As if I don’t spend enough time on the computer, now Azahar and Compu-Diva have me playing email Scrabble, and are presently kicking my butt. I think I’m outmatched here, I haven’t played for a while.
I have seen my future, and it has a mobility dog in it. Not for a while, but perhaps soon. Not only could I use the help getting out of chairs and moving around my apartment that’s too small for my walker, but the US government is trying to change the service dog laws to where what Friday does for me won’t qualify. Phooey. But I have a plan, and I know my doc will go along with it, certifying that I need a mobility dog. Sometimes my knee gets stuck and I can’t move. If I have something to balance against, I can get it unstuck. However, if I’m not near something, I’m in trouble. Happened to me the other day whent The Boyo was over. I had to call him to help me. He is concerned about what might happen if I am alone. A big dog could come over and help me balance with their mobility harness. OK, so it costs more to keep a dog for years than get one of those lift chairs, but dogs are more fun.
This post just about ruined the song “Walking on Sunshine” for me. Thanks, Raincoaster. And I said some snarky things about the girl in the video. However, I didn’t understand the context. Not having cable TV, or for that matter, watching much TV at all, especially in the summer, I had no idea there was such a show as Intervention. Or that there really were people who were so hungry for attention that they would bare their lives like that. Then yesterday, there she was again on Slog. This time the videos linked to the whole show. And I watched it. I still think it’s a pathetic concept and exploitative, but Allison, I’m sorry I snarked on you. And I’m glad you went to rehab. I hope it sticks. (Of course, I really don’t have much room to talk, since I blog my whole pathetic life. I just don’t have the audience A&E does.)
Meanwhile over at Shapely Prose, there is a post on how hurtful people can be to fat women. And there seems to be a catharsis going on, as there are now nearly 500 comments recounting the thousands of small cuts, especially from men. Men weren’t my problem, it was my mother. But samo, samo. It still hurts. So next time you hear somebody telling their girlfriend, daughter, wife, random woman on the street that her ass is so fat she has to make two trips to haul it,…well, just give it some thought. It’s not necessary, and it’s not helpful. Lets make “fat” and “obese” the new “n-word.”
Should I confess I’m enjoying being on Twitter? Not because I want to know that someones hand was in your vagina during the earthquake in California, but because there are some pretty funny people on there. I follow about 15 of them. Yes, Twitter is all about 140 character one-liners. Of course, no one follows me except Raincoaster, Azahar and Compu-Diva, and mostly we use it to schedule Scrabble games.
Silverstar, spending hours on the Internet so you don’t have to.