I thought the sagging economy was someone else’s burden. My job situation was secure. I even wrote a blog about it in January. That was until the big bad wolf huffed and puffed and blew my secure job right out the door.
For the first time in forty years, I am unemployed. I am numb. However that is another adventure to explore at a later date. I believe you are here to read the conclusion of my next to the latest adventure. I am sorry, but this will not be the final blog about my adventure. Yippee, my current adventure will continue for the next three weeks. That’s right this yucky surgery adventure will walk hand and hand with my creepier out of work adventure. So if you are a current follower, or an on the fence follower, hold on to your hats, It is going to be a bumpy ride.
I am not sure if I have ever explained the logistics of my current condition. Most of you know I had prostate cancer, and for those that are new and had no idea, I suggest you go back to my blog for December 17th and familiarize yourself with my last adventure. Go ahead we will wait for you.
Lalalalala. I hope you don’t mind if I hum while we wait. If there are any one of you wishing to join in please feel free to do so.
Oh good they’re back. Was it all that you had hoped for? I know I was personally riveted to the adventure, but then I had a great advantage point to observe from.
What follows is totally embarrassing. I tried to train one of daughter Raballard’s pet rats to type, that way I could be in the other room when my condition was discussed. However the pet rats are not talking to me seems as if I made them out to be villains in my book INTO THE BLACK REALM. Needless to say they want little to do with me and left it up to me to discuss my condition. So here I go. Wait, before I continue, could I make a simple request? I would ask each one of you to read the following sentences with one eye closed. If you could read with both eyes closed that would be better. I figure maybe that will soften the blow to my ego.
There is a certain side effect that follows most victims of prostate cancer. More times than not the condition corrects itself. Most of you have seen the little boy fountain, you know the fountain where the water comes from a precarious location. I bet you didn’t know that you can actually turn of the flow from the precarious place. It’s as easy as turning off the valve. The fountain is off; it will not be turned on again unless you turn it on. Ok here’s the embarrassing part. In my case my little boy fountain returned itself on. I was hopeless. Do I need to say more? Good lets change to another part of the adventure.
I approached my doctor and asked him if there was any way to rectify my fountain. He assured me there was a simple procedure. He had performed many times with astounding results. I told him to sign me up. I was ready, willing and able. My buddy the doctor squashed my exuberant excitement “Don’t you think I should explain the procedure before you get all worked up?”
I asked him if the procedure worked he assured me again that it worked most of the time. That was enough for me. I was ready for the procedure at any cost.
Apparently my buddy the doctor does not do well with highly over-excited cancer patients. He made it clear that he was going to explain the procedure anyways. How do you like that, I thought he was working for me.
My buddy the doctor went to a desk drawer and pulled out a device. He told me the name of this device, but as it looked like one of the aliens from War of the Worlds I quickly forgot its name. I asked him what his toy alien had to do with my fountain. OK here’s the thing, this part is even more embarrassing then a broken water valve on my fountain.
Unwrapping his War of the World magical device, in order to show me its total creepiness my buddy explained the weird objects purpose. The device had what he called a tiny balloon attached to some kind of buttony thing.
I will leave to your imagination what happens after that. I am so humiliated.
There you have the procedure in a “nutshell”, I have ran out of time again. I will have to continue this adventure another time. Give me a few days to change my name, relocate, and forget about my humiliation.
I would like to welcome any new followers; I bet you’re wishing they had room for more followers on a less disgusting blog.
Please come back.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
March 21, 2009
Well I made it; my adventure is all down hill from here. It’s been a rough ten days. If you are the least bit squeamish about pain and suffering, this is the point where you should leave. However, if my ex-wife happens to be reading this, sit down you’re going to enjoy this.
What gives with scheduling adventures so dang early in the morning? Sure, I am going to sleep through the initial beginning of the adventure, but how about my dearest Mrs. Raballard and daughter Raballard? I got a peek inside the waiting room, it is kinda dinky, my dear support team could not sleep in such dire conditions. Mrs. Raballard said she would be unable to sleep anyway, something about being too worried. Daughter Raballard brought along stacks and stacks of school books, I will admit she took getting up early better this time than she did on my first adventure.
The first part of my adventure began exactly as my previous adventure began. I checked in with the hospitals concierge and showed him my yellow reservation ticket. I was given the ticket at my last meet and greet at the hospital. The R.N. told me “Don’t lose that yellow paper, as they will need it to prior to admitting you.” I begin to worry about the wisdom of the hospital staff. Here I am worried about my upcoming adventure and they hand me an important sacred document. To be fair to the hospital staff I was handed a similar sacred document prior to my last adventure, but Mrs. Raballard was there to shoulder the responsibility. I was alone at the meet and greet. Oh, dear I have gone off on a tangent, I kept the sacred yellow paper in a safe place, and it only took twenty minutes of frantic searching to locate the safe place.
