Let’s see, what’s been going on around here? I’ll give you a quick update.
I took a weekend road trip to San Antonio to visit one of my best friends Frances and her family (one of my many bonus families). It’s always great to see them! Her little brother Jacob graduated from high school (congrats Broham!). Tons of family and friends showed up to celebrate and have some of Papa Driffill’s awesome brisket. We were sitting around the table with a few of Fran’s family members, including her Grandma and Tia, when they mentioned they read the obituaries in the paper every day. We talked about how it’s kind of depressing, but a lot of people browse this section of the newspaper. Grandma then said “Hey, that’s how we keep up with our friends!” and Jacob just started laughing … “The obituaries are like Facebook for y’all!” So true.
I stopped at Buc-ee’s on the way home. That was interesting … as always. For those of you who don’t know, Buc-ee’s is known for their glorious and pristine bathrooms. Now, I’ve seen my more than fair share of dark and sketchy, creepy, axe-murderish bathrooms at numerous gas stations in Podunk towns because I couldn’t hold it ‘til the next major city. When I was in elementary school, we drove with another family to Colorado and pulled over at sundown for some fresh peaches at a fruit stand, I asked the nice lady if I could use her restroom. She pointed me to an outhouse off in the distance between some trees … I’ve reluctantly used plenty of Porta-Potties, but this was a dark and all wooden outhouse … now that’s Podunk. I hesitated a little, but since I didn’t think I could hold it any longer, I took off running, “I think I can, I think I can.” Well, I think even God hates outhouses, because the second I took off, it got very dark, started pouring down rain (which didn’t help my situation), and when I opened the door and took one look inside the dark abyss, the thunder let loose, and I flew like a bat out of hell back to the car. (Sidenote- someone at camp many years ago told me things live in Porta-Potties. And even though I had never witnessed this tall tale, I was certain that using an OUTHOUSE in the middle of freaking nowhere that night would result in my demise. To this day, I have this irrational fear that some snake or nasty creature is going to crawl out of the hole and bite me.) Luckily, there was a Dairy Queen a few miles down the road. Dad peeled out and I’m pretty sure I was doing what appeared to be some sort of tribal potty-dance in the back seat to avoid the embarrassing. I ran inside the DQ and past an old lady headed to the bathroom. (Sorry!)
So, all of that to tell you if you’re like me with a tiny bladder, and can hardly ever make it on a road trip without at least one pit stop, Buc-ee’s bathrooms are heaven sent. No, really. Choirs of angels sing when you walk in. Just be sure you know which side of the parking lot to park on so that you are as close as possible to the restrooms or else you will find yourself running the 100 meter dash through a throng of slow people, clothing, food, and random knick-knacks to get to the Great Hall of Thrones on the complete opposite side of the not-so-convenient-convenient-store. Luckily, once you get in, their doors have the little green “vacant” or red “occupied” door signs that change when the door is locked, so you don’t have to play the Bend-Over-and-Look-for-Feet Game which becomes increasingly difficult if you just potty-danced your way through the last leg of the race. Don’t let their funny billboards mislead you; if you see one that says “You can hold it. Buc-ee’s 70 miles” and you don’t know if you can, go with your gut instinct and pull in to the next available stop. 70 miles is deceiving when you have to go.
Aside from the great bathrooms (Beaver Nuggets (lol), Buc-ee’s ice, and fudge … so I’ve been told)., Buc-ee’s is also a fantastic place for people watching. For instance, I followed a guy in the parking lot on a motorcycle, holding his beard down so it wouldn’t fly up his nose. I also saw all kinds of interestingly dressed people. But not only this, but when I got back to my car to hit the road again, I saw a police car drive up behind me. Whatever it was, I didn’t do it. I swear! He got out and started walking around in the grass ahead of me, looking down into the ditch down below. He started talking into his radio, and an older lady walked up to him. I’m assuming she was the one who called for the police. I was getting a little uneasy, so I decided to back out and go. As I put the car in reverse, a homeless man appeared from the ditch. For any of you hard core SNL fans, there’s a “deleted sketch” on The Best of Will Ferrell DVD where his character is the crazy Old Prospector, Gus Chiggins. This homeless man looked exactly like him, minus the pick axe and lantern. As I made it out to the street, I looked back to see Old Prospector getting cuffed and put into the back of a squad car. What a pit stop! So, next time you pull into a gas station to go potty, watch out for the ditch bums.
 |
| Old Prospector Gus Chiggins |
In other news, Elle had sinus surgery. I had a few sympathetical pre-ops jitters, but I'm happy to report the surgery went relatively well. She asked me if I would still be her friend with all of the swelling, bruising, and bandages/packing, and if I could compliment on how well the colors in her outfits match said bruising. Of course I’ll still be your friend, but I can’t say I didn’t just gag a little thinking about all the packing (and removal thereof).
I need to practice some of my compliments.
- That shade of blue really complements your eyes.
- The black in this bruise really slims the swelling down.
- I tinted the mirrors yellow to offset that purple.
