food · random stuff · Teeth · whatever · writing

Toothless Wonder

In my last post, I talked about the horrible tooth infection that was causing me so much pain, and the dentist that didn’t help me at all. (Yes, I realize that I posted that WAAAAY back at the beginning of February. What can I say–I’m a slacker.) Well, later that month, I had a seizure while standing in front of a Dollar Tree store waiting for my Uber to arrive, and ended up in the ER. Four stitches in my right eyebrow, a slight concussion, and as the topper, the impact with the sidewalk knocked that bridge so loose that I’ve had to have it removed. After much searching, I was given an appointment at the OHSU Dental School, and had high hopes of getting things fixed there, but it was not to be. My insurance wouldn’t cooperate with all of the other things that needed to be done, and I was getting desperate. So, I returned to the same dental office I’d been to before, fearful of running into Dr. Idiot again. My luck had changed! He is no longer there, and the staff I’ve dealt with since is truly FABULOUS– and, I will say, all quite good-looking, as well.

Decisions had to be made about how to fix things, and I chose to have them remove the few upper teeth I had left, and make an upper denture– all things that my insurance will pay for. This involved quite a bit more pain, since that tooth that had been infected was a bitch to get pulled. I swear, the root on that thing went all the way up my head and wrapped around a time or two. After the doctor finished with that side of my mouth, I went home and was ready to curl up and die for a few days. And here is why I like these guys so much: because we’d had so much trouble & pain with the left side of my mouth, they gave me the option to use laughing gas for the right side, which is apparently not done very much anymore. I jumped at the chance, and ended up sleeping through most of the extractions. While there was still some residual pain, it was much less, because the spot where those shots were given hurt! Two weeks ago I had my first impressions made for the denture, and later this week, I go back for a second one. I was hoping to have teeth in time for Halloween, but Mr Ji (the denture wizard) says that the first or second week of November is more likely. So at least I’ll be able to actually eat Thanksgiving dinner, and let me tell you, I will be incredibly thankful for that! I am so sick of soft foods and gumming foods into submission that I could cry. My stomach is calling out for a plate of crunchy tacos with green chile and lots of cheese, or a bunch of spiral-sliced with a side of green beans. Maybe a big thick steak, nice and rare, dipped in A-1. Okay, I have to stop now, I’m starting to drool.  Soup just isn’t a substitute for any of this stuff. My toothless days cannot end too soon!

Family · moving · random stuff · seizures

It’s My Life…

My life is not really busy enough to warrant my being such an absentee blogger. I am the Queen of Procrastination, and that does justify it, I guess… Anyway, here I am, with an update.

As most of you know, I share a house with my extended family – my elderly parents, my younger sister and her two children, ages 13 & 23,  2 dogs & a cat. We rent this large house, and have for a few years, and mostly it works. Or it did. Things aren’t working so well anymore. My father has dementia, which is getting progressively worse, and he refuses to see a doctor. He’s gone from being a friendly, funny, loving man, to an angry, hateful unhappy stranger. He’s mad all the time, at everything, especially at the dog, and at me, for some reason. In all of my childhood, I have only one memory of my father yelling at me, and that was when I was about 4-years-old, and ran into the street after a ball. These days he yells at me all the time. I try to remind myself that it isn’t him, it’s the disease, but some days that’s difficult to remember. In January Mom fell at church and broke her hip. She spent two months in the rehab center, and had a mini-stroke while she was there. She’s recovering well, but not as fast as she’d like. Not being able to do all the things she’s accustomed to doing is frustrating to all of us. The biggest issue right now is money (isn’t it always?). While the folks wait for the settlement from the insurance company, bills are falling behind, and we’re all worried. Our landlord has informed us that in September our rent will be raised, so we are going to need to move. Mom has been looking at assisted living facilities, but the prices are insane. I’ve no idea where there rest of us are going to go. I have my disability income, but that’s not really enough to pay rent anywhere except a nice cardboard box.

As I type this, I’m becoming very discouraged. I keep telling my mother not to worry about me, but really, I have no idea what I’m going to do. There is no such thing as affordable housing, especially for someone in my situation. I need to be able to move in the next couple of months, and I don’t see that happening. It’s not as though I need something fancy–all I need is one bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen, somewhere within walking distance of the bus line. I need internet access and decent water pressure, and a closet. Keep dreaming, Jonna.

So what else is going on? Umm…I went six months without a seizure, and then, boy did I have a doozy. Big time. I did change doctors–I am no longer seeing the folks up at OHSU for my neurological needs. I got tired of seeing a different doc every appointment, and that last doctor was just plain rude, so I have switched everything over to Providence. My new doctor is very nice, and seems on the ball.

