of a tennis player, hiker, writer
A bird in the bath. well, just before.
On court 1. Lookin' to own.
In Jax, enjoyin' some solid juniors tennis.
I love my new phone cam.
* Clears throat * “Um, Robin here, your friendly neighborhood MC(Mistress of Ceremonies). Welcome to my blog. In it you’ll find my rants, ramblings and random updates on everything ME...
…and since I’m the typo queen and master of misspelling, these will be present in most, if not all my posts.”
A few of my better entries - all quick reads:
|Yesterday was root canal day for me(oh joy). Now, today, its level seven T.O.S pain day. Seems unfair if you ask me; two days of uncomfortable pain. Plus, before the root canal, there was looming anxiety. The older I get, the more unsettling upcoming medical visits make me.
The dentist, who refused to retire – he’d been performing root canals for forty-four years, said I should feel no pain. As in zero. Somehow, this did nothing to settle my anxiety.
“But what if I feel pain, and I can’t tell you about it cuz my mouth is pried open with your torture devices.?” I smiled, hoping he had a sense of humor.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, patting my shoulder. “No one’s ever had any trouble letting me know.”
Of course he was right. When I did feel pain. I let him know by making the pain noise, muffled as it was…with that metal clamp on my tooth and what ever it was he used to keep my mouth pried open. He gave me a fourth shot of Novocain. I was good to go.
I just wasn’t good to go for the ninety some odd minutes it took to complete the procedure. Especially since there was this lugi – stuck in the back of my throat – that I involuntarily kept trying to hock up.
“Pike down, young lady.” He said, “I’m moving as fast as I can.”
Was I complaining? That’s funny; I don’t remember saying a word. Not one single solitary word. But, he called me young, thus smoothing out any annoyance i might have otherwise felt.
Overall, the guy was good. You don’t do something 44 years and not be good at it. (well, okay, I’m sure there are people out there…) my jaw on the left side feels tender and I’m not supposed to chew my Chinese chicken and broccoli on that side of my mouth. Or any food, for at least three days. I have to wait till Monday to contact my reg dentist to set up an appointment for a tooth cap. More joy.
Now, if I could just get rid of this level seven arm pain.
|After the tournament, a few of us went out for drinks and dinner. I can’t remember the last time I went to Buffalo’s, but the food wasn’t as good last night as in my memory. I ordered the Buffalo chicken sandwich. Yes, that comes with fries. (they were horrible – old tasting) The girls wanted to sit outside – don’t ask me why…it was ninety-seven degrees at 7:00PM, but who was I to argue. Maybe we’d catch a soft breeze. Maybe the skies would open up with some cool rain. Maybe I was just dreaming.
My mouth and eyes soooo wanted to order the (forgive me if I get this wrong) Buffalo Jack. A shot of Daniels on ice. The picture looked so tasty – droplets of condensation on the bottomed heavy glass – filled to the rim with dark amber whiskey with lots of ice.
My mind, however, had its head on its should and resisted. My liquor cabinet at home is well stocked – with patron, bush mills, pyrat rum, ambassador scotch, to name a few, JD out would surely be a disappointment.
I chose, instead, some martini. The ingredients looked to be similar to a cosmo(my absolute fav martini) , I could hit the Johnny walker black when I got home.
The drink arrived and I could smell it before I tasted it. sugary sweet – in my younger days, I’d have gone for this. It reminded me of Jolly Rancher candy, something I haven’t had in years.
The conversation and company much better, smoothing over the letdown of a so-so meal out. And a “I’ll never order that again," drink.
oh, i did catch up with my sister lisa...cars was great!
I’ve got errands today – maybe I’ll catch a little rest later, before having to go at it tomorrow. Another six day work week ahead of me! Oh joyous rapture.
|It’s been an eternity since my last entry. I’ve lost my muse. Has anyone seen her? I’m sure she’s running around in SGReds’ acting like she’s all that, ordering soy latte’s and chatting it up with hottie guys in dimly lit cafés sporting wireless Internet.
If you see her, tell her to get her little ass home. Mana needs her muse! Especially since I spent my lunch break today working on my rapid rally article.
I guess she’s tired of my work schedule. No one likes putting in six or seven days a week. (I’ll be glad when July gets here.)