- Thanks for not being scary on Vicodin after surgery, unlike someone else we know after she broke her foot. (Love you, Fran.)
Speaking of surgery, even though I know good and well that a lobotomy is a neurological procedure where they remove connections in the frontal lobe of your brain (yikes!) and is only spelled with one ‘t’, I can’t help but giggle because it’s got the word “bottom” in it. I think we should double the ‘t’ so it can be the name of a surgery on your bottom – like maybe the J. Lobottomy, a procedure to enhance the lacking of the badonkadonk, no?. I know, I’m 23 years old, but I still laugh at immature things … life’s too short. I couldn’t get through a news story about Representative Weiner (lol) without snickering every time they said his name.
Ok, so the real lobotomy procedure (according to the 1970 Psychiatric Dictionary) was used to treat different kinds of psychological disorders, namely OCD and different versions of schizophrenia. Here are a few procedural nuggets that caught my attention:
- Good results are obtained in about 40 percent of cases, fair results in some 35 percent and poor results in 25 percent. The mortality rate probably does not exceed 3 percent.
- These odds would not have convinced me back in the day ... so you're saying I don't even have a 50/50 shot at ending up with good results? I noticed "great results" was not included on this scale.
- Greatest improvement is seen in patients whose premorbid personalities were 'normal', cyclothymic (bipolar), or obsessive compulsive; in patients with superior intelligence and good education; in psychoses with sudden onset and a clinical picture of affective symptoms of depression or anxiety, and with behaviouristic changes such as refusal of food, overactivity, and delusional ideas of a paranoid nature.
- Ok, wait. Why are 'normal' people partaking in these surgeries? Furthermore, why are you removing cranial matter in the patients with superior intelligence and good education? You know you can't transplant intelligence, right? You either have it, or you don't ... and I pray for your soul if you don't.
- The removal of these aberrant and fixed pathological brain circuits, therefore, might lead to some improvement in mental symptoms.
- ...might? ...some? Again, if you're going to be snipping my circuits, I'd like a little more confidence in the outcome please.
- Because nearly all psychosurgical procedures have undesirable side effects, they are ordinarily resorted to only after all other methods have failed. The less disorganized the personality of the patient, the more obvious are post-operative side effects. (Side effects include convulsive seizures, blunting of the personality, apathy, irresponsibility, distractibility, childishness, facetiousness, lack of tact or discipline, and post-operative incontinence.)
- These side effects are pretty intense, therefore it seems pretty OBVIOUS that if you have a less disorganized personality (read: normal) going into the procedure, then these outlandish post-op side effects will be more obvious.
- Basically, if Dr. Freeman went in looking like this, but came out of surgery looking like this, the side effects will be more noticeable than if he went into surgery already looking like one flew over the cuckoo's nest. Duh!
Anyway … Elle, I'm glad you're out of surgery, wish you a speedy and relatively painless recovery, and most of all, I hope you don't get any more sinus infections!
I still owe you guys a ditty on my Vegas trip – it’s just a matter of me sitting down and uploading pictures to my computer to accompany some stories. Las Vegas was awesome, until it was time to come home. After a long night out with my cousin and her friend (small world - they planned a trip to Sin City the same week we were there), I tripped and ate it. For any of you who play (or have played sports), I’m sure your coaches told you if you fall, don’t catch yourself because you’ll mess up your wrists on the impact. Well, you guessed it. I tried (keyword) to catch myself and wound up with a sprained wrist and missing half the skin on the back of my hand. I’ll revisit this incident with a dedicated Vegas post.
Most importantly, it rained yesterday for several hours. I did my part and got my car washed on Sunday. You’re welcome, Texas. This is most important because short of a few droplets here and there, it hasn’t really rained in the majority of Texas for 7 months. That’s a pretty severe drought.
 |
| That just looks hot, huh? |
Here in Bayou City, we’ve only had 1.5 inches of rain from the last three months which is apparently only 15% of what we normally get around this time. So, here’s what I was thinking. We need to organize a flash mob (since everyone seems to be doing those now) and do one giant rain dance. That should at least get us the 10 inches we need to be on par for the season. Check this out – apparently even parts of the Sahara desert are getting more rain than we are! We could also make a Facebook event to have everyone wash their cars on the same day. Just a thought.
Gotta give credit, where credit is due:
http://28.media.tumblr.com/X6pnpwdzPi3d3f1nppEZmgzio1_400.gif
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lobotomy
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/05/10/texas-drought-2011-record_n_859902.html
http://www.myfoxhouston.com/generic/weather/texas_drought_monitor_weather_subindex
http://www.cerebromente.org.br/n02/historia/freeman.gif
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmvDm8b1WvljFtLisouY21dCUFG1QSFHFRmvI9SVmv4nVvogt95WDGAupxbJYcanRI1mGIlUvqsSJtXZrhqbiU6FU_6ocXj6fffL6nNFjfCeP1cEmUmYLfCDUYi1cQAk3RyT3MLbj4nM/s1600/lobotomy.jpg
No comments:
Post a Comment