Politically Incorrect Theatre, a Lovely Hiatus, and Welcome to the Gallery of Fashion Don’ts

I know what I want for Christmas! A revolver always makes a lovely gift-to-self, no?

I already have a revolver (and it was a gift to myself) though it’s a Taurus, not a Colt.  I believe in the 2nd Amendment, and packing (i.e. legal concealed-carry) has become a reluctant necessity for some of us.  There are some places and situations that are just plain unsafe for a woman to go alone and unarmed today.  I don’t want to be a victim.  Better to be armed and never have to use it than to need protection and fail to have it.

I don’t believe that packing is the right option for everyone.  I hesitated for a very long time before finally deciding to get gun safety training (and even then it was on my Dad’s insistence) and to get my permit.  Much to my surprise, I discovered that I actually enjoy shooting, and I can hit a target with a .357 a lot better than I thought I could.  The shotgun (I also have a Mossberg 20 gauge) is a bit more of a challenge.  Most people have an easier time with a shotgun vs. a pistol, but go figure, the pistol is more effective for me.  That being said, I do think that no one should even consider owning a firearm until they’ve had general gun safety training.  Even with safety training, it is essential to become intimately acquainted with how your particular firearm works.

No, I did not go on a cruise, gay or otherwise, but I had a nice few days’ away.

The meaning of words can change drastically in the course of a generation or two.  It also used to be possible to entertain kids with a simple puppet show.  Today even the very youngest kids need to be occupied with electronic stimuli.  My granddaughter is five months old and is currently learning to push buttons so they will make noises.  Then again, she also chews on her toes in between bites of cereal and fruit when she eats, so she’s pretty easily entertained- now.  I am curious to see what it will take to entertain her in a year or so.  All I can suggest to Steve-o is that he might want that portable DVD player for the car.   If such a thing had existed when he was in car seats it might have saved me a lot of irritation, if having to listen to Thomas the Tank Engine, Pokémon, and Power Rangers ad nauseam would have been better than his incessant screaming.  That just might be a toss up, though Thomas was a lot less offensive than the damned dinosaur. (I couldn’t handle Barney. Thankfully, Steve-o didn’t care for him either.)

I might just get him that portable DVD the more I think about it.  I’m sure he will love all those various princess, My Little Pony, and Hello Kitty movies- that I’ll make sure she gets.

If you’re watching this swill for the plot, you have Problems.  Just plead that it’s only on so the kid will shut the eff up. Boys, no one will get it that you’re having fantasies about the horses’ hineys.

I had a really fun time with my granddaughter Friday and Saturday.  It’s scary, but she’s already crawling and sitting up and she’s not even six months old yet.  It won’t be long before she is getting into everything and wreaking general havoc.  Yes, grandchildren are the ultimate payback.  Now, Steve-o, you might just start understanding why Mom was so flipping paranoid about so many things.

Of course medical fun is on my agenda a lot more often than I’d like it to be.  Yesterday I got to get another blood draw (had already had one Thursday in anticipation of my Dr.s’ appointment yesterday) because the lab forgot to do the A1C test which is probably the main reason for getting my blood tested every three months to begin with.  I think the Dr. and the nurse were more upset about it than I was.  I don’t freak over blood draws, but I know some people do.  The nurse kept on apologizing for having to take my blood again, but it’s really no big deal.  Hopefully I get a three month reprieve on blood draws (until I have to do it before my next appointment in November) but whoop-de-doo.  It really doesn’t bother me anymore. As long as my clothes stay on, medical procedures truly don’t phase me.

This is really all it covers.  For the waist down, you get a paper sheet.  Joy and rapture.  Yeah.

