Ketchup

Hello everyone, you're still stuck with me it appears. I have a little philosophy about blogging that keeps me away from the game: if I don't have the time to read yours, I don't write because I wouldn't expect you to read mine.

That, of course puts me out of touch a lot longer than I like to be.

I hope you're all well and life's treating you just as well.

So much going on in my end of the world, mostly routine stuff, nothing special, just a lot of it, ya know?

My eyes are shot. I went to an Optometry place on Friday for further confirmation of total systems failures. I found out I have a pretty nice vision care plan. It took care of everything with a $40 co-pay all around. Only thing is, the optometry place has to send my frames to the vision plan people, 'cause they have to make the glasses. And the only other thing is that it will take two weeks. So I'll continue bumping into walls, driving off cliffs, etc. till then, k?

I'm very involved in taking care of Pop as his condition gets a little tougher on him (cause I suck like that, ya know) But, Pop is hanging tough still. His care is a lot more demanding, as is he, these days, and that means a lot of driving, sitting in waiting rooms. His tolerance for foods has improved some, which means he can eat something other than rice and toast, so it's all good. I made him a brisket, a grilled cheese and a roast chicken so far, and no, er, fallout so to speak. I'm tellin' ya, as a caretaker, wow, I rock, if I must say so myself. I actually got a bedsore to heal completely (receiving kudos from the wound care specialist, by the way!)

And I've plunged head-long into a new career. It's one that's more adapted to our life situation, and allows me a little leeway with my hours. Totally not what I'd thought I'd be doing at this stage in my life, but, one never knows.

Thank you to all of you who expressed concern as to my well-being. That was nice to hear/read. Guess I can't suck all that bad, ya know, if people who really do know me still come around despite that. It's always nice to know that people who aren't afraid to stand behind their convictions think enough of me to worry about me :)

Love ya all.

No Longer A Loser...

Good evening. It's time for an announcement!

I have been "Loser" for a long time. (not A loser, just "Loser") It's one of the many terms of endearment that my closest friends tagged me with. (You don't think I named myself Lippy, do ya?)

But things have been going on that have made me reconsider my status.

We have losers all over the place these days. Look at television: we have losers on news shows, losers on gossip shows. We have court shows where we watch losers try to unscrew themselves and each other; we have 27 year old losers having babies with 15 year olds, and they use DNA testing to tell us which loser is the REAL father; we have losers living in houses with other losers, trying to out-loser each other, losers looking for love, looking to get out of love and a Springer show where the whole concept IS losers, and a Shrink getting rich exploiting losers and trying to fix them. And we have a show where they actually decide on an award for the bigger Loser.

And it's not just TV; we have a political process that is basically telling us to eliminate the least loser-ish of the whole pack so that we can pick a President. Our economy is in the dumper in large part because a bunch of Wall Street Losers thought they could get rich by giving mortgages to people who never should have gotten them. And now, of course, the REAL losers are the ones who got stuck with a bunch of worthless investments. It just stinks.

Enough. I'm out of the club.

I need a new nickname. We've ditched StupidJimmy and now Loser has bitten the dust. Sigh. I'm sad, but I don't want to be associated with anything Loser-ish anymore, K?

Friends Who Fit

This is something I'd written before, and I was kinda proud of it, so I took the liberty of sharing it here...

Nancy, over at Notions Of Nancy, posted a great question in her Journal. It's something I occasionally think about when I try to get motivated to write. She wants to know how we define "friendship".

This is something I can pretty much answer on the fly. A true friend, in my opinion, is a relationship that has no strings. There are no precepts, no demands, there's pretty much no thinking. It's as natural a fit as the skin we're born into. It's a social situation that requires no conscious effort. It's the one thing in life that is truly a gift. It isn't made, it happens naturally.

A true friend is someone you don't have to dress up for...they see you in your pajamas and it makes no difference. You don't have to "try" as you do in a job, the things you do are instinctive - a reflex. They never ask, demand, everything just goes in succession. You never have to wonder if they'll enjoy sharing something with you, your gut tells you it's so. You're never, ever sorry to be in their presence. If you don't see them for months, you pick right up where you left off.