I had blue hair for a month this summer. That was a mistake…But the blue was better that it’s aftermath! In trying to remove the blue, I damaged my hair so much I’ve had to cut it short, which isn’t the problem, not really. The cut is a bit odd, and needs some help, but the color at the moment, oh. my. gawd. My hair is this awful shade of ashy golden blonde, which just looks nasty on someone with my skint one. Looks as if I have scurvy! Blech. Fortunately, I know how to fix it, and will be doing so VERY soon. As soon as my sister arrives with my supplies, as a matter of fact! And then, I’ll be a beautiful brunette once again…pictures will follow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

book reviews · random stuff

Book Review: Nightmares and Dreamscsapes

I’ve been a fan of Stephen King since junior high, and his books contains some of the short stories that makes me want to walk up to him and say “Dude, your mind is so twisted, and I LOVE it!” One of those stories is ‘You Know They Got A Hell Of A Band’, another is ‘Chattery Teeth’ and one more favorite in this collection is ‘Home Delivery.’

The list of stories in this collection (all published previously):

Dolan’s Cadillac
The End of the Whole Mess
Suffer the Little Children
The Night Flier
Popsy
It Grows On You
Chattery Teeth
Dedication
The Moving Finger
Sneakers
You Know They Go a Hell of a Band
Home Delivery
Rainy Season
My Pretty Pony
Sorry, Right Number
The Ten O’Clock People
Crouch End
The House on Maple Street
The Fifth Quarter
The Doctor’s Case
Umney’s Last Case

These include a couple of ghost stories, a zombie tale, some vampires, some alien-ish things, and a couple of those odd things that only Mr. King can come up with. For example, The Moving Finger, a story about a man and what emerges from his drain one night. Like Chattery Teeth, it’s kinda icky and just plain weird. Which is why we all love Stephen King, right?

 

book reviews · books · random stuff

Book Review: Darkly Dreaming Dexter

As per my rule, after I started watching the Showtime series ‘Dexter,’ I had to read the book the show was based on.  (I did not read these when the series was running.) I am glad I did; the book is dark, creepy, and occasionally wryly funny. Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter is a different monster from Showtime’s, but both are equally entrancing.

My favorite line from this book:

“I took a deep breath and tried to remind myself that I was a good girl and didn’t do those things.” Gotta love it when a serial killer makes you laugh.

 

online dating · random stuff

Something’s Fishy

Is it possible to miss someone who never really existed? To long for something you never actually had? Well, of course it is, I tell myself–that’s what dreams are. Right? Sure. But in this case, I’m not talking about a dream I had. I’m talking about something altogether different.

Before I go any farther, let me just say that sharing this with the entire world was a difficult choice to make. I need to get this out of my head, though, so here we go! A few posts ago I mentioned that I’d ventured back into the world of online dating, and that I’d met someone.

His profile on OkCupid said his name was Justin, a computer engineer in his mid-40’s, living in New York City. He had a cute profile picture; not movie star cute, but attractive. (I’m not movie star attractive, and I don’t judge a book by its cover!) He liked books, jazz, Asian food, and travel. He messaged me, and we chatted on the site for about a week and then through emails, and texts. After a couple of weeks, he asked if he could call, and I said yes. Talking to him was very nice; he was funny and smart, and I liked him. He did have a strange accent that made understanding him difficult sometimes; it almost sounded as if he had a hearing problem as a child. He told me his accent was from growing up in Germany, where his mother still lives. It didn’t sound at all German to me, but I accepted his explanation, because by this time, I was starting to like this guy. Of course, I should have paid more attention to the things that didn’t add up. The strange accent. The fact that if I called him I always got voice mail. And the strangest thing, the one that really should have made me know I was being played–he had no online presence. I did a Google search for the name he gave me — Justin Peacock– about a week after we started talking, and while I did get some hits, they clearly were not him. There is a writer of that name living in NYC, and he popped up. His books, mystery/thrillers, are pretty good. But that’s neither here nor there. I thought this lack of any kind of online presence was odd, given that he claimed to be a freelance computer engineer; in this day and age, how do employer find him if he isn’t online? No Facebook profile, either. Something was smelling fishy.

 

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A month or so went by, and “Justin” called me nearly every night. I enjoyed our talks, and was truly feeling something for this man. I’d set aside my suspicions, except for a little niggling in the back of my mind. And then he told me he loved me. Frankly, I was astonished. We’d never met, and he loves me? Seriously? He seemed sure of himself, so I went with it, and let him declare his love. I wasn’t in love–yet–but I was developing very strong feelings. Then he began telling me he had a job coming up that was taking him out of the country. He said he was going to Malaysia for a month to negotiate the contract, then he’d return home before going back for a year. He said he wanted me to come with him for that year. Well, from there it all went down hill. The week before he was supposed to leave on this trip his calls were fewer and fewer. The day he left, he didn’t call, and I was angry and hurt; how do you leave the country for a month and not even call the girl you say you love to say goodbye? What the hell was going on? I emailed him, and heard that he’d been running so late he’d nearly missed his flight, and how sorry he was. Yadda yadda yadda. From then on, the excuses flowed like a river. When I told him that my sister suspected he was playing me, he told me he’d planned on coming to Portland on his way back home after his month was up, to surprise me and prove them wrong. Then he said he was having trouble with his bank and couldn’t put minutes on his phone, so couldn’t call me. I really didn’t know what to think at this point, but I was torn. A big part of me wanted him to be real, and to have him show up on my doorstep. But the sensible part of my brain said “Jonna, something is not right here. Find out why!” So I did what I could, and put his picture into Google image search, and hoped against hope that I was actually talking to a man named Justin Peacock. Nope. I got catfished.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term catfish, let me enlighten you. 3454615

catfish

someone who pretends to be someone they are not online to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances. From the 2010 movie Catfish

CATFISHED : Being deceived over social media as the deceiver professed their romantic feelings to his/her victim, but isn’t who they say they are.