The yellow ticket now safely in the hands of the hospital concierge, I was asked to repeat my name and birthday before they could give me my “your table is ready” buzzer. We didn’t have long to wait, my buzzer woke up Mrs. Raballard five minutes after we set down. My first tour guide was prepared to escort me to my first stop. What gives with the hospital staff’s short term memory receptors? My tour guide, I.V. administrator, gurney pusher, anesthesiologist, shot giver all asked me to repeat my name and birth date. All the information was readily available on my neat bracelet provided as an incentive. Each one of the staff I met along the way read my bracelet and asked me to repeat the information. It seems to me the hospital should be less concerned about me remembering who I am, the time to hire literate staff should be high on their to do list.
Let’s recap my morning. I arrived at the hospital with my yellow ticket. I have also been given a nifty new bracelet, complete with my name and birth date. Grilled and drilled to see if I remember the afore mentioned information. I was dressed in the official southern exposure adventure uniform. Poked and prodded by the Marquis de Sade I.V. nurse, either my veins refused to cooperate or she took extreme pleasure in turning me into a voodoo doll. I was then wheeled into the staging area. I spoke briefly to my Dr.Hekle /Mr. Hyde surgeon, and finally given a welcome to La-La Land martini. I was now ready to face my maker.
Where does the time go? I thought I might be able to get through my adventure with one blog. I have however run out of time. I promise to continue at a later date. Please come back, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. The pain and suffering hasn’t even started, you will want to be sure to be here for that. I do miss you if you are not here.
On a purely selfish note, I need two more follower to reach fourteen followers. Four more followers would give me sixteen. Both are great numbers. In the words of Captain Picard of Star Trek fame “Make it so number one”
PS For the older followers among you I should give a more dated plea. In the words of Yul Brynner of Ten Commandments fame “So let it be said, so let it be written”
What gives with scheduling adventures so dang early in the morning? Sure, I am going to sleep through the initial beginning of the adventure, but how about my dearest Mrs. Raballard and daughter Raballard? I got a peek inside the waiting room, it is kinda dinky, my dear support team could not sleep in such dire conditions. Mrs. Raballard said she would be unable to sleep anyway, something about being too worried. Daughter Raballard brought along stacks and stacks of school books, I will admit she took getting up early better this time than she did on my first adventure.
The first part of my adventure began exactly as my previous adventure began. I checked in with the hospitals concierge and showed him my yellow reservation ticket. I was given the ticket at my last meet and greet at the hospital. The R.N. told me “Don’t lose that yellow paper, as they will need it to prior to admitting you.” I begin to worry about the wisdom of the hospital staff. Here I am worried about my upcoming adventure and they hand me an important sacred document. To be fair to the hospital staff I was handed a similar sacred document prior to my last adventure, but Mrs. Raballard was there to shoulder the responsibility. I was alone at the meet and greet. Oh, dear I have gone off on a tangent, I kept the sacred yellow paper in a safe place, and it only took twenty minutes of frantic searching to locate the safe place.
The yellow ticket now safely in the hands of the hospital concierge, I was asked to repeat my name and birthday before they could give me my “your table is ready” buzzer. We didn’t have long to wait, my buzzer woke up Mrs. Raballard five minutes after we set down. My first tour guide was prepared to escort me to my first stop. What gives with the hospital staff’s short term memory receptors? My tour guide, I.V. administrator, gurney pusher, anesthesiologist, shot giver all asked me to repeat my name and birth date. All the information was readily available on my neat bracelet provided as an incentive. Each one of the staff I met along the way read my bracelet and asked me to repeat the information. It seems to me the hospital should be less concerned about me remembering who I am, the time to hire literate staff should be high on their to do list.
Let’s recap my morning. I arrived at the hospital with my yellow ticket. I have also been given a nifty new bracelet, complete with my name and birth date. Grilled and drilled to see if I remember the afore mentioned information. I was dressed in the official southern exposure adventure uniform. Poked and prodded by the Marquis de Sade I.V. nurse, either my veins refused to cooperate or she took extreme pleasure in turning me into a voodoo doll. I was then wheeled into the staging area. I spoke briefly to my Dr.Hekle /Mr. Hyde surgeon, and finally given a welcome to La-La Land martini. I was now ready to face my maker.