Hey, while you’re out looking for my muse, maybe you can score me U.S. Open tickets.
|Erik Stark dared -I'm double dog daring- or challenged everyone to put this in their blog so here it is!
1. YOUR ROCKSTAR NAME: (first pet and current street name)
2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your mom's side, your favorite candy)
3. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your last name)
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favourite animal, favourite color)
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Marie Portland it could be Candelaria Portland eeeewww
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (first 3 letters of your last name, last 3 letters of mother's maiden name, first 3 letters of your pet's name)
7. JEDI NAME: (middle name spelled backwards, your mother’s maiden name or your best friend's last name spelled backwards)
8. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, the automoblie you drive
um, i'm a non-driver....but i have a super hero name...its SGBLUE!!! or SuperRobin
|It really sucks being so busy I don’t have time to write. Then, when I should have had time – this past Sunday, I was so totally focused on a tech problem - I didn’t even have time to think about writing. See, I can’t log into wdc from my notebook pc. Yes. Can you imagine? Not being able to log in and post your blog entry? Or what about that awardicon winning poem you wrote whose deadline was Sunday May 21, 2006 midnight eastern time? Okay so noooo I didn’t write one. But what if I had? I’d be up that creek screaming, "Where's my paddle?!"
Needless to say I’m bummed. I’ve tried everything. First, it took like a bah-zillion times for me to come out of my denial and accept the fact that a problem did exist. Bah-zillion and one. Yep. Login troubles are here to stay. Soooooo, I re-booted, like any non-IT person would. Still I was being blocked. There were a few whispers of profanity on my part, quickly followed by soft soothing apologies. Sheesh these tech appliances nowadays. Why I remember…back in the day, when, oh, never mind
Trying to narrow the problem down, I attempted to log in from another computer - my desktop – the one in the office. Yes! I was able to see the My Account Page. New mail 18! At this point, I became distracted. How on earth was I just gonna walk away from 18 pieces of mail? And of course, I had to post in my favorite In and Out…"Fortunately/Unfortunately" Also, I went to the tech forum "Technical Support Forum"
Back to my tech problems. The wdc IT guys (and gals) suggested I check out my cookies. I hadn’t changed my cookie setting, nor could I understand how it might have become changed, but whatever, I’m desperate now, and I’ll do what it takes. I loosened my privacy setting to allow all first party and third party cookies.
Still I was unable to log in from the notebook. UGH!!!
What about restoring my compie back to a date when I know I could access? Yeah, let’s try that. Nope. Didn’t work. Complete waste of time!
Bringing my laptop back into my home office, I opened up the Tools Drop-down menu(located on my Internet Explorer Page) and click on Internet Options on both…Hit the Advanced Tab to slowly scroll down and compare the two settings. As far as I could tell, they were the same. Nothing different. Why the hell can’t I log on from the laptop?!
Still in Internet Options, I move both screens over to the Privacy Tab and click on sites. On the notebook, I type in www.writing.com and hit Allow. Click on OK, until I get my Internet Explorer screen back. Aaaah, surely this must fix my problems…..right?
Hell freakin' No!
Now, I’m ready to scream, even the Dobermans outside can hear me ranting.
I’ve given up trying. I guess, when my tournament is over, I’ll call HP and ask them. Plus, if all else fails, I’m thinking about hitting that F10 button – purposely crashing my precious compie…see if that works!
|Saturday, while at work, my cell phone rings. It's my identical twin sister, Renee.
"Guess what this sound is?" she asks, No "hello." No "How are you?" Just, "Guess what this sound is?"
I push the phone closer to my ear, hoping to get a better listen. No luck. I still don't know. It's loud, but undistinguishable.
"It's the sound of..." she pauses for theatrics. "Of your supergirl underwear in," - more pausing - "my washing machine."
I giggle. Then squeal, "You found them?"
"Beau did." Beau, her husband -- my brother-in-law --has found my panties.
I'm still laughing, "Where the hell were they?"
