Bad Blogger

I've been a bad blogger this week, because I haven't updated with all the exciting milestones and the exciting life I have been leading.  Where the hell is that sarcasm font when you need it.


I've graduated to using one crutch exclusively.  I am really, really wanting to ditch the crutch and use that fancy old person cane I have sitting by the door, but I am using that crutch as a crutch.  It makes me feel safe.


I drove for the first time in almost three months this week!  I am no longer requiring the use of my Sherpa on a daily basis.  Now I get to schlep my own shit into the office every day.  I only hope that the afternoon rain showers stop at 4:30 for at least 3 minutes, because that's how long it takes me to get to my freaking car.   Oh, and I saw the inside of the grocery store for the first time in 3 months - thank goodness they didn't change the layout on me.  


I had another successful company management meeting. I threw an awesome day of education and exciting benchmarks for our over 60 strong management team.  Great fun and laughs were had by all!


I had the BEST weekend with the love of my life.  It doesn't matter what we do or where we go, I just love spending my free time with him.  We had a great day yesterday zig-zagging across the county checking out some yard sales.  We met some very interesting characters, a few of which will certainly make it into my book one day.  Oh and found some really cool vintage stuff!


My goal for the week is to ditch the crutch, use the cane, clean off my disaster zone of a desk, finish my USF course, and keep trying to figure out how to use my new Android phone (I swear if I don't figure it out, I'm going to hang it all up and just get the Jitterbug and some Depends...).

Just Not A Good Day

I don't know what sucks more:


Still being dependent on crutches to walk.


Having a two day allergy attack that lowers my already low immune system and getting a        major cold that has put me down.


Getting stung by a freaking scorpion at 1:30 AM  


OR!!!  


All three!  Yeah, that pretty much sums it for me the last couple of days.  I don't know if I want to laugh or cry or rip the sinus cavities out of my head.

Small Steps

I took small steps today.  


I made the bed without my crutches. 


I walked Murphy out to pee on his favorite tree with just one crutch.  That was kinda scary, and won't be trying that again.


I worked in the kitchen and was able to move around without any crutches.  Same thing with the laundry!


It did not kill me, it did not make me cry, and it didn't really hurt all that much either.  


It was scary as hell, but I did it, and I am proud of me!

Put One Foot In Front of the Other

I was given the clearance to start the walking process on Monday - holy hell is it ever a process.  I guess after not putting any pressure onto an appendage for over 10 weeks that it would take a little while to get used to the walking thing again.  
I do okay with the crutches and a little weight - not enough to really hurt, but enough to know that I'm putting some pressure down on something that is completely different than it was a couple of months ago.  I keep reminding myself that it's not going to happen overnight and continue being patient.
I am so anxious to ditch the crutches, because there are so many things I want to do.  I want to dig out my sewing machine, I want to photograph my flowers and the beautiful tortoises that hang out in the front yard every day, and I want to walk my wee little furry friend Murphy.  It's been so long since we walked together - longer than I can remember.  
I want to stop looking like a dummy at the thrift shops with hangers hanging on my crutches.  I want to get back to making my bed every day and helping the love of my life with house chores and dinner.  I want to drive again and I want to stop my daily fight with the restroom door at work. 

Slow and steady, push myself, but know my limitations, right? 


I think I'll sing some Chubby Checker this week when I practice!

Safe Keeping

I was talking with The Head Rat from The Rat's Pack last night and this morning about safely storing some old baseball cards he has up for sale.  
He put the card in in a sandwich bag.  He then put the card in the sandwich bag into an envelope.  I suggested putting the card in the sandwich bag in the envelope into a box just to be on the safe side.  He suggested wrapping the card in the sandwich bag in the envelope in the box in bubble wrap.
And it just got more ridiculous from there.  By the end of it we were both laughing hysterically and the baseball card was safe inside a military tank which was wrapped of course, in bubble wrap.


If you have a minute, check out The Head Rat's booth over on eCrater.  He has some cool stuff that he's getting rid of from his childhood along with some sports memorabilia.  If you are looking for something specific, drop him a line over there or let me know here.  We always run into some crazy stuff down here in The Sunshine State.

Via: The Rat's Pack

What’s In A Name? An Introduction.

I’ve never really introduced myself here, and thought that it was high time I did so.  My name is Tuesday.  Yes, you read that correctly, it’s my real name; it’s what is printed on my birth certificate, and what I have gone by for the last 40 years. 

I’m going to start by answering the first question that probably popped in your head.  No, I was not born on a Tuesday.  I was born in Northern New York, during a massive snow storm, on a Sunday Valentine’s Day afternoon.  I was a week early, and if you listen to my mother, she was convinced I was a boy.  Guess she was pretty surprised when she didn’t see any bits hanging. 

Why Tuesday?  Why not?  My mother’s given name is Kathryn, and she was called Kathy.  She said while growing up, there were always a lot of Kathy’s.  She wanted my name to be unique, something to stand out from the crowd.  Well, Tuesday certainly stands out.  Since I was a boy, the name was already decided on by both of them, William Joseph (thank goodness I was a girl), they didn’t do such a good job of hacking out the girl name.  There was NO WAY my mother was having a girl.  SURPRISE!!!!!

Dad wanted the cutesy names that my mother didn’t like of the very early 1970’s; Melissa or Melanie is what she told me in an email this morning, but I remember her telling me at one time it was Jessica or Jennifer.  Mom wanted Elizabeth or Rachael, of which my dad felt both were too old fashioned.  I guess when push came to more pushing, my mother decided that since she was doing all the work (um, pushing) that she would pick the name.  She chose Tuesday Ann, and told the nuns at the hospital to write it down, and to not allow anyone ("ahem, specifically the father Sister”) change it.

