Blogging about Exacerbating is Excruciating

This is going to be a tough one. It is 9:45 and I am just now starting my ‘e’ post for the a to z challenge. My faithful supporter, Joe, gave me the topic of “exacerbating”. What-er bating?? EXACERbating. :) It is not easy tackling a verb as a topic but I’ll give it my best shot!

Being a rather cheery sort, I know it will come as a bit of a surprise that sometimes I get irritated. :) I try hard to keep this in check and with some things, on some days, I am very successful at laughing things off. But there are a few little things that consistently annoy me.

1. When people I do not know call me “hon”. Sometimes they even do it in written form. This is double the annoyance because inevitably they spell it “hun”. At least if you are going to label me as such spell it correctly.

2. The term “you’s” as in “When are you’s coming for a visit?”. The only thing that would make it more irritating would be if it were in written form and it was spelled “use”.

3. Warm beer. No explanation required.

4. The endless amount of passwords and PINS we are supposed to remember. Listen. I am not getting any younger. There is only so much space in my head for remembering silly little series’ of numbers - not to mention it’s a boring use of a limited resource.

5. People who talk constantly about their ailments. Monday they have a cold, by Wednesday it’s a throat infection and by Friday it’s full-blown pneumonia. When you wear your illness’ like badges of honour it is irritating. Being ill is not a status symbol. Go find yourself another way of getting attention. Off you go.

6. Being really hungry only to arrive at a restaurant that does not have a table available. This happened to me tonight. Very serendipitous really. At least it set the mood for tonight’s blog post.

7. Phony people who speak with an affected tone of voice. They use fake laughter to punctuate every human interaction. I see through your lack of sincerity from the minute you open your mouth. Take off the mask and go find yourself some integrity.

Okay I need to stop RIGHT NOW. This is exacerbating! Joe did you do this on purpose? Good god, I feel like throwing the radio in!

To counteract the negativity and for Joe, in honour of his hometown in Florida (and to regain my sunny disposition :) ) I will end on a light note. This is a little story from Gordon Livingston, an author and doctor who writes about coping with all of life’s ups and downs. In the face of life’s “downs”, Dr. Livingston believes a sense of humour is one of life’s most powerful antidotes.

When I was undergoing Army Ranger training years ago, I remember the extreme stress, physical exhaustion, and fear that we could never show but that nearly overwhelmed us at times. One cold night our patrol was chest deep in a north Florida swamp, making slow progress while visions of cottonmouths and alligators danced in our heads. My Ranger buddy turned to me and whispered, “Are you sure this is the quickest way to Orlando?”

Now, THAT, is a positive attitude!

The Hard Sell

Well I did it. A couple of weeks ago I got back on the horse. It really wasn’t nearly as intimidating as I thought it would be and I am so happy to be back at it. But there’s a down side. After interaction with a girl at the front desk I somehow signed up for 3 sessions with a personal trainer. She was, shall we say, very adept at the “hard sell”. I do believe, judging from her appearance, that her main role - perhaps her only role at the gym is to sell. So the last couple of weeks I have enjoyed some weight lifting classes along with my 3 sessions with David, the trainer. Tonight I had my last one hour session with big D and let me tell you it was a good workout. But, there’s a down side. Or should I say, there’s a side to it that both puzzles and annoys me all at the same time.

We worked out for 45 minutes and then he led me into the “conference room” where he explained all the wonderful ways in which he was going to build my strength, help me lose 10 pounds, make me more energetic and make me look like Jennifer Aniston. Okay well, maybe he didn’t include that last part. But after going on and on and on he finally got to the price. “So, let’s see,” said David, “that’s 84 sessions over 11 months and it’s $54 per hour so that would be (click click click on the calculator) $4536. Plus tax that is $5125.68. Today you leave me with a 10% deposit, that would leave $4613. You can pay that in monthly installments for $419.37 per month. Oh and I’m not going to lie to you, the financing charge is 10% so the monthly amount would be a little higher than that.” Well let me just say I went totally stiffy goat.

When I picked myself up off the floor I explained to David that, should I win the lottery at any time in the near future, I’d be back to sign up. Seems to me, it’s hard to do anything these days without someone trying to squeeze every last penny out of you. In the meantime, I think I’ll stick to my own plan.

Humourous Stories in the Face of Tragedy

Wow. That’s a heavy title for a blog post isn’t it? Half of me is laughing about it, the other half is wondering if people will just conclude I’m insane. I love – LOVE – laughing and maybe I shouldn’t admit this but some of my fondest memories are of laughter at times of tragedy. One of my very favourite authors – Dr. Gordon Livingston – says this about humour. “The truth is you don’t have a sense of humour; it has you. Given the eventual tragedy of the individual human experience, all humour is gallows humour, laughter in the face of defeat.” In this spirit, let me share a bit about the 6 months I spent with my Mom between her diagnosis of terminal cancer and her death. In those 6 months the two of us actually managed some really hearty laughing sessions. One occasion sticks out clearly in my mind. The two of us attended a funeral visitation for the mother of a mutual friend. The funeral home had done quite a bang-up job on presenting the body for viewing. As we were driving away from the funeral home our conversation went like this.

Mom: Did you ever meet her before? I mean, when she was alive?

Me: Yes, I met her once briefly. Did you ever meet her?

Mom: Yes, I was at a dinner party once and she was one of the guests. Did you find her to be attractive when you met her?

Me: Well, not particularly. I mean, she was pleasant-looking but not necessarily attractive, why?

Mom: Because she sure made one hell of a good-looking corpse.

Oh my god,  the laughter that ensued! Even as I am writing it and remembering it, again I am laughing my ASS off. And to think she was wearing a wig, bald from her chemo treatments fighting the same disease that had taken the woman. Laughing about a funeral visitation when she was so close to her own end. Some might call that macabre – I call it survival. :)