Uh......

PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail-in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard.


All of them are interesting, but a lot of them make me sad.

My AC Broke, Part 7

I just looked at the thermostat in the hall, and it reads 81F. Damn, I'm tired of not having AC.

Just to keep you updated; the first two central air contractors gave me prices of $3,200 and $3500, but never sent the estimates (guess they don't want the jobs). The third guy was $5,200 (he left the estimate before he left that evening). I got a post card in the mail yesterday from another contractor and left a message on his answering machine a little while ago to call me. I hope this guy is closer to the first two.

I saw the weather forecast and it looks like Tuesday it will get up to 92F. Damn, that's hot. I wonder what the temperature in the hall will be that day?

Yep, it's vertigo

I went to the doctor this morning and he confirmed I have vertigo. I had a 10:45 appointment and got there a few minutes early as I don't like to be anywhere late. I get called into the exam room about 10 minutes later at about 10:50. Not bad I think, only waited 10 minutes. But the inevitable wait for the doctor to show started.

As the wait progressed, I thought, "Good thing I brought the newspaper". It wasn't enough reading material for the wait though, because I read the whole thing through and started it over a second time before he finally showed up at a little after 11:30.

Well, we talked a little, he asked how Barbara was doing, I complained about my lack of sleep the past week or so because of her agitation and the hallucinations, small talk over and we got down to why I was there.

"I can't sleep on my back. Everytime I roll over and my head gets vertical, BAM!!!, I start spinning out of control. The spinning lasts for like 30 seconds."

That may not seem like a long time to you guys, but it is. I hate vertigo.

He says I probably have an inner ear infection which is causing the vertigo. He says he wants to take my blood pressure, take some blood, do an EKG of my heart and check the pressure in my ears.

I wanted to say, "Look doc, like I said on the phone, I have fucking vertigo! I've had it before and I know what it is. Just give the fucking prescription and let me out of here. I don't need all this extra money making, for you, tests to prove what we both already know, is wrong with me, I have vertigo."

He says the nurse will be in a minute (fat fucking chance of that) to take the tests.

Now I wait another 15 minutes. She pushes in the first cart, does some tests. Then pushes in the second cart and does some more tests. "What did the ear pressure test show", I asked. "I don't know how to read that, the doctor will be in in a minute."

LMFAO, a minute? Doctors watches shouldn't even have minute hands. They don't know what a minute is.

Now I start looking looking around the exam room.

"Free Viagra. Buy 5 prescriptions and get the sixth free". Not now, but someday.

"Do you have low testosterone?" No pamphlet but a cute little electronic game type thing with yes or no answers.

Then there's the chart with the wife complaining about her husbands snoring. "Do you have sleep apnea?" it asks.

What else?

Hey, another little electronic push the yes or no answer things about getting an erection. I push the on button, but the batteries are dead on this one.

The doc comes in about this time and tells me my heart is fine, he's sending the blood out to have it tested and my ear pressure is a little low probably because I have fluid in my ears, which is screwing up my balance.

Now for what we've all been waiting for, the diagnosis.

"You have vertigo."

I wanted to say, "No fucking shit. Isn't that I told you when I walked in? Look doc, like I said on the phone, and again when I got here, I know I have fucking vertigo! I've had it before and I know what it is. You should have just given me the fucking prescription and let me out of here. I didn't need to spend all this time here waiting and all this extra money making, for you, tests to know what we both already knew, is wrong with me."

"I want to see you in a week to see if it's better. Check with the appointment desk in the back. See you in a week."

Sure I will. My vertigo will be gone in a few days and I will be better next week so I'm canceling the appointment early next week, and I'm not wasting another 1/2 day for you to agree with me that I'm fine.

Unless, I don't really have vertigo and I really am dieing. In that case I will be back next week complaining about why you didn't diagnose my fatal disease last week.

Oh, I got out of there at a little after 12:00. Not bad, it usually takes longer.

Damn, I have vertigo again.

Did you ever roll over in bed and have the room spin VIOLENTLY for about 30 seconds? No? You are very, very lucky. It happened to me again last night, third time in two years. I hate this shit!!!! Anybody know what causes it? I'm not dieing am I?

It dawned on me why I liked the picture in my last post so much

Eighth grade English and lucky enough to be in the hot teacher's class. She sat on her desk facing the class, looked down and noticed she had a run in her stocking just like the one in the picture. I remember her picking at the run and telling us she was upset because the stocking ran down, and she still had the whole day to get through with a run in them. She said she would try to stop it from running anymore by putting nail polish on the run.

(Now this is where it gets good, for an eighth grader anyway.)

She leans back over her desk to get her pocket book out of the drawer. Now I could see her thigh almost to her panties as she leaned back. Oh how I wanted to catch a glimpse of panties. The only ones I seen up to that point were my little sister's or my mom's hanging on a clothes line and there is nothing erotic about that. She took the nail polish out of her pocket book and dabbed a little on the run.

Which reminds me of another story about that school.

It may or may not have been the same class, but I remember unthinkingly scratching my balls one day and one of the very few girls in school with real boobs, not tissue stuffed bra boobs, but real ones, asked me if she could scratch them for me. I was so embarrassed and of course I said no.

What a dick I was.

She was also the same girl who intercepted a note to some guy and tucked it in her bra. She made him go in and get it. She stood there in front of us all and let the guy feel her up, INSIDE HER BRA! Can you believe it?

Damn, I'm glad I have a good long term memory.

Then there was the time in ninth grade, or was it tenth, when I actually got to touch a girls boobs for the first time.

Never mind, your probably not interested in hearing this stuff.

I'm almost ashamed to admit it, ...

...naw, I'm not ashamed to admit it, or I wouldn't post this.

I was checking out one of my favorite blogs just now, Lusty Lady, and saw a link to Flickrbooty. I must say, it is worth a visit for all you lovers of.........of.........., how do I put this delicately ......., female nakedness.

Here's my favorite picture from the site.
















I wonder why, with all the naked pictures of women, this was my favorite photo?

I got the ricotta...

...but the chicken was going to spoil, so I fried up the cutlets in italian bread crumbs instead. I got the idea from Amber, sort of. She recommended Recipes.com. So this afternoon I went there and that made me feel like cooking, so I did. Thanks Amber.