Having a fake profile, images and avatar in order to lure people to have romantic feelings. They are then catfished when the victim realises the person they have fallen for via social media is not who they appear to be.

The picture led me to a Google Plus profile of a man in California named Alexander Appleby (his name sounds fake, too, I know). Every picture “Justin” had sent me was from one of Alexander’s profiles, either on Google Plus or Facebook. Just to be sure these were not the same people, I called the business phone number listed on the profile, and spoke to Mr Appleby. I’m not sure if I was hoping to hear “Justin’s” voice or not, but the voice I spoke too was definitely not the man I’d been talking to. And he was rather upset to find out someone had been using his photos in such a manner.

I sent an angry email to Justin, telling him I knew the truth, and wanted to know who he really was, and why he’d done this. Needless to say, I’ve heard absolutely nothing since.

What really bothers me is that I miss him. I miss that imaginary person, and that makes me both sad and angry. I swear, if I ever meet the person behind “Justin Peacock”, I will bring the wrath of the gods down upon them.

random stuff

Random Stuff from My Mind

It’s been an entire month since my last post. Shame on me….bad blogger! I really hadn’t realized it had been so long–every day I intended to write something. There is a REASON I am the Queen of Procrastination, ya know, not just the Princess! Jeez, you’d think someone who can talk as much as I can, about absolutely nothing, would be much better at keeping this blog up to date, wouldn’t you?

Of course, I always think I need to say something meaningful, or at least entertaining, and then I get a bad case of blogger’s block! I don’t know why I think a blog needs to be deep–I read enough of them to know that isn’t true! Some of them make Pauly Shore movies look meaningful! The approach I need to take is this: just write about whatever, and see what happens. Kind of the same thing I do when I talk…ramble

First an update on the last month of my life, in case anyone out there cares:

My bank account, which was hugely overdrawn due to the theft of my debit card, has been mostly fixed. It turned out that my laptop had a huge trojan virus, and a bunch of my info was being taken; I’m actually lucky that they only took such a minor amount of money! I am still trying to convince the bank to refund all of the overdraft fees, but somehow, I doubt that will happen.sigh

Healthwise, things are better. It’s been 31 days since my last seizure (YIPPEE!!), and that is fabulous! The thyroid meds seem to have finally kicked in, because I am FINALLY losing weight. (I hesitate to say that, for fear of jinxing it!) And inches, too. Back in April, I took measurements, and re-took them the other day: all of them were down at least 2 inches! It’s kinda freaking me out, because I’m not really doing anything differently. Still eating mostly green smoothies (except, of course, on those days when I have to have a big bowl of ice cream!), and coffee, and popcorn. Still sitting around on my ass, reading, surfing the net, and watching Netflix! A part of me wonders what is wrong, to cause this; yes, I am paranoid.

I gave up on growing my nails out, because I couldn’t stop from biting them. Frankly, I’d rather wear fakes than have my real ones gnawed down so far they bleed, which is where they end up! My hair still looks terrific, of course.

As for the online dating, well, I met someone. And for now, that is all I am saying about that!

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I’ve spent a lot of time watching Netflix this last month. First I binged on True Blood, and now I’m finishing up Dexter. I didn’t make it through the last 2 seasons of Dexter when it was on the air, so these are new for me. Frankly, after Season 6, I think I would have quit. Maybe even Season 5. It’s not really living up to it’s potential; although I do enjoy getting to see Michael Clarke Duncan naked so often! And I am glad that Masuka got his own little storyline (and that we don’t have to see him naked!).

Still reading Fanfiction, and I just started reading a book called “Fic: How Fanfiction is Taking Over the World”  Anne Jamison, which is turning out to be very interesting. Can’t wait to review it for ya’ll!

A now, my little rant for the day:

I surprised myself today when I discovered an article stating that Barry Manilow got married back in April 2015, to his longtime producer and boyfriend! How did I miss this? Being the Fanilow that I am, how did this tidbit (not the fact that he’s gay– as if that’s a big shock-but the marriage) escape my notice? Honestly. I am a bit disappointed in Barry after reading several articles about this very private wedding (where Suzanne Somers was reportedly his ‘best man’ –and that bothers me, too!), simply because he still has not actually come out. No paperwork has been filed, and he has not made any statements. Apparently, Barry is too worried about his career, worried that his fans won’t understand if he admits he’s gay. To which I say “Oh, PUH-LEEZ! Give me a friggin’ break!” I’ve been a fan since I was in elementary school, and I realized in middle school that he was probably gay (I’m not sure I even really knew what that meant at the time.), but it certainly doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that someone who sings about love so passionately doesn’t have the courage to put his love first. Especially now, when his career is rock solid. I ask you, Barry, “What would Tony do if this were about Lola?”