The only Dr. appointment I find unnerving anymore is the paper-nightie one, regardless of who does it. The first time I had it done, (I was 16 and I really wanted to get on the pill, you know… so I went to the county health clinic rather than my family Dr. which turned out to be a Bad Idea,) the guy was a medical student, and he was more than a little rough with things, and that memory has given me the willies about this procedure ever since.   My current gynecologist is excellent- I can do nothing but applaud his repair work that is allowing me to live free of pelvic pain, and even three years later I am so thankful I had the hysterectomy/major repairs.  Although I know I have to get all that checked once a year to make sure the repairs are holding up and to verify that nothing else in that vicinity is screwing up, these days I don’t like taking off my clothes for any purposes other than showering.  I have always found pelvic exams and mammograms to be rather unpleasant, but I’d probably be twisted if I enjoyed it. (Necessary, yes- and guys, you are not off the hook- get that prostate check you’ve been putting off!)

Sunday we took our obligatory trip to the State Fair.  I like to go to the fair, if only to marvel at all the bizarre specimens of humanity.  You don’t have to pay for the freak show at the fair.  The freak show is free- just look around and you’ll get treated to:

Bad Tats-

Isn’t that special?

Completely inadequate coverage:

This looks good- how?

WTF?  On many levels.

Horrible hair designs:

Oh. Dear. Lord.

And completely stupid tat designs such as: (though I’d already included a bad tat, I saw plenty of really bad tats at the fair!)

Even when I have it, I don’t really want to advertise it.

I admit I forgot my camera this year, which really sucks, but I don’t think I’d had the courage to take a pic of the 500 lb she-behemoth snarfing a footlong corn dog in one bite even had the camera been handy.  That image has seared itself into my retinas.  Woof.

Ohio is Not a Tropical Paradise, (So Put on Some Pants,) the Second Amendment, and Navigational Exploits

For the past five years or so, and most especially for the year or thereabouts following my hysterectomy, I have been somewhat plagued with hot flashes.  At times they have been so severe that I have found myself completely drenched in sweat and burning up for no apparent reason.   Since my Dr.s expressly forbid me to take any kind of hormone replacement, given my history, I have to deal with it.  I’ve been tempted at times to sit in the freezer, I often (even in winter) use a small table fan at night, and it has to be extremely cold for me to even entertain the idea of wearing a sweater or heavy shirt.   Over the past year or so my heat sensitivity has improved somewhat, but even now I am more likely to overheat than to freeze.  The only exception to this is my hands.  My hands still freeze very easily even if the rest of my body is burning up.  Go figure.

Even given the inconvenience of menopausal heat sensitivity, I can’t bring myself to wear shorts outside in the winter.  Every time I see young punks outside in shorts- even the Bermuda type- and/or flip-flops when it’s below freezing, I really have to wonder.  I know damned well the girls are too young for menopause and the boys don’t really have any excuse other than maybe the man-fur on their legs does something as far as insulation, but I doubt it.

Despite the wistful imaginings of the global warming crowd, Ohio is not a tropical paradise.  Maybe for three months out of the year we have near-tropical weather, as in stygian heat, 100% humidity and plenty of rain, but it’s not year-round.   The remainder of the year is still 100% humidity, and plenty of precipitation, but cold, and at times that precipitation is freezing rain or snow.

The lesson in this:  It’s February.  Put on some damned pants.  At least until the end of May, when it might actually be warmer than fifty degrees.  I blame Target for putting the bathing suits out in January.  Just because it’s currently on the store shelf does not mean that it’s the appropriate clothing item for the season.

Some clothing items are never appropriate, regardless of the season. 

Yesterday I was reminded of why I very seldom go on shopping excursions with Jerry.  I hate shopping anyway, and I loathe crowds.  I am surprised I volunteered myself into that one, but he always likes it better if I drive.  It’s always better for him if it’s my car and my gasoline, and me driving, for two reasons.  One, my car gets far better mileage than his truck, and two, I am less likely to get lost.   He refuses to drive my car (good for me in the grand scheme of things, as I really don’t like anyone driving my car) because I have a concealed carry permit.  If the cops would pull him over in my car, they would run the plate and assume that there are weapons in the vehicle.  It is also likely that anyone driving my car would be approached by the cops at gunpoint, which would really freak him out.   I know if I’m pulled over that I’m supposed to put my hands on the wheel and let the cop know whether or not I’m packing, but Jerry has been known to get lippy with cops, which is never a good idea, even if you’re right.  A good friend once told me that there are two good reasons why you won’t overpower, outsmart, or outrun cops: Smith & Wesson and Motorola.  One cop is always going to be armed, and one cop always has that nice little radio to call for backup.  It’s better to comply with their requests and figure out the details later.