FYI: My SuperGirl underwear, which, by the way is my very favorite underwear in the whole wide world, became missing on the second day of my trip out to West Virginia during Christmas Break 2005. I would also like to note: The favorite status isn't just favorite - as to only include the current supply. No. These particular pair of panties (along w/ another almost identical pair) are my ALL-TIME favorite. As in EVER. They're the boycut panties - red, with the Super emblam on the front. ONLY THE most comfortable cloth you'll ever slid over your butt.
I felt the loss immediately. First, invading my body as confusion. I know they were here last night! I thought as I rummaged through my pile of dirty laundry. Then, building up into frustration as I re-checked all possible areas, coming up empty-handed.
The entire household knew of the loss. The announcement was loud. No shame or embarrassment. "Has anyone seen my S/G underwear?" I yelled, to no on in particular. Then, in quiet tones, to each individual member of the house. Even the dog, Dew, whom I secretly suspected may have chewed them to bits. I asked him, during a belly rub, "Dew," I whispered in his soft doggie ear, "Have you seen my SuperGirl underwear? I promise I'll still scratch your belly, even if you bit holes in them. C'mon, fess up; bark once if you did."
Several weeks later, after I returned home, I brought the SG q up again. You know, just in case Renee came across them while cleaning up. Nope. Again, nothing. Oh well.
Now, they are stuffed in a box, wrapped in brown paper, on their way to my house!
I'm considering taking a digi pic of them upon their arrival, just so you guys could see what all the fuss was about.
Okay, these aren't the red ones, they are the blue ones..but here goes
|Our week in Gatlinburg was amazing. We went day hiking in a different trail everyday. Although, our trekking didn’t turn up interesting events as partyof5dj’s does when he goes hiking. We did get some beautiful pics. (for more information about the weird things you might see while hiking, check out the following entry – only after you’ve read MY entry though. This is after all, MY blog. : "Invalid Entry"
The Great Smokey Mountains National Park has a bah-zillion trail. There’s no way, a person could possibly walk all of them. I seriously would love to move there. Spend my days walking, and my nights writing about what I saw.
I’m just not sure I could get used to the bears. The black ones that love to roam the smokies. We had three of them come right up to our cabin. Bryan grilled steak – cleaned up his mess, but the wind was blowing up the mountain. So the bears came down to investigate.
Here is where we stayed,
I was sitting in the chair which is pulled out – I got an awesome mountain view during mealtime.
Where was I, oh yeah, you should have heard him, “OH my God!” he shrieked. I was chewing up the last bite of my meat and looked over in his direction. He had gotten up to go over into the living room area.
“What?” I asked – my mouth still full of food. Sorry Mom, I know I’m not supposed to talk with my mouth full.
“There’s a (f’en) bear.” He’s usually not in the habit of using the F word. (that’s my job }
“Where’s the camera?!” I asked.
I must have shot the whole roll. Some through the double paned glass, like this one:
Then, when the bears moved, I did too. From our deck I took the following pic:
I have lots more pics, so, if you’re nosey, or a little voyeur like me, you can check out "The Places I've Been" for more nature pics.
|“Robin”, the custodian peeps his head into my office door. I’m busy. Working. On three things at once. Matches start tomorrow. I’ll be loaded up with players all day. I flash him a frustrated look, hoping to convey my busy-ness.
“We only have three rolls of jumbo toilet paper left.”
What? I freeze.
“I’m just letting ya know.”
I have to be here at seven in the morning tomorrow. Play starts at eight! Teams from all over the state will be here! What do you mean we only have three rolls of jumbo left? He’s been out for over a week. I guess I should have inventoried yesterday.
“Great.” Is all I say, even though i feel anything but. Then, in a rush, “Have a look around; let me know what else we need.” I say a quick prayer, we use a local company for cleaning supplies – one with next day delivery! If I’m lucky, they can squeeze in another Friday delivery
Keeping my fingers crossed and using my very best phone voice (PV) I dial the number.
“Michael.” I say, only I drag the word out. There is much more pep in my words than I feel, “Can I place an order?” I ask. More pep. I even smile – you know, to play the part better. I know he can’t see me, but maybe he can hear the smile.
“Sure.” He says, mirroring my peppiness. “What can I get for ya?”
I go through my list, including LOTS of toilet paper – several cases. Then, I use my little girl whiney voice…”Can you bring it to me tomorrow?”
