Pearl

Do not try to describe a new haircut to a hairstylist to try the day before you leave for a trip out of town.

Just trust me on this one.

If you do try a new haircut, don't let her spray hairspray on it and then get you hair so sweaty it has to be dried with the hairdryer.

You will end up with butch hair and no time to have her fix the cut.

Not that I would know anything about a situation like this.

It's even worse for an asymmetrical cut.

I have no more to add on this topic, since it's theoretical.

 

 

Not my ear

Way back when my journal was just in its infancy I wrote an entry about a visit I once made to my doctor's off-hours clinic. I had thought I had an ear infection, and the nurse misunderstood me. I didn't understand why she asked me if it burned, and she didn't understand why I said loud noises were painful. We came to a meeting of the minds when she handed me a plastic cup. I then announced, "NO! Not a urine infection! An ear infection!"

This time I have been consistently saying my ear doesn't bother me, although the doctors have been telling me it does and is the cause of my vertigo. It doesn't feel like it's my ear, it feels more like the center of my head. But I figured the inner ear isn't that far from the center, so I must be off a few centimeters. Still, no pain or discomfort in my ear, although the vertigo can knock me almost off my feet at times. I cannot stand still - I weave like a happy drunk sometimes. I make other people dizzy who are trying to converse with me and keep eye contact.

So, today I went and had all the lovely, time-consuming tests for my ears. I had cool and warm air blown into each ear twice, and each time caused intense dizziness. I had been warned by others who have had this done that I might lose a meal. Or two. ST suggested I have grape juice and avacado after I mentioned that I might want to go for an interesting splatter pattern. Lucky for all involved, I didn't get very nauseated. I was glad for that, since I forgot to pack a second set of clothes, just in case.

I was made to wear a high tech head piece during the air tests, and also during another test while I tracked a light on a light bar. I wasn't too far into the tests when I realized that as annoying as they were, both ears felt about the same. Uh oh, I was thinking, what does this mean? Am I off in my thoughts or are they both having issues, or neither?

I was wired up to electrodes onto my face, neck, hand, and throat. Some test was done that way to see something that happens on my neck muscles that relates to the inner ear. After that, I had another hearing test. Then the doctor evaluated me, at least 3 hours after the first test began.

There is nothing wrong with my ears besides some asymmetrical hearing loss. I have lost hearing in my right ear, as I already knew. My dizziness is not caused by my ears. Is that a relief or not, I wondered? He again stated that he feels my symptoms are consistent with encephalitis. I must see a neurologist. I asked if he could send me to one closer to my home, since it took me an hour to get to his testing site today. He said I could see someone else, but that if I don't see someone who is very investigative, I am going to have 15 tests and nothing will be found.

His words - "What you have is not common. I deal with dizzy people all over the midwest. You don't have an ear problem. This is something for a neurologist, something in your brain."

I have had two MRIs in the last 2 years - one for the sleep study, and one for the ENT in the spring. Both say, surprisingly, that my brain is normal. I was just happy they confirmed I have one.

Meanwhile, I am leaving for a long trip and I am off balance for hiking over rocks and other uneven surfaces. Maybe that doesn't matter too much, since AZ is having some serious heat going on. I don't mind, but Late and Son might balk on occasion.

Maybe I should change my hair color so I can be a dizzy blonde. Who ever heard of a dizzy redhead?

Really, though, I don't feel dizzy. I feel like I am riding in a rowboat in a storm. All the time. Or sitting on a plane in rough weather. The intensity varies, but never ends.

 

Gotcha!

All I wanted to do was wash my car. It wasn't hard to tell if it really needed to be done or not. The last time it was washed was January when I had the oil changed. Easy stuff, car washing.

It should be easy enough. The beagles like to go where I go, so I tried to stick a stake in the ground to tie them for safety. No dice. No matter how hard I pushed, I don't weigh enough to push a stake through whatever is in the ground. I hope there are no videos of that attempt. So, no dogs. Next - hose. Last year I was not thinking when I bought my hose and it's kinkable. OK, so am I, but it's not a good thing in a hose. I had to unkink it and try the squirter thing on the end. Hose unkinked, squirter thing squirted all over me. Eventually, after much tugging, I was able to disconnect the squirter thing and toss it into the garbage. Back the car out of the garage. Just barely miss three bicyclist going down the road. Some day I will adjust to a shorter driveway.

