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Thursday, April 10, 2014

The Computer Accident

I will never know what happened. My son walked up from the basement, cradling my Mac in his arms, tears in his eyes. He "doesn't know what happened" but now my computer screen is only white with a few black, vertical lines. The computer has sustained a terrible injury. I might have panicked. It's possible that not all of my newest book was backed up properly. My husband quickly put a large glass of wine silently in front of me.

I took it to the Genius Bar and got a bunch of sad faces in return. They act physically pained to see one of these machines hurt. As if I have abused it in some way! I expected them to take it from me and tell me I was no longer worthy of ownership.

"Will it be okay? Will I still be able to get my files?"

"I won't know anything until we run a diagnostic." I looked around. No, I wasn't actually in a hospital. Just an Apple store.

The good news is that the files are still there. The bad news is the damage is so bad, it will need to be "sent out" for repair. Shrugs and disappointed looks from the Geniuses when I asked how much it would cost. I should be prepared, and willing, to do whatever is necessary. So said their eyes.

I am now using my TV as a monitor to do this post before I drop it off for surgery. I will soon hand the laptop over to the hopefully capable hands of the doctors, I mean techs, to make it all better.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

The Old Man

My husband probably wouldn't enjoy hearing me refer to him as "The Old Man" but he turned 40 last week and I have to dig a little. I'm ignoring the fact that 40 is right around the corner from me. I say that, but it's actually a year and a half away. Of course, at the rate that time seems to be going, forget 40, I'll be 50 before I know it. But this isn't about me, this is about him.

We celebrated over the weekend with family and a few friends, as I had been away on business for his actual birthday, which he claims was so very very sad.

"I ate a dinner that I microwaved and quietly sang happy birthday to myself." He then warbled a pitiful version of Happy Birthday to let me know just what I missed. Forget the fact that he had both children home with him and they sang a rousing version of the song to him. Also, he's been away on business for at least TWO of my birthdays, so I can't let the guilt run amuck.

He doesn't remember much about the weekend celebration. I tease him that it's because of his age now, but we all know it was the mix of beer, gin, vodka, rum, and whiskey that lead to the memory loss. You would think by this advanced age, he would know better than to mix drinks like that. I guess some things we never learn. It's a good thing he has such a young lovely, such as myself, to take care of him in his decrepit state. His Sunday recovery time was, shall we say, NOT awesome.

Happy birthday to the HHH (Happy Hypochondriac Husband)

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Dust Storm

While discussing more snow on the East Coast with my husband (will the winter ever end?), my phone started blowing up in Phoenix, Arizona. Emergency messages popped up on my iPhone. Dust Storm Alert. DO NOT TRAVEL! That's what it said. I was sitting in a large building with no windows when these started arriving on my screen. It was almost time to leave and walk back to my hotel. Should I take cover? Stay in the windowless building? Does "DO NOT TRAVEL" mean just by car, or does walking count, too? That's still traveling. I've never been in a dust storm so I really had no idea what to expect.

I walked outside and everything looked fine. Sunny. A little windy. But otherwise okay. I went up to my hotel room on the 15th floor and that's when I saw what they meant by a dust storm. All along the horizon, my normal view of desert valley and red-orange mountain rocks was being swallowed up by an encroaching darkness. I could hear the wind blow harder out my window. As the minutes went by, more of the view turned the haze, then disappeared. A dark cloud was seemingly eating the horizon. Soon, I couldn't see any of it outside the downtown building around me. Dust particles blew by my window, but it was nothing compared to the complete gray out in the distance. Pheonix was succumbing to a smoke monster!

An hour later, I could see again into the distance. All was clear. It was like nothing had happened. I'm sure there are a lot of dirty cars out there. I've been through all kinds of storms of the windy, rainy type, growing up in Florida. But never a dust storm. If you don't have to travel, it's worth a view.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

The New Excitement on the Horizon

There are a lot of things brewing in The Happy Hypochondriac world in the coming months. Brace yourself and be ready for the following:

A New Website (Gasp!)