He does this long dramatic inhale/exhale thing. Making the “H” sound. Like he’s really annoyed at my request.
A silent pause follows - lasting longer than I’m sure it is.
“I don’t know, Robin," he finally says. "Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s Friday,” he reminds me. Maybe he thinks my calendar is wrong. That i've forgotten what day of the week tomorrow is.
I know he’s playing with me so I play along too. “I’ve got this HUGE tournament here tomorrow. I really NEEEEEED toilet paper.” I go into the routine of begging.
He’s laughing now. “Yes,” he breaks in, “I guess...for you...we can add another deliver stop.”
“Yay!" I squeal.
Life is good. Who would have thought I’d get this excited over TP?
|i'm gonna be out of pocket for a week - vacation! yay me.
i've been super busy with the tennis center getting painted, writing my article, planning my free tennis fun day, Rapid Rally and an upcoming junior tournament i'm directing. sooooo, it's been hard to blog.
omg. keith richaards....fell out of a tree. wow, i hope i feel like clibing trees when i'm sixty - two. especially since now, at um, forty-two, i have no desire!
|Every time i try to break for lunch the phone rings. Or the Coke man drops by with his delivery - with his hand out asking for money. Or the air condition guy swings by to fix the a/c from the work order i faxed WEEKS ago. (the joys of middle management)
I’m sleepy. Plus, I still don’t feel good. I tried playing tennis last night – boy did I suck – but I could barely hang. Now, my chest feels tight. I sure hope this sinus allergy thing hasn’t dropped into my lungs. I’m taking it easy today, to see how I feel. I’ll hit the doctor’s off ice on Thursday – if I don’t feel any better by then.
I’m rambling now, but I was asked to do another article for the RSI mag! (yay me). I’ve worked out a rough draft outline. I see two possible directions. I need to pick one. Or, even better – find a way to incorporate both! If I do well, it may be more than just a back page piece. (possible double yay) no pressure though.
Laney just called; they’ve postponed the state tournament due to weather. Not sure when but it won’t take place tomorrow. Practice here this afternoon.
With tomorrow unexpectedly free up, I guess I should go to the doctor – eh?
|The girls lost in the quarters. Laney was playing well – except her serve was erratic. Double faulting, followed by an ace followed by more double faulting. Throughout the entire tournament, her service return – she played the AD court was dead on the money. She almost always won the point. I’m proud of her. She’s never made it to the quarters in individual state before.
Next week’s matches look to be tough. We play a school w/ strong players. Every girl needs to be on her game if we want to make it past the first round. It’s single elimination and the possibility exists we go, play forty minutes and get kicked off the courts –made to leave, dragging our racquets and tennis bags behind us. But, our girls haven’t made it to team state in decades! Our presence this year is cause for celebration. It’s been years since the girls have sent a team to the team state event.
The girls are practicing everyday. The boy’s team has agreed to help them out. Today, they played matches. Tomorrow, they are set up more of the same. Everyone is hyped and ready to kick butt!
|I have cramps. Bad cramps. Stop looking at me and stay the heck away from me cramps. I’m four days in…WTF? I’m not supposed to be having cramps now. It’s frustrating, annoying, and I can’t get past the unfairness of it. Midol isn’t working. How could this be happening?
With no relief in sight, I’ve lost my patience. So, dealing with normal everyday problems feels more difficult than usual.
Like this hole I just discovered in my shorts. How did it get there? I don’t remember ripping them. The last time I wore them, it wasn’t there. I love these shorts. My blue Nike shorts. I’ve played countless tennis matches in these shorts. And now there’s a hole. When I get home, I’ll have to throw them away. More unfairness.
I’m at work, so the very existence of the hole is embarrassing. (It’s on the outside left thigh, just above the normal slit of the shorts. It almost look like it’s supposed to be there but not quite.) It’s unnoticeable while I’m sitting. But walking,…different story. The senior men are here playing tennis. I wonder if they’ve noticed. Robin’s exposed left thigh. Somehow, I don’t think they’ll be complaining to management. Ya know?
|Laney is back at school today. I’m physically tired, mentally drained, and emotionally – I’m catching my breath. What a week. And it’s only Wednesday.
