Category: Jenny thinks she’s funny

You know, Emily likes to joke about me being older than she is, and the fact is, well…I’ll always be older. (Even though she has the sense of humor of an octogenarian.) But lately, I’ve been feeling my age…and then some.

Let me tell ya, 2013 has not been my year so far. Despite my efforts to be healthi-ER (which are actually going well, I’m being a pretty good girl), I’ve had some setbacks. My gall bladder that they couldn’t find anything wrong with last spring has been attacking me again the last couple of weeks. It’s been fairly painful and very stressful. Then, two weeks ago my lower back started hurting for no apparent reason. In the past when I’ve had backaches they’ve usually resolved themselves after a few days of popping Aleve and wearing Icy Hot patches, but not this time. The pain and persistence began causing me some significant anxiety, and I couldn’t get in to see my doctor for over a week, so yesterday I finally broke down and called a chiropractor.

I’m kind of scared of chiropractors, even though most people I know who go to them loooove them. But the thought of having my “back cracked” or ANYTHING cracked for that matter, scared me to death.

But I went, because I. Was. Desperate.

And actually, I think it helped! I’m going back Saturday, despite the fact that my body made horrible noises I doubt it was meant to make and I may have screamed several times a little.

But I have to say the most painful part of the chiropractic experience (which really didn’t hurt, so don’t freak out) was the the doctor himself was OBVIOUSLY younger than me. Either that, or he drinks from the fountain o’ youth.

Sigh. How am I so old that there are medical professionals that are much younger than I am?

My Tour de Old was topped off last night by a 9pm victory lap in my glider rocker with a heating pad on my back. I did said victory lap in my PJs and fuzzy heart bathrobe (I heart my fuzzy heart bathrobe. I’d like to leave it on all winter, eat about 12 pounds of gluten-free onion rings to get nice and plump, and then hibernate for 2 months like those geniuses, BEARS do. But I digress.).

Tour de Old Official Commemorative Photo. With shot of heating pad cord.

 

So that’s my story thus far. 2013 is the Year of the Geezer. Can’t wait to see what Geriatric Adventures I’m in for at my Friday doctor’s appointment!

Am I the only person left in America who still has a home phone? And is under the age of 70? Granted, mine is cordless and not even remotely similiar to this old rotary one, but it still seems archaic in a lot of ways. Almost none of my friends have  home phones anymore, except for Cortney, an old soul like me, who just GOT one after not having one for forever.

I love my home phone. Well, not when it rings. I hate it when it rings. Because really it’s only telemarketers (The “Do not call” list? Should be called the “does not work” list!) or campaigners that call it and it’s annoying.  BUT I love the security it provides.  Like…if I didn’t have a home phone, how would I ever call my cell phone in order to find it when I’ve misplaced it? My faithful home phone is there when I need it. It’s always there, on the charger, with its multiple handsets, ready to be called into active duty when my cell phone battery dies.  Or, let’s say Joshua needs to call 9-1-1 because I’ve fallen down the basement steps and my cell phone is stuck under my dead body?  Good thing we have a HOME PHONE, one that he doesn’t have to pry from under his mother’s girth, unlock or find the keypad on to operate!

HOME! PHONE! FTW!

Last week, Joshua wanted to call his BFF and talk about Pokemon cards. Do you think he’s gonna be doing that with my iPhone? UM, no. Here’s the home phone, buddy! You and Pikachu have a blast!

I love my home phone. I don’t love paying for it but I sure do enjoy it’s security blanket-esque qualities. What say you? Are you an “E.T. Home Phone” fan like me, or did you kick yours to the curb long ago? Why or why not?

In honor of what is for many, back-to-school week, I want to tell you the story of a very fine educator and his legacy.  That educator is my brother, Andy.  (Yes,  my hairy brother.)  He’s been teaching high school science for  an eternity about 15 years or so.

In fifteen years, he’s taught a lot of students.  Recently,  I had, on separate occasions, the chance to meet two of his former students, both a few years out of high school.  When they heard I was his sister, they both went on and on about how nice he was, and what a great teacher he was, and how much they loved his class…

…and then they both said the exact. same. thing.

“But what I remember the most about him is that he showed us how he could put four quarters up his nose.”

Let me just type that again for you.

“But what I remember the most about him is that he showed us how he could PUT FOUR QUARTERS UP HIS NOSE.”

What??  Well, I guess that’s what I would remember most, too, because OHMAHGAH EEEWWW!

One of his former students told me this when we were sitting in the lobby of the DENTIST’S OFFICE. What am I supposed to say to that???

I’m proud of you, brother.  You are leaving a lasting legacy.  A fine education that is worth no less than one whole dollar.

Do you put the quarters in some sort of sanitizing solution when you’re done with them? Because I really do not want to think of those two-bits back in circulation.

People. Use quarters with caution!  You do not know where they have been.

**UPDATED**

My sister-in-law just informed me that it’s four quarters IN EACH NOSTRIL.

Two-Dollar Legacy.

I can’t even continue writing.

WE SHARE THE SAME DNA!!! I fear for my children!