Monday, May 17, 2010

Sucked Out Of My Head

I was going to blog about my new puppy. I was going to talk about how my family got me this new little chihuahua Manchester terrier mix because in my grief I wouldn't sleep in my bed because there was no littlest dog to hold me down all night. They talked me into it because they said that a puppy would give me something to love and help heal my bleeding heart. Not a dog to take my other dog's place, but a bandaid of sorts to slow the bleeding. They were right. I still miss my dog, but I am sleeping in my bed again with my new puppy pressed up against me all night. I always say that I can love a million dogs, and there are so many animals out there that need a home, so why not love one more. And I am loving one more. I love that he is not like my other dog; he is his own little puppy. I liken it to my other dog was a circle and my new dog is a triangle. Or a square. Or even an octagon. How about a trapezoid? You can choose your own favorite shape. He's just different, which is exactly what I wanted. I was not looking for the same dog, knowing that that will never happen and I would never try to make one animal be like another. I want them to be just what they are. And he is.

I was also going to blog about the flea market and how great it was. How I got some really good deals. Like an old school desk, the kind from the old school houses that were nailed in place, for $10! I also got this really cool old collection box for missionary work from the 1850's (the dates are on it) for $5. And an old toy horse for $1, and on and on. And how on the first day, as I was dragging my tired arse back to the car, a man asked me if I saw the handicapped sign in front of my car. He said it so friendly-like and I was so tired that I thought he was pointing out how great our parking was, he being parked in handicapped, too. I told him yes, I had my hang tag hung up and he said, "Oh, you seem so able." I told him I have MS and am not always so great and asked him if he had a hang tag. He said he did because "he is like me" about not always being so great. Getting into my car, my little sister was FURIOUS that he had the nerve to be the handicapped police and judge who was disabled and who was "able." Her window was open about an inch and she loudly said, "That is F*CKING BULLSH*T!" And driving away she put her window down, put out her arm and, with a gesture, showed him how she felt about him. I wish I hadn't been too tired to process the whole exchange fast enough because that man would NEVER say something like that to anyone ever again. My little sister ranted and raved and foamed at the mouth. Driving out of the parking lot, I kept asking her if she wanted to go back and "talk" to that man because I felt he should get an ear full. She didn't want to because she didn't want to punch an old man in the face and because she was unable to say anything without obscenities as every other word and she wanted to be coherent and a little more classy than that. That old bastard got lucky. The next time anyone says anything like that to me, I will be ready. And if that old bastard has the bad luck to ever see me again, he will not enjoy it. We kept our eyes open for him the next day we went because we had some choice words for him. He must have sensed the murderous feelings in the air, or he parked elsewhere when he saw my car, because we did not see him. And everyone knows that the second and last day of the flea market is the best time because everyone is willing to cut a deal so they don't have to haul their crap home.

I was going to blog about all this stuff, but this morning I found a tick in my hair. A TICK! I always joke about buying ticks at the flea market, but I didn't know it was an option. I haven't had a tick on me since I was a kid and I was hoping to keep it that way. That tick sucked all my ideas right out of my head and I can feel the Lyme disease a-brewing in me. I feel so dirty, I think I need another hot shower.

4 comments:

Sarah said...

I would love to hear some of those choice phrases for the MS/ handicapped parking police, actually. I just got my first handicapped parking pass, and I worry all the time about what I would say if someone called me on "looking normal". I could use some inspiration.

Webster said...

Frankly, I disagree with your perspective on the parking lot encounter. I just think that guy was, in his way, looking out for us all. So many people cheat and illegally use those parking placards. [I know, because my brother took mine for awhile before I caught him and took it back.] There aren't many handicapped parking police, so we have to keep an eye out for each other. Can you really say you were so offended by his simple query?

BTW, back in the day when my disability was invisible, someone actually spit on my windshield when I was in the store. Another time I was yelled at from across a parking lot. It's hard to explain under those circumstances, but I just take the bad along with the good, and appreciate having the privilege of close parking.

Denver Refashionista said...

I have not been by in forever but hey there. You still crack me up.

Amy said...

Hello.
We just wanted to take a moment to let you know how much we enjoy your blog and your attempts to raise awareness for MS! MS is a cause that is near and dear to us as well as Laina's mother suffered from MS. Our slogan is Orange is the new pink! So many people do not know what Multiple Sclerosis is. Even less know that orange is the color representing Multiple Sclerosis. However, you would be surprised to find someone who didn’t know that pink was the color to represent Breast Cancer. That needs to change!! We need orange to be just as recognizable as pink!! We have Tshirts, women's tees, sweatshirts, and totes. Check them out at http://lainamolaski.com/about/multiple-sclerosis/ and also look at http://lainamolaski.com/about/world-ms-day/. We kicked off an initiative on May 5th to try and raise $3,000 by World MS Day on May 26th. Thanks again and keep up the good work!