Dogs are pushing each other away from the little window next to the front door and whining. I sigh, loudly, and go inside to put warm water into a bucket. On second thought, I add about 1/4 teaspoon dishwashing detergent to the water. Six months without being washed? I figured I needed a litle soap, although I normally use only warm water in the bucket and rinse with the hose. I also break from my own beliefs and use a brush to scrub the car. We pygmys cannot reach the top of the car, nor can we reach the entire hood of the car. I can work with it, but I decided I needed to do this fairly fast before my vertigo knocks me on my backside.

I turned on the hose, and started to back up to get it all neatly unkinked, and I hit the curb with my foot. I danced to keep from falling because I was way off balance - I didn't fall, but I did rip the strap out of my sandal. OK, I decided to wash the car barefoot; no big deal.

Just as I got re-started, my neighbor, the one who owns the little puppy, brought her over. It seems that the little one, Maddy, was not producing any poop. There is something about my lawn that encourages dogs to dump, so she brought Maddy over. Maddy proceeded to lick my bare toes, which were now wet. Then she licked my shins, and that really tickles! Meanwhile, I turned the water off and started washing the car. Maddy continued to not produce.

Another neighbor stopped by on his bicycle to critique my work. We were talking, enjoying the weather, waiting for Maddy to produce, and I finished the washing and decided to rinse. I had to turn on the hose again. I apparently had missed a kink, because suddenly the hose went flying and hit the neighbor, soaking his left flank quite thoroughly. His yelp caused Molly to start banging on the little thingie that keeps doors from whacking the walls. I call them bawoingees, but I don't know what the real word is. She was in the laundry room, banging away on it. Maddie continued to not produce, but she was having a great time. I have told her mom that she won't produce because as soon as she does, her mom takes her back inside the house. Neighbor on bike decides to go back to riding with the hopes that he dries off. I hope I don't get an email from his wife about that.

Just before I finish the car, the neighbor across the street wants to borrow a lawn tool. I found one, handed it to her, and she and her roommate proceeded to dig up their yard with it. I finished drying the car. Molly was still banging on the bawoingee. I walked with Maddy and her mom to the side of my yard and Maddy produced. Mom was all excited - a double load! *sigh*

I went back inside to put things away. The beagles started to carry on, so I had to drag them back outside. Maddy's mom is back, trying to get her older dog to produce :-). I dragged the beagles around for awhile, he got all excited watching that lovely female beagle bitch form walking, and he produced too. I dragged the beagles back in, changed out of my car washing clothes, and put on my dog walking clothes.

Yeah, it wasn't tiring enough to wash the car, I had to walk a few miles. We got partway around the complex and picked up another beagle and her owner, who walked the rest of the way with us. 

I hope it's less eventful when I clean the inside of the car.

 

 

How do we know?

Last night I put leftover angel hair pasta into a glass container with a lid that just sits on top. I prefer glass to plastic, when possible. I balanced it on top of a dog food container. Does anyone else have trouble organizing a refrigerator? I seem to always be putting things in layers on the shelves. It was late when I did the balancing act, and laughed at myself, saying I would probably open the door too fast in the morning and it would fall on my foot. I went to bed.

This morning I got up and opened the door to get out the dog food. No problem, no spills. I was proud of myself. Later on, I went back in the fridge for veggies. I have to make extra dog meals this week since I will be in AZ next week. The glass container fell out, landed hard against my ankle, and spilled all over the inside of the fridge and on the floor.

The decision as to when the fridge and the floor get cleaned is an easy one, this time. Molly and Baby did their best to help me out, of course, attempting to eat the pasta out of the fridge and off the floor. I just watched them while keeping my other eye on my ankle. I never really noticed bruises can sometimes present a green hue first. It's currently a pleasant shade of blue/purple, and swelling up to be sure I don't forget about it.

I have been wondering for a while how we know when it's time to do something. Cats will sit in a room, sleeping peacefully on the floor for six or eight hours without barely moving a whisker, when they will suddenly jump up, all alert, and skitter sideways at high speed to another location. There is rarely any obvious reason to us for this action. How do they know it's time?

