
The pharmacy makes us wait an hour. AN HOUR!!! For filth's sake, we're already far behind schedule, and they can't get their act together! Mind you, I understand that they don't know this. But come on, a filthing hour?! Just to take a few packs of meds, sort 'em, and put 'em in a bag? They weren't even very blooming busy! There were but 3 or 4 other people in line with us. I ask you, why would this take more than 5 minutes a person, let alone one hour for 5 people?
Now I start to worry that there won't be much time for anything at all down there. We're finally on the road South, and it's 4 PM. Can this get much worse?
Yes It Can! And It Smells!
We now go to call ahead and tell my aunt we're on our way. The cell has plenty of power, though at only one bar of energy, forget the marathon calls. However, I dial the number, and I get this message that all the money on the phone has expired. This angers Mom something fierce, as she has had nothing but problems with all the cell phones she's ever been given in her life. I have to reassure this very close to road raging driver that we should just let it go, and we should just focus on getting there. I've never heard her curse more in my life, and more than once, she threatened to throw the phone out the window.
Admittedly, the trip down wasn't bad. Mom and I enjoyed some conversation, and the views were very nice. I didn't even reach once for my DS system the whole trip down, it was so enjoyable. But one thing I don't recommend is to ride in a sports car more than one hour at a time. Mom's Del Sol is a sweet ride. Good engine, nice sound system, hard-top convertible roof...but forget sitting in it for long periods at a time. Those low seats sure play hell on your back. We had to stop at a rest station just to give our lower spines time to straighten out again. After working hard all the previous night, I wasn't expecting my back to hurt like this again just sitting around.
After 2 1/2 hours, we finally arrive in Grants Pass, and restock on fuel. If we would have had to drive another 10 minutes or so, we'd have probably been stranded. We spend 30 more minutes there. Not just because we need the gas, and not only because Mom needs a smoke break, but also because we lost the keys in between getting out of the car, and paying for the gas. How do we lose the keys in a 10 minute stretch of time where we're just standing around?
At this point, we go straight to the hospital. It's my only opportunity to go see Grandpa this trip, and I'm thinking that it's more than likely my last. So we get there, and it's clear across town from where we came in. We get in, we go up to the floor he's on...and he's not there. We ask the nurses where he was, and they have no clue. So they look him up on their computers, and he had been discharged sometime in the afternoon. Discharged. My aunt makes it sound like he's on his deathbed, and he's been discharged back to his home.
Unfortunately at this point, he's better off there. It was confirmed that the cancer had spread, and that he is very tired. He is 93 after all, and is probably getting fed up with all of this. My head says it's for the best, but emotionally we're both wrecks. Mom curses the phone again quite lividly, and borrows the hospital phone to tell my aunt we've arrived safely.
At this point, it'd be unsafe to travel the roads up to Grandpa's countryside home, so we bunk with my aunt and her family and live-in boyfriend for the night. I get some Wendy's for my trouble, and get to talk with my cousin about her pending freshman year in high school. But with an early morning departure from the bus station, Grandpa's not gonna be seeing me this time around.
So, a restless night, and a 2 1/2 hour bus trip later, I'm home again...and a couple days later, I get the chance to blog it. That whole mess left me more than a bit empty. I just hope the next time I get to go out there, I'll be able to spend the time I want with my Grandfather. I swore to myself I would not lose the chance to properly say goodbye. I lost my Grandmother 4 years ago, and did not have that chance. I hope that by the next paycheck, I'll be able to make the trip again, by myself if need be.
I just hope by then it's not too late.
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