To sum that part of my introduction up, yes I love my name, no, I have never though of changing it (except maybe a brief time when I was 7 years old and wanted to be a Jessica like every other girl in my class or maybe Olivia, because then I could make out with Johnny T in my favorite movie Grease - give me a break I was 7).  It is unique, it does grab a person’s attention, and there’s not very many other’s running around with the same name.  I could bore you to tears with stories about other "unique" names people I've met over the years, but I won't. 

I am a newly minted 40 year-old, and have just recently been able to sputter those words.  They still hurt sometimes though.  I took a different route in life than many do and joined the Navy when I got out of high school.  It enlightened me, I learned from my experience, and I’m glad that I had the opportunity.  I started college when I got out of the Navy and it took me 11 years to finish.  I paid for college myself, took one or two classes at a time, and had a few bumps along the way.  When I finally decided on what I wanted to focus on, I made practically straight A’s.  I graduated with Honors from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock in 2004 with a degree in communication studies (that means I know how to communicate with people…).

Currently I am living in Florida with the love of my life, who I met over 20 years ago on a blind date, and our wee little Cairn Terrier, Murphy MacDonald, Lord of the Isle.  I work in administration at a not-for-profit organization.  One of my favorite things to do, and the inspiration for the blog title, is spending time on the beach.  I love the water, the salty sea air, the sound of the waves, the sand, and especially seashells.  A couple of years ago I started golfing, which is a lot of frustration and fun rolled into one.  If given a choice between shopping and fishing, I’ll beat you to the boat.  I could spend every day for the rest of my life fishing, catch nothing, and be a very happy girl.  I love to read.  I will be honest, I don’t read to better myself (unless I have to), I read because I want that escape from reality, whatever it may be.  I like to sew, though I’m working on perfecting (okay, getting moderately good at) that skill.  I’ve learned to crochet recently, and have all the stuff to knit, but haven’t taken that plunge yet.  I don’t like to shop.  I love thrift stores and yard sales though and can spend hours looking for something special for a small price.  

I would like my blog to be about me, but I also hope to bring my love of books, my love of the sea, my love of golf along with some other surprises to anyone out there who stumbles on it.  I would love nothing more than to see this take off into something amazingly wonderful, but I will be happy the way it is. 

Bitter

I'm bitter, and I feel bad about it.  


I am tired of well-meaning friends calling and asking me what I am up to.  You really want to know?  Well, today, I got out of bed, went to the couch, opened my laptop, and have been watching the Casey Anthony trial streaming on the Internet, pretty much non-stop.  I have not moved from the couch.  I can't tidy up the house, I can't run down to the beach, I can't help the love of my life while he's out sweating do death working in the yard.  You may recall that I am recovering from major ankle surgery.  It's been 2 months since I have walked, and frankly, I am becoming bitter.  I am tired of the rest of the world being able to go on with their lives and not have to worry about swelling and pain and crutches and handicapped parking places and stupid people who disregard someone who is hobbling around on crutches.  I am bitter because I am tired of being like this.


I feel bad because I am snapping at those closest to me when I know they mean well.  I feel bad because I know they aren't rubbing in their good times to me, they are my friends, and they are sharing life with me, as I've shared life with them.  I don't have anything to share with them though, and when I do share, I feel like I am seeking pity about my situation.  


Currently, my life is a lot of waiting.  I'm waiting for bone to fuse, bone to heal, calcification to take place.  I have to sit quietly, stay safe, and do nothing to jeopardize the work that has been done.  Waiting has become bitterness.  Of course this will pass, I will be back to my old self soon, but for now, I want to be bitter and angry.  

Might As Well Face It I’m Addicted to Blogs

There, now you have an ear worm too!

Over the last few weeks, just when I thought that I was finally getting around to reading the end of the Internet, I started reading blogs, lots of blogs.  I’ve had one or two saved over the years that I follow pretty religiously, but this recent craze of mine is, well, blog-a-lishous!  I’ve found stuff that interests me, stuff that doesn’t, people who are living out their dreams, and those who are having a tough time with life.  I’ve learned new ideas, new techniques, and new trends.

The best thing I have found from reading blog after blog after blog is inspiration.  It’s funny that in this world full of billions of people that you can find something to read, by a real person, about something that you are interested in all the while gaining a new and different type of perspective other than the same old boring one you’ve been dragging around for years.

What’s that definition of insanity; doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results?  Is that totally true?  For the most part, yes it is, but in the world of blogging there can be 50 (or even 5000) of the same type of blog, but each one will have a different outcome or result.  Why is that?  I believe that it’s one trait that we are all born with, but some people never realize it while others take it and amazing things happen.  It’s called creativity.  I’m sure there’s some study out there about creativity and the traits that one has to hold to gain maximum potential.  I mean, there really is only one Sistine Chapel, right?

I really want to work on my creative traits that I know are lurking just below the surface.  I want to be able to push back from my desk and look at my blog and see something that probably a gaggle of other people have out there, but is uniquely mine and it stands out for me.  I want to be proud of what has grown out of a whim and hopefully into something great, something that I can cultivate like a garden and watch thrive and grow. 

I want the finished product to be kind of like a piece of sea glass.  You throw broken bottle pieces into the sea, and on a beach somewhere thousands and thousands of miles away the most beautiful piece of tumbled glass that is as unique as I am is found by another creative soul who will use that piece of glass for inspiration.