Remember how your mom could be reading the newspaper and she would suddenly jump up and corral you to help her clean the linen closet? How did she know it was time to do it? Does some little timer go off in our brains?

When we are hungry, our tummies growl and complain. If we continue to ignore them, they get louder. When we are tired, our eyes droop. If we continue to ignore them, they close. But what calls us to the windows? The linen closets? The drawers?

Just how do we know it's time to clean the basement? Or the garage?

Some people are very regimented and actually do plan out things like, "On the first of every month at 6 pm I will clean the garage. Rain, snow, sleet. Doesn't matter." Most of us are a little more lax.

I am guilty of this too. I can be contentedly reading a great book, curled up with the dogs, having a nice glass of something wet and cold, but suddenly I will decide it's time to vacuum the carpets or I absolutely have to be sure the bathroom is presentable.

What motivates us to suddenly walk away from something else to do a mundane chore?

 

 

the saga continues

I keep telling myself to just put on my big girl panties and deal with these calls I have to make. They get more interesting as time goes on. After repeated calls to Fisher Paykel, they are sending someone out tomorrow to evaluate my washer _and_ my dryer. My warranty will cover it.

How did I make this miracle happen? Big girl panties. I gave up on help from Lowe's, no matter how nice the people were on the phone. When I called one of the two appliance repair places that Lowe's told me F-P recommended, I was told sure, they will come out - but I have to pay an $80 service call fee. We talked, and he suggested I call directly to F-P, which I did. What can be more entertaining than New Zealand accents? My former neighbor is from New Zealand. I never did understand a word he said, so I smiled and nodded a lot.

The first lady told me I had to lean over the washing machine and give her the serial number. I advised her that I am 5' tall, and there is no leaning over a washing machine to get a number off the back for me. I added that I currently have vertigo, so I am not leaning over anything. She asked if someone else could do it. I said I live alone (notice, I didn't really answer her question?). I gave up, said goodbye, and paced the floor. I would never problem solve anything if I could not pace. I usually mumble and talk to myself too, but I pretend I am talking to the dogs, who pace behind me and make mumbling noises. No videos, please. After a few rounds around the condo I headed into the bathroom and grabbed a mirror with a handle on it, some paper, and a pencil. I hung the mirror over the back of the washer, and found the sticker with the serial number. It was backwards and upside down. I copied down exactly what I saw, because I never developed the talents required to read backwards or upside down. I then held the results back up to the mirror, and viola! A serial number!

I called back to F-P, and of course got someone else who knew nothing. I gave her the name of the first lady and tossed in the case number, but she could not find anything. Unsurprised, I again repeated my usual song and dance as to how I found myself in this pickle. She started to repeat what the first lady said, telling meI might have to pay for a service call. I pulled up my big girl panties, got a firm voice, and said, no that just wasn't right. I bought F-P appliances because I was told they are excellent products and that the company backs them up.

She put me on hold.

She came back. "Yes, ma'am, we will cover the needed repairs to your washing machine. Please call back the appliance repair company as we have just called them and they know what to do." Do I accept that? Yes. But, I added that when the original guy was to bring back the part, I intended to have him also look at the dryer because I thought it sounded a little noisy. I said this because it's true. She said yes, ma'am, we will cover any repairs needed to your dryer, also.

The problem with the doctor bill seems to be under control. It's paid in full and not going to a collection agency. However, their records show two co-pays for $10 each, and the statement they sent me shows $10 for one co-pay and $10 service fee. Creative accounting? I asked for a copy of their records to compare to the statement they sent me. Big girl panties are now firmly in place.

The next decision was to head to the gym and work my ass off. Literally. As I was walking in the door to return home, my cell phone rang. It was the appliance repair company, confirming my appointment for Thursday. I said no, it's Friday, but if you can come Thursday in the afternoon, I am good with that. She said yes, that works. And ma'am? There is an $80 service call charge. I pinned my big girl panties to my bra (remember, I am short) and said, "No. F-P called your company." After some more confusion, I asked her what company she was calling from.

