Suziecreamcheese Sings the Blues

I should be grading but I’m really good at procrasting that particular task. I’ve been reading Threads and X and “news” articles and seeing a lot of stuff about GenX and how feral they were and how they grew up and how terrible Boomers are.

Dear GenX,Y, Z, Millenial, whatever. I’m sick of your bullshit. Here’s a news flash. You might have been the last to do some things, but you weren’t the first.

Also, we invented the internet and all this electronic shit that you assume we can’t manage to figure out. We can, we just enjoy watchig you act all superior while you tell us how to do it. Kinda like when your kid explains something that you’ve known for a long time, but they just discovered.

Nope, not gonna sell my house because you think I don’t need all this space. Bear and I have worked hard for this place, go pee up a rope if you think we owe it to you. Inheritance? Don’t count on it.

Oh and we had it so much easier? We lived through the assassination of a president, his brother, and a leader of the black community. (John and Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, in case you have no grasp of history at all) I was in 6th grade when John Kennedy was killed. My memories of Lyndon Johnson smiling on that plane and of little JohnJohn saluting the casket of his dad will never fade.

We lived through Viet Nam. How many of you have had to pray your number didn’t come in the draft lottery, that you wouldn’t be sent to a country you’d never heard of before to fight a war that made no sense? We protested, and yes, we burned shit down. But we called it what it was, none of this “mostly peaceful” shit. And when we hated the President, we voted – at the polls, none of this mail in shite – and got somebody elected. We didn’t wear pussy hats and dye our hair blue. And that reminds me, abortion was never meant to be birth control and if you give it up to a guy for nothing, that’s how he’s gonna think of you -as nothing.

We fought our asses off to keep people from being labeled. We wanted to be equal, as in “everyone gets the same opportunity to fuck up,” not, “you get a greater opportunity to fuck up because you’re ……………… pick a label.”

We were held accountable for bad behavior, “anxiety” as the cause of something would have gotten you a smack upside the head and a “now you have a reason to worry.” Act out in public? You’ll get your ass hauled out of public and dealt with in private – if you’re lucky.

Did we fuck up? Sure, just like every generation before and after. News flash, the year you’re born doesn’t make you special. (Unless you’re Jesus) (And also news flash, you’re not)

The cause of my annoyance this morning was reading someone’s post bemoaning that her dad was in the ER getting stitches for a cut he’d somehow managed to get and no one told her. Why, why, why are Boomers like that? she bemoaned. Well, maybe because we were brought up by parents like my mom, who said, and I quote “Do you want sympathy? Look it up in the dictionary, it’s between shit and syphillis” I had no idea what syphillis was but I knew it was after sympathy in the dictionary, and also, that I wasn’t gonna get a whole lot of “poor babies” when I had a minor injury. (Or a major one, I lasted three days with abdominal pain before suggesting we go to the doctor, who recommended the ER, where the next day I was diagnosed with a ruptured appendix) (Momma didn’t raise weak women)

Also, about the third time we tell you that we’re having any kind of health issues, you start looking at assisted living because you don’t want to have to deal with us, and you’re eyeballing that big house you think you deserve to inherit. News flash 3, that big house will have to be sold for us to afford any decent assisted living and you can’t afford it, and newsflash 4, you aren’t going to inherit it no matter what. We also just plain don’t want you all up in our business.

And also? Get off my lawn.

and use the damned template I created for you to do your homework instead of some raggedy ass thing that makes no sense to anyone but you and your anxieties.

*damn I’m cranky today!

Yesterday was a very strange day. It felt like there was a black cloud over everything, nothing was right, everything was sad, I had a total meltdown because Bear is having some health issues and I just lost my shit – I’m normally the cockeyed optimist but this day was just wrong from start to finish.