A friendship with someone like that is the refreshment you get when life leaves you thirsty. It rejuvenates your soul - it never saps your energy. It's the one time in your life when there is no work involved, much the way the effort that goes into a hobby is never "work". It's something you relish and cherish, and can never get enough of.

There are no conditions to a true friendship. It either fits, or it doesn't meet the definition. Conditions create obligations, obligations create imbalances, imbalances create resentments, resentments destroy true friendships.

A true friend never has to "lend support". Think about it: When a house is in danger of falling, it must be fostered up with external measures. A truly strong house has an unfailing foundation - a true friendship is support enough in itself.

True friends don't love you for all you do for them - they love you because you're alive, and in their lives. The rest just falls into line.

And it's a beautiful thing. Believe me. I have friendships like that.

Why don't you post your own opinion? Go visit Nancy and leave a link when you do.

Tough Guy?

I'm swearing off Chicken Parmigiana forever. More about that later...

So tonight, I'm sitting here with my thumb all wrapped up. I had it in ice earlier, and will again before I sleep. It's a mess, my hand is swollen and it sort of hurts a lot.

So how did this grave hand injury occur? A shining football moment? An errant punch in the boxing ring? A horrific cycling accident maybe?

How about "none of the above"?

I did it scrubbing out a pot. Or more precisesly trying to scrub out a baking pan. I decided to add double the amount of elbow grease, and when I gave it my best, I don't know exactly how it happened, but WHAM. Slammed the thumb into the sink, heard a major crack, and I think my thumb touched my elbow.

Oww. Yeah.

So it hurts, it's all blown up, and I hurt it washing dishes.

So macho. I hate this. I need some testosterone I think. Or a cigar.

...back to the chicken: I'm swearing it off. Anything that won't scrub off with Brillo after a half-hour soak isn't something I want to put into my G.I. tract anymore.

Ok, Sissy Lippy is going to bed now.

Just Curious...

If you have a minute, some input would be appreciated. Click here :)

Nothing At All?

I have a friend whom I get together with too rarely these days.

When we do manage to get some time to hang it, it's usually a marathon, though. 2 - 3 AM is not unlikely. Someone asked me the other night, "So what the heck do you guys talk about so long when you're together?"

Funny thing is, we don't talk so much, come to think of it. We hang out, do thing, watch movies, whatever, but there isn't a ton of talking going on. Yet this is one of my best friends.

Does that make sense? Do you have friends like that?

Quick Break...

And While I'm At It...

Sometimes we only apologize to people when they confront us with the thing we did wrong. But sometimes, we really feel sorry the minute we do something wrong, only we don't have an opportunity to see the person we hurt, and then our apology might not seem sincere.

I have hurt people lately, and I know it. Only I really didn't mean to. I didn't want them to feel bad, or slighted. "I can't help it" or "it was out of my control" is just so weak.

The nice thing about a blog is, it's a way to timestamp what we were thinking or feeling the moment it happens. I want my friend to know that I'm sorry. I'll say so when I see my friend. But I want this as a permanent record that I really feel terrible about the kind of friend I've been. So after I make the proper apology, I might use refer to this in hopes of proving my sincerity.

I love her. I just do a lousy job of showing it sometimes.

I'll Say It!

Self-promotion is rarely tolerated. But I'm going to do some, so THERE!

I'm a good boy. Yeah, that's right. I whine a lot about the long drive to NY with Pop when he has to go see his Doc. (It's a 250 mile round trip). Well, yesterday, I made an even longer drive. Why? To take my 91 year old Grandma to lunch. It rained like a monsoon, I didn't cancel. The traffic was horrendous, I kept on going.

I got there and told her she could pick any restaurant she wanted. She chose Applebee's. (Need I say this is one of the reasons you gotta love Grandma? I love me some Applebee's). And the two of us went, ate lunch, and sat b.s.-ing in the restaurant for nearly 2 hours (the waitress was tipped well, smarty).

She was absolutely beaming. Yeah, and that beam was 'cause of ME! (Gram is the only person I'd ever feel brave enough to make that statement about)

So yeah, for one day, I was a good boy. Kudos gladly accepted.