It seems that helpful Lowe's had called the other appliance repair company and took it upon themselves to schedule me for an appointment and assured them that I would pay the service call fee. I canceled the appointment, explaining to the lady that Lowe's made a mistake.

No call back from Phils's, the first company that was out and doesn't remember when they stopped servicing F-P appliances, other than it was after they were out here and before this week.

No call back from the carpet people. It has been two weeks, plus two years since I first called.

Here I am with my big girl panties, and I cannot even launder them until my washing machine is repaired.

 

Thanks, Deb, for the graphic :-)

 

 

 

 

 

phone calls

What are the chances that the doctor's office called me back about that billing error? I guess I had a 50% chance of resolution, but now I would drop that to maybe 5% unless I spend a lot of time on the phone. I seem to be doing that, anyway.

After a nice, pleasant weekend away, I started again on my pile of paperwork. "Paperwork" is a general term I use for papers to be filed, shredded, responded to, calls to be made, issues to resolve, and everything else I haven't been able to satisfactorily complete.

Today I called again to follow up on the carpeting. I was told by Deb that she is waiting for a call back from the builder. I gently reminded her that she was waiting for a call back ten days ago. She said she called a second time. When asked when she called, she said she didn't write the date down. Not promising, is it? She assured me she would call again today. I really don't think all these issues with the carpeting have to do with the builder. Next call, I will request that we get started on the problems and hope the builder will do his share. I then took a few pictures of some of the problems, which are getting worse, of course.

After that encouraging start, I figured it was time to call the company that was to fix my washing machine under warranty. Anyone remember that? It has been 15 months since Phil's Service promised to order a new part, I think it was a deck, and come back and install it. It was not long after my shoulder surgery. I was told today that:

1. They no longer service Fisher-Paykel.

2. They have no idea what happened to the part that was ordered.

3. They do not know when they stopped servicing Fisher-Paykel. I found that interesting.

4. No one was available to tell me what the correct answers are to numbers one and two.

5. I must call my warranty company back and make new arrangements.

6. Someone will call me. "Sorry, that isn't working very well for me so far, is it?" I asked, patiently.

I had to finally make that call because I washed my good sheets yesterday and found grease on them. That is not a good sign for either my washer or my white sheets. I cannot do any laundry until this is resolved.

So, a 30-minute call was made to Lowe's, where I bought the appliances. Tim said he would be happy to help me. What a nice change. He wanted to know what happened to the part, also. He said Phil's is under contract and must follow through. Again, I said that wasn't working very well for me so far.

Their follow up team is to call me with in 24 hours. My money is on the follow up team calling, arranging for someone else to come out, and the part being installed long before Phil's even bothers to call me back.

While none of these calls produced any results, I have to say I was impressed with the customer service techniques from Lowe's. When he put me on hold, he asked me if I was OK with holding for a minute or two. Tim said he would be "happy to help me." At least I wasn't exhausted by the end of the call from trying to be polite but firm. He made it easy.

Maybe I have enough patience left to call the doctor's office and find out what happened with that. I am expecting nothing, so they can't disappoint me.

After all, I do find this somewhat amusing.

I might not be amused once I finally get my big girl pants on and start dealing with the builder.  I will aim for amusement. I doubt they will disappoint if I can just keep my sense of humor in place. So far, they have jarred it just a little.

 

a short entry

I think we are going to be stuck with short jokes here for a while. After having shared my experience with several friends and neighbors, the word seems to be to contact Talbot's and alert management as to what I heard from an employee. It was not directed at me, but the issue should be addressed. The child really pushed me last night when I told her about it. She has worked in service for 10 years, and she said a manager should have been dragged over to me immediately. I should not have been allowed to walk out that door unhappy. She is right about that.

I don't do graceful segues. I just change topics on a dime.

This morning, right after I woke up, Baby decided there was something outside the window over my bed that she just had to gaze at, and the best angle was to sit on my head for a view. I tolerated that, since she isn't very heavy. Meanwhile, I reach over, ever so slowly, and get my hand on my cell phone and, ever so slowly, try to take a picture of my dog sitting on my head. I am sorry to say that the memory was full. By the time I was starting to delete old pictures, she had her fill of the outdoor view and was ready to head on outside. Darn! Another photo op lost.

