Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

TWIL: Hey Jude

I had no idea that Hey Jude has an F-bomb in the recorded track. 

It's at 2min and 58sec in, barely audible, and it happened because either Lennon or McCartney thought he screwed up and said "fucking hell."

I was excited to put in my earbuds and try to summon my hyperacusis. I might have heard it. I heard something.

As an alternative, this has it isolated, very clear, and repeated in an annoying fashion.

 

Monthly summer health roundup

Me, Gynecologist. Good lord. Six years since my last visit to the crotch doctor. That was for the fasiculations in my pelvis. I forgot all about the pelvic banjo. That did go away. Certainly didn’t think that there would be a pelvic timpani four years later.

Anyway, it was the most painful exam I have ever had. The nurse practitioner attributed it to vaginal atrophy. I’ve assumed that means one’s vaginal/pelvic muscles atrophy. But no, evidently it means the expandable elastic quality of one’s vagina decreases. Same size, just less stretchy. Less able to accommodate a baby head or a speculum. Not at all what I think of when I hear "atrophy" but now I know.

And then it went on and on because she found a cyst on my cervix. It's common, she said, just need to come back and do all this over again in a few weeks with the legit doctor so he can check it out. 

One more little exam and, hello, blood in stool. I already had my colonoscopy scheduled because the Cologuard showed my DNA was sketchy so I'm ahead of the game there. Of course the next day I got both a stress-triggered ocular migraine (half rainbows half paperclips) and a bout of tinnitus that was two octaves lower than usual.

• The male and female hormones are dead center for my age, but chatGPT begs to differ. A bit much bound testosterone, it clucks. 
• Pap smear is fine as always.
• The HPV blood test was normal, as always, no HPV here, thanks for playing.

So no news on the front-side front until mid August when I get ratcheted open again and told that everything looks fine, no need for concern, common cyst. 

Hopefully no news on the back-side front either after the colonoscopy in early August. 

Loaner car: opportunity missed

When I dropped off my loaner I saw THIS loaner in the bay, just parked and waiting for someone else. Look at the sticker on the passenger door.

Seriously. How did I not get the MS branded loaner?

Weekly Paint Progress: 7/17

So this was the 2019 toy dog bank:

This was the 201i toy dog bank, much improved on the bank front but the ball and glass jar could be better.

I think it’s time for another toy bank, only this time with more muted colors and more accuracy in the base, the ball, and the jar. I’m going to use the painting above as my reference and see how that goes.

Loaner car realized

Well, good. The loaner car from the dealer is not the vinyl-tarted-up embarassment I dreaded.

It is a pretty green gas-powered Mini. Only a little tarty. 

Art Museum: Roar

In a few weeks the Saint Louis Art museum will close a very popular exhibit called Roar, about fashion and vehicles.

This was my favorite car: half wood / half metal. 

It was remarkable not only for the vehicles but also for the security. I believe there was a docent, a security guard, and a secret agent for every person in the exhibit. I was even tempted to pop open a door and take a seat. 

Zoo: Baby elephant

Finally!

He is cute.

It was a long trek to see him, though. 

I have a YouTube Short of him wandering about and attempting to eat a rock here: https://youtube.com/shorts/CEmkGNXReNc?feature=shared  

TWIL: Gary knows a lot about turtles

Two neighbors were outside, the guy across the street and his next-door neighbor. One waved at me as I was walking from the back yard to the front. I was happy that I was embracing a huge basket full of weeds because I had neglected to add a bra under my t-ahirt. 

“Are you missing a pet?” he yelled.

“No,” I said, and thought, “This is going to be a lecture on feeding raccoons.”

“I thought your pet turtle might have escaped,” he said, and pointed to my driveway.

When I saw the massive 10-inch turtle in my driveway, I dropped the basket of weeds, bosom be damned.

“Watch out,” the other man said, “We think it might be a snapping turtle,” I was already bent over having a conversation with it, unconcerned for my bare toes and floppy boobs. 

I said, “Oh, I have to get Gary,” and went in to tell him he had to come out NOW for an unspecified reason.

I was discussing the other wildlife with the neighbors by the time Gary stuck his head through the kitchen door the into the open garage. 

He said, “Is that an armadill - wait - nope,” he said and shut himself back inside. “Putting on my shoes,” he yelled. 

“Big Baby!” I yelled back, and rolled my eyes at the neighbor men. 

He has never put in his shoes that fast, and soon he was standing between me and my new friend Mr. Turtle. “Ellen. Get back. That’s a Freshwater Alligator Snapping Turtle.”

The neighbors scattered. Gary got the snow shovel and I got the magnetic metal finder on a stick and we worked in tandem - almost without yelling - to get the creature moved to the big bed of thyme because Gary said it was dying without food or water. It filled up the majority of the 18-inch square snow shovel.  I did notice -- as the turtle was biting the magnet head of my metal device -- that it had a really weird tongue, with a hole, like part of it had been partially punched out. The fleshy part of the tongue that should have been in the hole was just dangling there. Like a pink floppy hanging chad, for those who remember the Bush/Gore election. And - this is key - that’s the distinguishing feature of the alligator snapping turtle. It’s an evolutionary lure used to catch fish, because it resembles a worm. 

He loved the thyme and the thyme bed, but didn't stay long, just long enough to imagine how good thyme would taste with pork, before Gary had us moving him into the back of Gary’s car. 

