I’m actually running behind on the updates, because my surgery was on Thursday and my checkups have been mostly on Thursday. This week, I was hoping to have these damn drain tubes and bulbs removed, but that’s not going to happen. The surgeon is wisely and compassionately closing his office to spare his staff from driving in the predicted winter storm, and I have to wait until Tuesday.
I know that many have it worse, but I can only personally reference myself, and I’m tired of having straws sewn into my body, draining PBFs (Precious Bodily Fluids) into clear plastic bulbs which have to be emptied and the amounts logged daily. It spoils my image as a glamorous, sophisticated artiste. Whaddya mean, that’s not my image????
ANYWAY, I also won’t be able to see the medical oncologist on Friday, since we’re predicted to have that winter storm, with ice and sleet, tonight and, living, as I do, on a back road, I probably won’t be able to get out and about. She’s going to call me for a teleconference, though, so that’s all right.
Speaking of which, I have to give you OPDs (Other People’s Doors) today, since I’ve been staying in with my unsightly bulbs. These are more from England, taken by my friends Ginny and Robert Fleming and my British friend, Andrea Gilbey.
Here are my nails this week, preparatory to my surgeon visit which isn’t going to happen:
The sparkly pink base coat is All Mixed-Up Laquers’ Him-a-layin On My Peppercorns (I don’t name ’em, I just use ’em). The white is OPI’s Alpine Snow with a sparkly topper of pop-arazzi’s City Sparkle. The pink stamping polish is Maniology’s Cinnablush. The stamping plate is Maniology’s M153.
Thursday doors is under the direction of Dan Antion, photographer extraordinaire and critter daddy. Visit his site, enjoy his wonderful photographs, follow his directions, and enter a world of doors.
A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: Write about a tube. Or a bulb. Or a tuber.
MA
RAAckerman@Cerebrations.biz
February 11, 2022 at 6:44amDoors and nails. Oh, wait- not those kind of nails. And, tubes…
Brenda's Thoughts
February 7, 2022 at 12:12pmI’m so sorry, Marian. I hope you get in to see the doctor soon. I love the white nail!
Marian Allen
February 7, 2022 at 2:25pmI go tomorrow. Yay!
acflory
February 4, 2022 at 9:52pmUgh, all that paraphernalia must make sleeping hard. Are you managing to get enough rest? Patience, Grasshopper, you’ll be your -cough- glamorous self soon. 😀 -gentle hug so as not to disturb the pipes-
Marian Allen
February 5, 2022 at 10:11amThe paraphernalia (do you know, I was today years old when I knew paraphernalia had an “r” in it?) drapes across my belly and clips to the front of my clothes/nightclothes, like a watch and chain from Hell. Since I sleep on my side, it doesn’t get in the way. For the first week or so, I would have to get up in the night and take a pain pill to finish my sleep, but I do fine, now. Why do you cough? Am I not glamorous? Oh… that’s right… I’m not. Never mind. 😀 Thanks for the gentle hug. MUCH appreciated!
acflory
February 5, 2022 at 5:58pm-snort- you’ve made up for lost time though. :p
I’m glad you can sleep now. Good food, adequate rest, a positive frame of mind with a soupçon of wicked humour make for a healthy Marian. 😀 😀
How are Tipper and Chickie? Behaving themselves?
Marian Allen
February 7, 2022 at 10:41amIf they were behaving themselves, I’d think they were somebody else’s cats.
acflory
February 7, 2022 at 7:05pmlol – I see. Well, there’s a lot to be said for consistency. 😉
circadianreflections
February 4, 2022 at 2:47pmI hope you get the straws out next week then. That portico is lovely! Great doors from your friends across the pond.
Marian Allen
February 5, 2022 at 10:07amThey were so kind, and deliberately took masses of door photos with me in mind. 🙂 I look forward to Tuesday’s surgeon appointment, and plan to have a (small, possibly solitary) Coming-Out Party.
circadianreflections
February 5, 2022 at 10:15am😀
Dan Antion
February 3, 2022 at 7:59pmI hope you don’t have any additional problems heaped upon, you by the storm, Marian. I think you should put a sign in the yard “I’ve had enough!” – I hope, when you do see the doctor, that the plumbing is suitably removed and or restructured.
Marian Allen
February 4, 2022 at 9:49amSo far, so good. We’ve lost a few small branches from dead trees, but (knock wood) still have power. I talked Sara into going home last night, and she says her cat has been MOST affectionate!
Dan Antion
February 4, 2022 at 12:05pmHow have yours been? Are they obeying the ‘no snuggle’ order? Are you?
Marian Allen
February 5, 2022 at 10:06amChickie has never been much of a snuggler, but Sara has taught her to tolerate it by the simple move of scooping her up and holding her prisoner while she (Sara) loves on her (Chickie). Tipper likes to sit on my lap, which is far enough away from my incision that I’ll allow it, as long as my bulbs are protected by a cloth. When my incision was new, he showed a strong desire to open it and see what was inside, but he lost interest once it healed.
Dan Antion
February 5, 2022 at 5:25pmDr. Tipper??
Marian Allen
February 7, 2022 at 10:39amLOL
Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt
February 3, 2022 at 5:26pmPrudence tops getting stuck on a snow-covered road, or sliding into a ditch from an icy road – things to really worry about when you’re already fragile, so I’m glad you’re not going anywhere on such a day. It may actually be better to give yourself a little extra time to rest, recover, and heal. Even if you’re really tired of the inconvenience (whack me upside the head if that is sensitive in the wrong direction). We’re always in such a hurry to bounce back.
Thanks for the update. I will continue to worry until the all clear.