Instead, I took a new picture of my helpful support team this morning, doing what they do when the world does not require their services:

I have been diagnosed this week with rosacea. I went in for my yearly skin cancer check and came out with some slime type of lotion to smear on my face twice a day. I told him several years ago I had it, but he ignored me. This time I took a hot shower two hours before he saw me, put on no makeup, and when he saw my tomato face he decided maybe I was right after all. It's a mild case, he says.

Oh, my, they moved! They must be preparing to save the world again. Molly even opened her eye. (The sound of the camera must have disturbed her.)

Yes, I did make the bone blankets for them. Disgusting, isn't it?

Don't I have anything better to do? Well, let's see. I have to call the carpeting company again who was supposed to call me back last Friday regarding the buckling in the carpet that I will trip over one of these days. It's bad enough I could get a photo of that, if I were so inclined. I need to call back to the doctor's office who not only billed me for a $10 copay amount, which was just fine, but also added on an interest fee for being late of $10, and it was the first statement they had sent me. I paid the $20 since I was lazy and didn't read it well, but when they sent me another for $20 and said it's going to collections, I probably turned red in the face and gently called to ask them WTF they are doing. I really was gentle about it - no one is going to correct a series of errors like that if I am nasty. I did ask for a call back when it was corrected. No call, of course, so far. Since 100% interest charges are probably illegal, and they used the word "interest" on the statement, I am pretty confident I can get $10 returned and removed from collections. Yes, they did cash my check quite a while ago. I need to call and find out what happened to the painter who was due here in September to paint over the crappy correction job on my basement railing. I could also call to see why they shut off my sprinklers a few weeks ago when Roomie called to get hers turned on. I can correct that myself, but I am not supposed to adjust sprinklers, and mine were squirting into the house via windows and sliding patio door and also again completely soaking my patio furniture three times a week. I do not enjoy sitting on soaked fabric cushions, and I am sure the water is making the cushions rot. My other neighbor needs hers adjusted since the dogs and I got plastered against the side of my garage and soaked, much to the amusement of my neighbor across the street. I wasn't worried about getting soaked since mine are off. I didn't expect the neighbor's to actually go across her lawn, across mine, and then several feet up on my grarage wall. I need to pack for this weekend and make up a new batch of dog food. My nails needed to be done a few days ago and I have been putting it off since I cut my finger near my cuticle on my way to the dermatologist. It's going to hurt, there isn't any way around that one. My thermostat is flashing "lo batt" at me and I need to replace that battery, but I will then be reminded that the builder was supposed to lower thethermostat due to my pygmy status and they did not. At least they did lower the bars in the closet to hang my clothes on, the microwave, and the upper cupboards.

It's nice to have a home somewhat designed for me, even if I do need to stand on my toes to see what the temperature is in here.

 

 

 

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The little one

Last Saturday I was again planning a nice meal with ST. He was riding his bike, then coming over for lunch. After racing a bicycle for 45 miles or so, he tends to work up an appetite. I am trying to refresh my cooking skills, so it's a good mix.

The dogs dragged me outside for the second or third time around 10 am, and I ran into my neighbor who has the cutest little puppy. Maddie is now about 3 months old, and highly resembles a black, brown, and white powder puff. Her dog mom was looking frazzled, and I offered to take the little one for a while so she could get some work done at home. She was delighted, but worried about my home. I told her my home is decorated in Early Dog and there is nothing a puppy can do to it. I told her I needed a shower first, then I would collect the little one.

I took said shower, and fetched Maddie, even though my hair was still wet. I knew my beagles love puppies and they would all play. I firmly believe that a tired dog is a good dog. I could wear out three dogs without changing my plans for the day.

It was much fun for all of us. I could not tell when Maddie had to pee because she spent much of her time sniffing the carpet, which to me means, "Let me out to pee!" Finally she came over to the throw rug under my feet by the stove and peed on it. I smiled at her - I wish my dogs would use throw rugs when I can't let them out. She dashed off to beat the beagles up some more, then returned to drop a huge pile of poop on the rug. I smiled again, cleaned it up, and tossed the rug into the washing machine.

