I am guilty of making assumptions about people. I’m such a hypocrite!
That’s probably the worst part of being in my situation. Strangers have come up to me and talked S-L-O-W-L-Y A-N-D D-E-L-I-B-E-R-A-T-E-L-Y, assuming that just because I’m in a wheelchair and need an iPad to speak, that I’m slow or incapable of thinking for myself. It takes a while for me to type, so I can’t express what I’m thinking quickly, which, in hindsight, is probably for the best. My parents or one of my sisters will come to my defense.
As I said, I feel like a huge hypocrite when I’ve thought how it’s what you have insidethat counts, but spend $200 or $300 at Anthropologie, or comment on someone’s lack of fashion sense. When someone is wearing horrible clothes (or at least, what I would consider horrible clothes), I assume lots of things: maybe they lost their job or maybe they have just given up. But then later I remind myself of the old saying, When you assume, you make an a** out of you and me! So actually, I’m now doing what so bugs me when other people do it to me.
Nancy always dreaded this part of her walk to and from work. As an animal lover, the cur she passed by every day broke her heart. With a chain around its neck and its extreme skinniness, it was obvious that it hadn’t felt love in a while, if at all.
On numerous occasions she had called animal control, only to get the same answer. That there were hundreds of dogs like Eliza, a name Nancy and her daughter had given her, in Los Angeles.
On dozens of occasions, her daughter had begged to keep Eliza, but Nancy wasn’t so sure. A dog like that has to have issues. Fleas being one, but what if the dog hadn’t had socialization in a while? She watched Animal Planet and knew how important that was.
Over the next week Nancy carefully tested things out, first leaving food, then trying to pet her through the chain link fence—Nancy felt a warm tongue when she did that, and realized she was harmless.
She gave in. Over the weekend there would be a dog rescue, but Nancy was racking her brain on how to get Eliza there, since the dog was behind a low chain link fence. On her way to work Friday she tried to open the gate, relieved when it opened.
Saturday it was easier that she though it would be. Nancy slipped Eliza’s collar off while her daughter stood watch.
The first thing she got was a bath. Though she seemed unsure, Eliza was patient, as though grateful. She curled up in her brand new bed, love and gratefulness in her eyes.
Nancy only had had pure breads growing up, and had been sort of nervous around mutts—for one, you don’t know their true personality. But Eliza changed that view. All a dog needed was to be shown love, whether a fancy show dog or a complete mutt.
As a kid I used to love The Little House storybook. I loved the illustrations best because, although it has a happy ending, the story made me sad. I now realize my hometown of Corona, California, is exactly like The Little House. The homes from the 1900s, when Corona’s main business was citrus, now have gas stations or yoga studios as neighbors.
I know business is progress, I just think a Craftsman house from 1910 is too good to have a mini mart across the street.
I didn’t like math or science in school. You have X and Y, but if you do everything right, Z tends to happen. I guess I didn’t think like that. Still don’t. But at least there is a right and a wrong answer. Most things aren’t that cut and dry.
Take politics. Just because I’m a registered Republican doesn’t mean I have to like everything they do. Or even the president (no comment) for that matter.
I’m so sick of watching the news. More and more it’s like you vs. me, with neither side willing to consider the other.
Like I said, most things aren’t black and white. We should leave that to scientists and mathematicians.
A warning: due to descriptions that might make you want to lose your lunch, proceed with caution when reading this post.
I’m kidding, but by the way it looks, I would never be brave enough to try it either. Friday nights are our “wing-it nights” for dinner. “What do you feel like?” Mom or Dad asks at about 3:30 or 3:45 (no joke). I was on a Mexican pizza from Taco Bell kick for a while. With a Lean Cuisine night from time to time (to offset the Taco Bell—I felt guilty).
Two words changed all of that: GLUTEN FREE! Friday nights are still wing-it nights. But instead of Taco Bell it’s Pieology. On the gluten-free crust. Pineapple pizza. No Canadian bacon. Just pineapple. More than one time the kid at the register has tried to get Canadian bacon too, afraid that one of my parents forgot to mention it.
Back home I enjoy my only-pineapple pizza, the juice mixing with the pizza sauce, making a liquid mess. Oh, yeah, by this time my pizza is room temperature. Mmmm!
Another wing-it favorite is pancakes. Gluten-free pancakes. Bisquick makes a mix that tastes exactly like regular pancakes. Even the texture, with most gluten-free foods having a mushy texture (I guess it’s the gluten that binds everything together). If you blindfolded me I couldn’t tell the two pancakes apart.
And what goes best with pancakes? Okay, two things. Syrup, yes, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m talking about scrambled eggs! I’m particular about them. Eggs must be runny, or at least runnyish. Now comes the syrup. It’s pure maple syrup; who knew even Aunt Jemima had gluten? Therefore pure maple syrup is the other option. It’s almost liquid, with a maple flavor.
First, the syrup doesn’t just go on my pancakes. Eggs, too. I’m sorry if some people have urpy stomachs. I eat, Mom or Dad refilling the syrup pitcher at least once (the pancakes sure sop up syrup!).
Then, I’m pretty much done, except for a few pancake crumbs and some stray eggs. By now, they are literally bathing in syrup! That’s how they are best, ingredients in what I refer to as “sludge.” They are all scooped together in one bite. If I’m lucky, two. It’s my favorite part of pancakes!
It’s true that a lot of gluten-free things are less than appetizing, but if all I could be served was lukewarm pineapple pizza and soggy sludge, I’d be fine.
I remember life without the internet and it was so simple. Almost quaint. I had a few pen pals and it was so much fun to shop for stationary and pens. Told you quaint!
But I don’t what I would do without the internet. Just ask my parents: it goes out and I go into crisis mode. Almost in a panic. I have no idea why, at the most it’s out for fifteen minutes.
But for something we all depend on, there is a dark, often dangerous, especially for kids, atmosphere to the internet. Think about hackers, cyberbullies, predators, and the like. I will be nervous for my nieces and nephews, imagining all they could be exposed to.
I found a website that is nothing like a lot of websites that report the bad news of the world. Liftable is a Christian website with dozens of news stories that will put you in a good mood.
I subscribe to their newsletter on Facebook and when I see an especially inspirational story, of course I need to share it.
Like most everything, the internet has it’s good points and bad—you just definitely need to know where to look. And where not to.