A YouTube Video of Hypochondriac Animals (Wha?)

The Happy Hypochondriac Survives World Travel (Hoorah!)

The First in a Series of "Musings" Books, based on this popular blog you are reading right now (Huzzah!)

Happy Hypochondriac Merchandise (Sweet!)

More quips from the Happy Hypochondriac Husband (It's about time!)

Prepare to laugh, cry, and laugh all over again. Your emotions will hit new highs! Wow, that's a lot of promises, right?

It's all coming. Starting VERY soon! Stay tuned. I will keep you posted.



Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The Missing Plane

Okay, I know I'm not the only one completely freaked out about this missing Malaysian Air plane. How does a plane simply go missing completely for over 12 days, with no end in sight? There were no indications that the pilots had wonky motives leading up to this. There were no distress signals. No meanie groups are taking the credit. And there is no physical evidence of it anywhere. It's like it never existed at all. Except, of course, it did exist, and the families of the passengers are left with so many unanswered questions.

My husband and I are certain it has landed where the plane in "Lost" landed. Smoke monsters and all. Of all the theories floating out there, it actually has about as much evidence and credibility to back it up as the others.

I have to get on a plane this week. Granted, it's not in that part of the world, but still. I'm already antsy times ten on flights as it is. Couple this news with a good Liam Neeson movie and I need to medicate. Surely whoever did this to the plane (whatever "this" actually is), cannot outsmart the entire world! Can they?

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

The Eagerness to Please

Tomorrow I have a follow up visit with the physical therapist for my neck pain. I was given homework over the past two weeks. Stretch, ice and heat, change my posture with everything, completely control how I sleep. I have tried. I really have. But I have failed on many of these counts. I have not iced but once (today). I have stretched every day, so there's a check in my column. I have attempted to change my posture but seem to slip easily into old habits. It also doesn't help that I'm at my computer for most of the day lately. As for sleeping, I have bought pillows to try to keep me on my side, but my sleeping mind keeps flipping me onto my stomach. Frustration ensues. I want to please the therapist. I don't want her to "consider underlying problems." I just want to cure my neck pain on my own with her handy tips.

It's time to hit the heating pad and hope for a wide range of motion tomorrow. I REALLY want to pass this test.

Monday, March 10, 2014

The Weird Lady on Roller Skates

That's me, by the way. I took a break from my 20-year roller skating hiatus to hit the rink this weekend with my sister and my kids. This falls under the category of, "What was I thinking?" They were thrilled, as they've never been roller skating. I was antsy, as all I could think about were crumbled, broken bones and run over fingers. My excitement waned further when we pulled up to the rink, a dilapidated flamingo-pink building, and saw the place was flat out mobbed. So many out-of-control skaters! And now I would add myself to that calamitous mix.

We got our sweet (and damp!) rental skates and my son, who is usually quite athletic, ventured quickly out onto the rink. He landed flat on his back in less than half a second. My daughter went down almost immediately behind him. After repeated attempts to get our feet under us, we succumbed to the peer pressure of more than half the other skaters and rented one of those balance walkers on wheels so the kids could get the hang of it. I never had the luxury of one of these when I was learning. But the PVC pipe device is actually quite helpful in just getting your head around the fact that your feet are inexplicably attached to clunky wheels. The view is hilarious, however, because the skating rink has lost it's style a little when you see everyone zooming around with walkers, like miniature geriatric patients in a retirement facility, who also happen to like speed. I opted to wing it without a walker and managed to continually go counter clockwise looking like Frankenstein with a French Twist, instead of head bolts.

I am proud to say that I didn't fall once, except on purpose during a sadistic game of "Wipe Out." What I learned from that game is that I'm too old to pretend fall on a hard surface. We all came away free of broken bones. My children loved it. And for a couple of hours, I was transported back to my childhood. There were even the older guys who have all the moves and weave in, out and around everyone smoothly with one hand on their hip; so casual. It was a bit strange, actually.
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