Maddie changed her focus from the beagles to my toes, and we had fun in the kitchen, her licking my toes and me trying again to make chicken without skipping a step or doing the routine in the wrong order. Lots of fresh mushrooms, and some mushroom gnocci tossed in too. I used oyster mushrooms, regular mushrooms (whatever they are called) and some nice baby bellas, too. I had no complaints on the meal. Maddie had no complaints on the toes, but I had to be very careful not to step on her. We have toys bigger than she is :-)

ST managed to get inside the home and visit with the beagles before he even noticed that one of the toys was running around licking my toes. He made friends with her, and we had lunch. The dogs got little tidbits and everyone was happy. Eventually, I didn't hear from Maddie, but the beagles were sleeping, so I figured she was too. She popped up later - she had been napping under the bed.

When it was time to return Maddie (about 5 hours?) I decided to make a cosmopolitan for my neighbor. I had already sampled the vodka liberally by that time. I made a cosmo, and spilled some on the counter. I drank what was left in the glass and made a new one. I held the glass while trying to leash up three dogs - and they jostled me and spilled then entire second drink on the floor by the front door. Laughing, I made a third, got the dogs saddled up, waddled them down the street, and presented the neighbor with her tired, sleepy puppy and a perfect cosmo.

Everyone was happy :-)

 

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Cleaned up entry

I haven't sent an entry in quite a while, so I sat down on my sofa, snuggled my bum comfortably and put up my handy foot rest. The laptop found itself on my lap and I decided to try again to do an entry. I did one a week ago, but AOL ate it before it was completely finished. That scared me off for a while.

I can see this is going to be An Issue. When I clicked on the icon in my carousel on my toolbar for AOL, my journal came up, as expected. However, there was no button available to "add entry" or even "edit entry." Nothing at all. It came up as if I am an observer in my own life. Hm. I said, or perhaps the word I used had two more letters in it.

Lacking any other creative options, I decided to use the aol bot for entries. I know some of you do this all the time and have figured out the details. I haven't. I am used to clicking on "enter" to get a new paragraph, not to send an entry.  I want to write about my day yesterday. 

 
I was to be evaluated by a new dentist yesterday. Ever since that gum graft I had in January (graft, not graph, as some people call it) I have been unusually leery of anyone sticking metal objects in my mouth, especially if they are sharp enough to cut me. Even so, I am not ready to accept that this is the best healing situation I am going to get. I put on my big girl pants and hit the road, totally forgetting that we had a monster storm the night before.
I stopped at my previous dentist's office to request copies of my last x-rays, but they had no power inthe office and could not make a copy for me. I should have paid attention to that. I drove on, patiently, as the new dentist is 20 miles from my home. I hit a stop light that wasn't working. Hm, I thought, this area is without power! I kept going, slowly, as watching heavy traffic treat a busy intersection as a 4-way stop is high entertainment.
Eventually, I got to the intended destination to find the parking lot totally empty. I pulled into a parkingspot and left a message for the dentist's office that was just slightly miffed, advising that it would have been nice to get a call to cancel the appointment as I did not know power was out on that side of town. (Hint, hint, I just wasted several dollars in gas and a lot of time.) My next destination was the gym, but it was noon. I decided to avoid the noon rush at the gym and wander the local mall.

The mall had power. In fact, the a/c was cranked up a bit too much for me. I wandered around, vaguely keeping an eye out for some new summer tops. I found myself in Talbot's, a nice ladies' store that actually carries petite sizes. I am short. It's not a secret! I am short, I have red hair, and I used to be extremely skinny. I was razzed all my life over all three situations. No big deal, but being short does make it difficult sometimes to get clothes to fit.
The store is a u-shape, with petites on one side, general merchandise in the middle, and regular clothing on the other side. I slowly meandered down the petite side, lost in thought. The store was rather empty. All of a sudden I heard a clerk in back yell out, "I am in the pygmy section doing what you should have already done!" I was just stunned. I was offended, but also stunned. I had no idea how to react to that, but I did feel it deserved some sort of reaction. I did not see the employee who said it.
As much as I whine about my hearing loss, it's still well within the normal range. I simply had way above normal to begin with. "Normal" is a "loss" for me. I heard things probably no human was supposed to. Anyway, with absolutely no doubt in my mind as to what I heard, I continued on towards the back of the store. No one had offered to help me yet. I passed the center of the U, and walked up the "normal" sizes section. You know, away from the pygmy clothes.