The weather cooperated nicely for Monday’s Individual Region Tournament. I was able to get some to cover part of my shift – thus enabling me to head over to the other tennis center bright and early – Eight thirty AM. Laney had a bye, so we walked around and watched her other teammates play theirs.
I had to leave in the middle of her match with the rival school. Laney and her partner waited until the second set to let their court presence be known. Why do they do this? I think they secretly hope their parents will grow more gray hairs. I stayed until the last possible second. Watching the girls play much better, and hoping as we drove out of the parking lot, they would force a third set. Donna, Laney’s partner’s mom, phoned on my cell to say they did. Yay for the girls.
Bryan rushed back over there and called me every few games…letting me know when they tied it up three-three and then, once again to say they had won! Yessss! The girls would now play in the finals.
Once off from work, I made it back over to the tournament to see all four players draggin’ their feet. No one was playing the tennis I knew they were capable of. Laney and her partner lost in straight sets.
But, she came in second! In the Region Tournament! What a way to go!!!!
By the time they dragged themselves off the court, we headed over to court 13 where the last match of the tournament was being played A teammate and the rival school were duking it out for third and fourth place. Laney’s school vs the Rival School. We took over the bleaches next to the fence and cheered our boy on. He was amazing. A third setter. He was down three – four and managed to win the match seven – five.
The team wanted to celebrate over dinner. Why not? They all worked hard during the season and now, during the tournament.
Two hours later, we are driving Laney to a med center; she is having a severe asthma attack. She used her rescue inhaler, but it isn’t working. My heart thumps loudly, driven by anxiety. I’ve never see her this bad off. She is lethargic. Her eyes glassed over, I can barely hear her words as she expresses her inability to move her body, to speak a sentence, take a single breath.
After determining her oxygen level is 98 percent, they send us out to the waiting room. Four others have emergencies graver than ours. Laney’s new to asthma. I’m guessing, like me, she has trouble with the exhale. She is leaning on me as we walk back out. I see one empty chair in the corner next to the unisex restroom. The place is packed. Is it a full moon? The clock on the wall reads nine PM.
We wait. And wait. The room gathers more sick/injured people. And still we wait. Laney tries talking but struggles so finally she texts me.
I miss Blake. I want Blake. I wanna go home.
I reach over to hug her. “I know.” I say. I want you to breath. But I don’t say this.
They close down the front desk, lights out, computer off. There must be four patients left in the waiting room. Finally, they call us to the back. All of us. The WR empties through the doors and heads to their assigned room. Aahh, there is a bed in here. At least she can lay down.
Three breathing treatments. Most patients get one, sometimes two. Laney gets three. She will also get a steroid shot in her hip. She’s a trooper. Especially since she is suffering from a side effect of the breathing treatment. Muscle twitches are common, both the nurse and doctor tell us when they peek their heads through the door. Not to worry. Usually, the patient just experiences twitching in their hands. Three treatments and Laney’s entire body is twitching. Her arms, her legs, her head, face and lips. Bless her heart. It really pained my heart to watch.
Before being released, the doctor spent lots of time with us. Asking questions and relaying information about Laney’s condition. He’s worked with athletes with asthma. He assures us she will be ready to compete for her state tournaments.
I hope so. She’s worked so hard all season long, then never really quitting in the region tournament.
We go to Tifton on the 18th. I’ll keep you guys posted.
|I just realized I haven’t watched any of the Masters. Okay, so I’m not really a golf fan. I can’t say I even know how to play…rules, and when to use which club and crap like that. But, the Masters – it’s a prestigious event held in my state. I wonder if Tiger likes staying in Augusta. My father-in-law, and his daughter go almost every year. In my defense, it rained yesterday. I had to work – bank deposits and run errands….so I didn’t have my ass parked in front of CBS watching/listening. Then, today, as previously stated, I had to go into work. (Lots of people came out to play today) It wasn’t until I dumped an unfolded basket of laundry in front of the TV, I realized my eyes haven’t glanced at those beautiful blooming flowers the Deep South produces. The most beautiful golf course in the world. I like listening to the birds.
okay, so this isn't Augusta...it's my front yard...but the flowers are still pretty.