I’ve never been a fan of gun control.  I’ve never been a fan of government absolving people from the consequences of their poor decisions either, but what do I know?  If the government seems to think that encouraging stupidity as well as shielding people from the consequences of their own stupidity, have suddenly become civil rights, then I guess it is a good idea (for the law-abiding, rational person) to be armed and to protect oneself even if it is necessary to go through some red tape and hoop jumping.  Thankfully the Framers of the Constitution were a lot smarter than the current crop of jackoffs holding office, and- at least for now- the Second Amendment still stands.  I could go on for days on this particular tangent, but I’m not going to.  Unlike a good number of politicians, I’ve read the Constitution.  I believe I have a pretty solid understanding of it. If you take your time and sift through some of the archaic language, it’s not terribly difficult to understand.  Government has responsibilities, but more importantly it is supposed to have boundaries. 

The weather was quite cold and windy yesterday, but it was sunny for a change,  so I had to deal with both Jerry’s waywardness and unduly crowded stores.  By the time we got home I was thoroughly worn out not so much from walking or driving, but by chasing Jerry about and weaving in and out of crowded aisles and displays.  Jerry is not terribly easy to keep track of, as he is prone to wander off and then I am not only manuevering my way through the crowds but I’m trying to find him as well.  It’s a sort of a twisted three dimensional version of “Where’s Waldo,” only it’s “Where’s Jerry,” and unlike Waldo, he keeps moving.

If I could I would get Jerry one of those kid leashes specifically for shopping excursions or times when I have to take him out in public and I know it will be difficult to retrieve him.  It’s a thought.  Or I could modify one of the Flexi leashes we have for the dogs.

A Heartless Woman’s .38, aka, the 2nd Amendment for the Clueless Cougar

 

If you understand the “heartless woman’s .38” reference you are either a.) at least as old as I am, b.) a pretty intense Journey fan, or c.) both.  It comes from the song “Dead or Alive” from the Escape album.  I think only Steve Perry could make a song about a contract killer sound sexy.

I’ve never been what anyone would call a gun enthusiast.  Dad and Grandpa did their share of hunting, and Grandpa was an expert marksman when he was in the Army, but I never really got into the whole firearms thing.  I don’t know much about guns and rifles, which I freely admit.  I was never really compelled to learn either.  Now I’ve been talked into taking a concealed-carry class (Dad’s idea, which Jerry chimed right along in on) so I figured if I’m going to do that I might as well do it right.

I actually bought a handgun, something I never thought I would ever have any possible reason for doing.

I had planned on buying a .38 special derringer, but ended up with a 5 shot .357 magnum revolver.  It’s a Taurus 605, not the most expensive small frame revolver one can buy, but not cheap either.  It has a built-in safety lock- and the trigger is relatively easy.   The upside of the .357 magnum is you can use the .38 special ammo (cheaper and easier to find) at least for practice.  Apparently you can use .38 special ammo with the .357 magnum but not the other way around.  I’ve learned many new and interesting things about firearms and self-defense, not just in the gun class but also about my own mentality and sense of detachment.

Shooting my new gun is an experience, and for a beginner, I don’t aim too bad.  It’s sort of like horseshoes and hand grenades- even using the .38s, close counts.  If I have to use it I can, and I don’t see me hesitating should the situation arise.  I do need much more practice on the firing range and with using the speed loader.  With the speed loader I get five more rounds.

I still have to go get my concealed-carry permit, and I need to get an appropriate holster before I can actually carry a loaded gun.

I’m glad to have bought a decent gun and to have taken the class.  I don’t want to shoot anyone but I also don’t want to be a victim.

I’ve been so busy that I don’t get to do much besides work which is a shame.

I don’t have a semi-automatic (at least not yet) but I agree with the above sentiment.