Marian Allen
February 4, 2022 at 9:47amYes, I’m just as glad Sara and I aren’t braving the roads. Much better to sit back in the warmth and read and eat soup! Thank you for the worries. As a mother, I’m convinced that worrying helps. lol
Michael Hodges
February 3, 2022 at 8:49amToday, Marian, you get to enjoy (and perhaps revile) the crude side of Michael. Le Crude du Jour, which means Crude of the Day, or given that I am a crisp old vegetable (gone all crusty), a Crude d’Day.
I had to push a long and difficult way for such a poor joke. While I promise it all happened instantly in my head, the better advice of writers is that sometimes it’s best to forego a joke if one needs must work quite so hard to bring it to bear. Or to Marian, who at the moment feels bearish.
I’m tired. You get what you get.
The more you talked above about “bulbs” and “drains” and “straws” and “precious bodily fluids,” the more I thought “Hmm, isn’t there a point where that’s just exactly what normal, healthy breasts are? Only with husbandly admiration and an attached genetic leech?
“Mmm, nice bulbs, baby!”
“This kid is draining me!”
“…sippy straws”
“I love you, but get off me for a moment you little vampire!”
That’s pretty much the extent of my crudity (I think, there may be random bubbles remaining), but something told me the writer in you would both roll eyes and appreciate the duality of word meanings and application.
I’m very sorry the storm has come along and set your schedule back. I mean that. On that ubiquitous other hand (there really IS one always about, isn’t there?) and sticking to the line of alternate words (yon “bulbs”) I wonder whether you’ve ever sat down to try and list all the varied slang for boobs you’ve heard, or categorizing it according to theme, use, or sex/gender?
Physically, I have always been a face/color man first and foremost. I love faces the same way I love doors and I adore the variety of shapes, proportions, and expressions as they allow the person behind la visage to come through. And when I say color I’m not referring to race, but rather an adoration I have for blend, shade, and tone. Physically I have always loved just beauty as it manifests in the physical realm, and I see it in places both popular and unpopular.
I mention this solely to explain that second-most on a physical level, I am a boob man. That may sound as though it’s all about BIG boobs, but this is a gross misconception. No, there is more to it; and both large and small, Solomon (remember Solomon? revered for his wisdom? THAT Solomon… whose adoration of the breast compared the feminine bosom to doves in both shape and comeliness, and so if he was that wise it simply MUST have been okay… or perhaps I think so because I’m a wise-guy)… yes, Solomon found magic therein… thereof… thereon, by the rumor of it.
Breasts make a sound. Only true aficionados can hear it, for it bridges the real and the ethereal (but no less rea for all that). I call it The Music of the Spheres, and for all my writing skill I cannot describe it to someone who cannot hear it.
Breasts are lovely, and that’s a fact.
Breasts are lovely, even in absentia. Not in an absence some would call “flat-chested,” for that is not absence and a flat female chest is NOT a bad or un-lovely thing, still beautiful. Rather, after removal. We may seek symmetry in falsies and filled bras, and on fierce women scars and symmetry are a marvelous thing (“Tyger, tyger, burning bright, in the forests of the night… what immortal hand or eye dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”).
You’ve had the right attitude all along for this, so my babble lends you nothing new. But from an outsider’s perspective you now bear not just the easy-smile-atop-hidden-depths of the Amazons, you now bear the external mark.
NOT a joke, even if I had to walk a long and rambling walk to get there.
Incidentally, I specify the physical aspect of those beauty preferences above quite precisely because no matter what someone looks like, I am a brain man above all. There have been women to whom I gave little immediate thought in that great and consuming social whirlwind — until they spoke. Capture my mind, intrigue me with your own spirals of thought, inspection, quest, attitude, and curiosity, and you have me. I am most surely sapiosexual above all. But boobs are the thought of the day, so my sapiosexuality and moments of sexuo-spiritual rapture (I made that term up but I think it works) really don’t come into play.
I’ve had very little sleep, and mostly I find I am sitting here, sans coffee, and talking about boobs. Mostly, I think my hope is to entertain you, distract you, take your mind off your boobs by sitting here and talking about boobs as a general thing. Which is odd, I admit. Then again I am odd.
I must have run out of things to say for the moment because I seem to be switching gears. Just as incidentally as all the other incidentals contained herein, this is what a conversation with me becomes IRL. I don’t believe I know how to NOT be “naked on the table,” open to a fault, a study in human weirdness. But I think that is much of the power of my writing: this man will say things others will not… he makes us flinch and laugh and cry… I would not believe this of myself, save that while most do not speak of it in the public forum, the number of private messages and letters I’ve gotten over the years tell me that yes, this seems to be the effect.
Back to your bulbs, your straws, your precious (and precocious) bodily fluids…
Here’s to hoping you feel better, that you weather the storm nicely, that you have access to hot foods and warmth if the power goes out. Here’s to toughing it out in fine spirit. I would think my own mention of Amazons trite flattery were it not for the sincerity of the title, born of my realization that you believe in dragons and swords, and that someone I believe conducts herself in a genteel manner also happens to use words and phrases like “shit,” or “mad fuckery.” I like those little clues to what lies beneath, in their restraint as well as their use; and so I DO feel comfortable with the label Amazon,
Ha — I think this ended up being a letter to you rather than a response to a blog post. All the best letters ramble (this is my defense, and I’m sticking to it).
Time for coffee. I am off! (or so I’ve been frequently told)
Marian Allen
February 3, 2022 at 1:31pmMichael your responses, letters, updates, and musings are always welcome and worthwhile. As for alternate names for boobs, I responded to the news that I would lose one by saying it was just an empty milk jug, anyway. You rock the internet. <3