Let me add here that I have absolutely no doubt that staff talks like that in the back room. I don't care. Work humor should not be heard by others, though. I was upset. Finally a nice lady offered to help me. I said I didn't think she could. I told her I had been highly offended by the comment I had heard, and repeated it for her, word for word. She looked stunned also, and asked me if I had seen who said it. I said no, I didn't. I was almost in tears by this time.

 
I just looked at her, and whispered, "I won't be back." I walked out. She said nothing.

Obviously, I left the mall. I went to the gym and let some steam off for an hour on the elliptical machine. I love that machine :-). Halfway through a man got on the machine next to me. I had a book propped up and was reading, sweating, and minding my own business. I sweat hard, but I don't breathe hard. This guy did. He was panting like a horse after the Belmont, but in between panting spells he would belch. Very loudly. These belches were the kind that sound wet. That probably smell bad.

I ignored him, which I think he took as permission to belch at will. My book was engrossing, so I tuned him out. Within 20 minutes or so, he was worn out completely and left. Bye! I checked my watch and headed for the lockers, deciding to rush home and feed the poopers instead of showering at the gym and going a little early to see the Vampire for my massage. The poopers (beagles) were delighted to get their dinner on time, and I showered at home. The Vampire called, and asked me to show up a little late.

That revised plan worked out great for me, and when I got there, I told him about the Talbot's incident. His mother, in Romania, was a gymnist and even shorter than I am, he said. She is healthy, strong, commanding, and short. He said he teased her about only coming halfway up his chest, but he said he assumes probably other people in public have said things to her at times that were rude. He pushed me to go back and get the employee fired. I wasn't wanting that, I told him.

He said the store isn't at fault, the woman is. I disagreed, saying the woman was loud enough for me to hear her halfway across the store - the other employees heard her too. It's a store problem. I would bet that employees have had sensitivity training regarding race, religion, etc, but I would think a store that specifically carries petite sizes, which are hard to find, would not allow crude comments about height. I am over it - it was just a part of my day. I do notthink the woman intended insult.

Later, in retrospect, I stuck with my idea that it's a store problem. Not one employee shushed that woman up. Also, I realized later it could have even been the woman I spoke to - perhaps she was highly relieved that I didn't see who said it - which also explains why she was speechless regarding offering me any verbal palliatives.

The poopers and I made our usual 2-mile evening walk with my neighbor and her dog-niece, the Cairn Terrier. Gayly. This time we didn't have to step over as many branches in the road or wade through flooded streets. We did, however, just make it home in time to miss another huge storm last night. The thunder was so loud that my home shook a few times. Add in some vertigo, and it was like an earthquake for me! Lovely. I love a good storm!

 
After doing some chores, I had to call my niece to see if her daughters can dog sit for me to go to AZ in a few weeks. We talked a long time. I needed to make any possible changes to my flight plans by midnight. I could cancel the flights I had secheduled and set up new ones, which I wanted to do. By the time I was able to start calling the airlines, it was 11 pm. Even so, I should have been able to get information within an hour. I made a call, was transferred, then again, then again.

I was given some codes to use, and they didn't work. I had to call again, transferred again, and again. Finally I was on hold until 1 am, when I gave up (an hour on hold) and decided I needed a small dish of ice cream. This same "hold" problem came up in Florida. I had to call NWA, and was left on hold over an hour. This happened on the one full night we had to go out - and we subsequently had a very late dinner. After that, in FL, I was given incorrect information.

Last night, I didn't get any real information and am now locked into flights I am not happy about. I need to read back in my entries to see if I described the flight home when I was denied access to the first class bathroom on a NWA flight, but a man who sat in coach was not. Right now, NWA is not my best friend.

I think this leaves me TWO endings:

 
1. Maybe NWA thinks I am too short to bother with.

2. Maybe Comcast and NWA have a merger going.