I ordered a prayer journal from Amazon. It was meant to be delivered yesterday. I got a message saying it had been delayed, right after I got a notice saying it was 10 stops away. Umm, well? It continued to show that it was delayed and would be delivered today, until it showed up at my back door and suddenly became “delivered.” We were checking every few minutes and laughing – so in spite of it being a cluster, thanks for lightening the mood, Amazon. (I’m not sure why they have that overnight delivery thing, it hardly ever happens)

My nephew, the recipient of my meltdown yesterday, is staying with us for a bit. (He’s an adult, so we actually have conversations and I don’t have to tell him to eat his vegetables) He’s a huge football fan, and his team – the Patriots – is playing in the Super Bowl. Consequently there are Super Bowl snacks in my kitchen, something that has never happened before. Okay, it’s only chips and dip, and cheese and crackers, and deviled eggs, but still. He’s really funny to watch during a football game, he is so into it, we just laugh. Bear is a football fan, I am not but this is just silly. Also, we will not be watching the Half Time show, I’m not into people who hate America. We’ll be watching the Turning Point show on YouTube.

So I have to have a meeting with the ass dean next week because apparently a student complained about something (Ass = assistant, by the way, but “ass” is more apt) I got an email on Tuesday evening telling me to meet with him on Wednesday morning. Umm, I don’t think so. One of the wonderful things about colleges is that they will demand you attend a meeting because of student complaints but refuse to tell you what those complaints actually are. I refused to attend, stating that I needed to know what this was about. After my third request for information was denied, I contacted my union rep. I was then told by the ass dean that “you don’t need a union rep.” Sweetheart, I’ve been around a long time, if you say I don’t need a union rep, I need a union rep So it’s been fun trying to co-ordinate schedules but it appears it may happen this week. Good, I might get a chance to vent my frustration with the way the curriculum has been gutted. Or, I might not have a job. Either way, I’m fine with it.

JoAnn fabrics used to sell a brand of yarn called Juicy Couture. I bought some once when it was on sale and made a crocheted puppy. It was stupid expensive, I got it on sale. Well, JoAnn is no longer with us, but Ollie’s apparently bought up their inventory. (If you don’t have an Ollie’s, I’m sorry. Their tag line is “good stuff cheap” and they live up to it!) Well. The nephew wanted to go look for some stuff, and you can always find stuff at Ollie’s, so I went along. And lo and behold! They have that yarn!!!!!!!1111 Well. I had no choice. (Okay I did but whatever) I got some to make another puppy And I’ve spent today talking myself out of going back for more. Nope, not doing it. But tomorrow is another day.

We’re in the midst of a deep freeze. Anyone who likes this weather needs their meds adjusted. This is nuts.

You know that pain chart that hangs in the doctor’s office?

I think most people live between 0 and 1.

I live at 5. There are days when 3 stops by, and then there are days when 8 decides it would be fun to spend the day on the sofa. I’ve had a lot of those 8’s lately, hence the lack of blog posts. I try to make the most of the days when it’s a 4 or 5 so that doesn’t leave much time for being on the computer.

I had an MRI a few weeks ago that showed :

1. Chronic complex tears of the bilateral acetabular labra and suboptimally evaluated bilateral femoroacetabular joint osteoarthrosis as described. 2. High-grade partial-thickness tear of the left gluteus minimus insertion, as well as low-grade partial-thickness tearing of the bilateral conjoined hamstring tendon origins.

And that’s just the left side. (It’s actually the worst, but the right side is a mess too)

What the hell? It appears I ripped a butt muscle. Leave it to moi. I have an appointment with orthopedics in a couple of weeks to discuss what we can do about this situation. I have a TENS machine that I use religiously, and i’m just doing what I can, with a great deal of help from the Bear. Between us, we are almost a healthy person!

There is also some major drama going on with my family. Bear and Maverick and I are fine, this is another family member. Someone is finding out what happens when you poke this dragon. When I can, I will tell the story.

Meanwhile, being on the disabled list has allowed me to catch up on some knitting. I’m making a red, white and blue Wallaby – fun with counting stripes when the pattern suddenly decides that the middle of a row is the beginning. *There’s a valid reason for that. I’m counting rows in one place and decreases in another! It’s only a child’s size 4, so it’s not a major amount of stitches, but it’s enough to make my brain work a tad.

I’m about to finish Charlie Kirk’s first book, and then I need something light so I believe it will be How to Read a Book – that was the last book for my book club and we didn’t get to it because of the faculty strike. (And that was almost pointless, sigh)

And……….if I have to have surgery……………I’m going for the most blinged out cane ever created!