By the time we had driven to the creek a mile away, the turtle had crawled entirely across the back of the car and his nose was touching the back of the driver’s seat. Gary says the turtle intended to kill me; I said he just wanted to take the wheel because he wanted to test out an electric car. 

The turtle now lives in a creek nearby, if he hasn’t made it to the river by now. Good thing Gary was around, otherwise I’d be in the position these British veterinarians were in, cuddling with the cute baby turtle and (ironically) naming it Fluffy.

Foreign food

I have aged out of food. I was looking for foods in the Clayton area, and found a place full of foods I don't recognize.

It's the Ivy Cafe in Clayton. 

First off, they sell lots of tartines. Loads of them. I was perplexed, because I don't know what that food is. Evidently it is what I would call an open-faced sandwich. Avocado toast is a tartine. Welsh rarebit is a tartine. Vegetables with feta and russian dressing could be a tartine. Velveeta and hotdogs on toast could be a tartine. 

Second, and this scared me a bit, there are four non-tartinated items that I don't recognize as food or drink.

Clockwise from top right: 

Creme burpee -  No idea, unless that is just a really poor spelling of creme brulee. I see the berries but no scorched sugar. 

Meramek, buckingham -  Buckingham Whats. I have no idea. Tartines? 

Butterfly pea medicine - The photo shows grape Kool-Aid pouring out of a pitcher filled with clear water. But butterflies? Peas? Medicine? Is there a companion drink called Katydid Bean Elixir?

Butterfly pea matcha - Again with the butterfly peas, but matcha this time, not medicine. I think matcha is a powder you add to hot drinks. Maybe? 

There was something else called Golden Drink which at least made some sense in that it was bright gold and it was in a cup. 

I'm really slightly convinced this is all an AI hallucination. 

Alleged loaner car

More than once I have needed work done on a car. Usually Gary and I drive both cars to the dealership at midnight and drop the key in the slot.

Gary doesn't feel well enough to drive the 45 minutes to the dealer. I still made the appointment, and when I was explaining why I might have to wait for the service to be done, she asked if I needed a loaner car.

"Lies," I thought. "Loaner cars don't exist." 

I don't know why I think this. Perhaps once I was promised a loaner 45 years ago and it didn't materialize? Young people at work say loaners aren't always in prime working condition, and they are often "wrapped" in vinyl advertising patches, but they exist. 

I said yes, a loaner sounds great, but I'm making backup plans like taking a taxi to a rental place and spending airline miles on a car. 

Or am I being paranoid?

Weekly Paint Progress: 7/10

This week the iris went from this:

... to this …

… when it was originally this.

That's a wrap on the iris.

This one felt pretty loose. The next thing to work on - again - is the palette. I've noticed my colors are recently garish compared to what I'm aiming for. 

 

Gary again tells me something I don't know about him

Gary mentioned his birthmark today, just in passing, and as always when these occasions arise, when Gary throws out things like "You know, when I was in that diving accident" or "You know, when I set my bedroom floor on fire," I said, "Wait what?"

What birthmark? Because, seriously, what birthmark? 

I think I expected a Gorbachov-level birthmark, but it's just a little dark spot on his left hand. I'm sure it was noticeable when he was a child, but I knew that hand well when he was a young man and I never noticed it.

At his age it's competing with age spots and that weird pentagram nonsense to the right of the circle. Plus, frankly,  I'm walking around with the vestiges of my extra thumb sprouting out of the side of my right hand. Please, with your birthmark. 

Now, though, if I lose him, I can say he can be identified by the birthmark on his left hand.

Bullets brought to you by the letter "S"

• Sky. I have never seen a full-sky sunset. You can spin around in the yard and see pink and blue everywhere.

This is the view to the southeast tonight. Not a typical sunset locale.

Such a sunset  is usually documented by eight of my Facebook friends posting the same sky, but not tonight, oddly.

• Skinny. I knocked off two more pounds, so that was a surprise. I have decided to just change my goal to 200 pounds, not 190. I have a local friend who now lives in California and describes himself as "Midwest skinny." My new goal is now to be "Menopausal skinny."
• Sex. Now that I've complained about this ludicrous sex drive to doctors, I find that I get bonus tests labeled "High-risk HPV" and "High-risk Hep B". I have neither illness, but I keep getting tested as if I'm going to stumble into a random penis and catch it. 

Review: Get Back

I know, we're four years late on this, but I just found Gary has been paying for Disney since Hamilton came out in 2020 ( I KNOW). I'm probably going to say all the same things everyone else said four years ago about the Beatles documentary Get Back.

Like:

• Dig a Pony is the most shit song I have ever heard in my life. Who said it was garbage? George? George has Something in his back pocket and they come up with this word salad? I’d [SPOILERS] quit the band too. Seriously, I spent six hours waiting for Alan Parsons (yes, that same guy) or someone to say, “Dig a Pony isn't for real, right? You're not playing that on the roof, right?” I am surprised Dig a Pony was not on my list of Beatles songs I’ve never heard but also thankful.
• Just like everyone else, we began playing the “That’s the take” game. We called it three of four times. That’s the game when you realize they are singing the track that made it in the album, the one that’s etched into your neurons. 
• I wished they had kept in some explanation of why the British politics anti-immigrant slant was taken out of Get Back. 
• I liked it far better than Gary did. He couldn’t tolerate the friction.