Where does the time go? I thought I might be able to get through my adventure with one blog. I have however run out of time. I promise to continue at a later date. Please come back, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. The pain and suffering hasn’t even started, you will want to be sure to be here for that. I do miss you if you are not here.
On a purely selfish note, I need two more follower to reach fourteen followers. Four more followers would give me sixteen. Both are great numbers. In the words of Captain Picard of Star Trek fame “Make it so number one”
PS For the older followers among you I should give a more dated plea. In the words of Yul Brynner of Ten Commandments fame “So let it be said, so let it be written”
Monday, March 9, 2009
March 9, 2009
I start my newest adventure tomorrow, the moon, and stars are aligned. The pure cosmic thingy-ma-bob radiates with the glow of a 40 watt bulb. I am ready, ok as ready as I can force myself to be in; adventures such as this are not my cup of tea.
For those following my adventure please stay tuned. For the 500 million of you that have not been following my blog, you must be here by mistake. I will wait for you to gather your belongings and find the inspirational blog you had intended to read. I have checked the roll and those that had been court ordered to read my blog have chosen hard times instead.
I was worried I might have to leave on my adventure by myself, Mrs. Raballard has been away on assignment and my Sherpa guide had flown the coupe. My guide left to visit a friend in the small European country of Toodrnknstan, and we all know there is no extradition from there to here. Luck would have it; I don’t need a guide at all. The adventure is an outpatient procedure. That’s right I get to suffer and mend in the comfort of my own easy chair. I hope some good meds come with the suffering.
My meet and greet went out without a hitch, well almost. They asked me the dumbest question. “Will you allow us to give you blood if it is a life and death situation?” OK up front on your application for the adventure they ask your religious preference. I left mine blank, I figure which ever religious entity nearest me when the time arrives would be beneficial, but I know I didn’t add any religion that won’t allow you to save your own life. My answer was “duh”
I also had to have my pace maker checked, yah I know I had it checked in October, that is apparently too long a period. When the person checking my pace maker said I had four years left, I was on my cell phone checking for an online instant will site. I calmed down after she told me she meant the batteries in my pace maker had about four years left.
That’s about all I have to say. I am anxious for the adventure to begin. Mrs. Raballard is flying in as I type this.
I am cool, calm and collected, what could go wrong? Hey wait a minute, for those familiar with my luck on these adventures you are well aware, everything goes wrong.
Please return to see if I make it. We will miss me if I am gone too long.
For those following my adventure please stay tuned. For the 500 million of you that have not been following my blog, you must be here by mistake. I will wait for you to gather your belongings and find the inspirational blog you had intended to read. I have checked the roll and those that had been court ordered to read my blog have chosen hard times instead.
I was worried I might have to leave on my adventure by myself, Mrs. Raballard has been away on assignment and my Sherpa guide had flown the coupe. My guide left to visit a friend in the small European country of Toodrnknstan, and we all know there is no extradition from there to here. Luck would have it; I don’t need a guide at all. The adventure is an outpatient procedure. That’s right I get to suffer and mend in the comfort of my own easy chair. I hope some good meds come with the suffering.
My meet and greet went out without a hitch, well almost. They asked me the dumbest question. “Will you allow us to give you blood if it is a life and death situation?” OK up front on your application for the adventure they ask your religious preference. I left mine blank, I figure which ever religious entity nearest me when the time arrives would be beneficial, but I know I didn’t add any religion that won’t allow you to save your own life. My answer was “duh”
I also had to have my pace maker checked, yah I know I had it checked in October, that is apparently too long a period. When the person checking my pace maker said I had four years left, I was on my cell phone checking for an online instant will site. I calmed down after she told me she meant the batteries in my pace maker had about four years left.
That’s about all I have to say. I am anxious for the adventure to begin. Mrs. Raballard is flying in as I type this.
I am cool, calm and collected, what could go wrong? Hey wait a minute, for those familiar with my luck on these adventures you are well aware, everything goes wrong.
Please return to see if I make it. We will miss me if I am gone too long.
Friday, March 6, 2009
March 6, 2009
The Following are ghost stories my mother told me, she swore they are true. I have always believed them, and I will let you be the judge. Comment on whether you believe the stories or not.
My mother was born in Charleston, West Virginia but moved to Indianapolis as a teenager. When my mother’s family moved to Indiana she left her favorite Uncle behind. She adored this uncle, as he adored her.
She was alone in her house one cold winter day, she was too sick to go to school and her parents were at work while her younger brother and sister were at school. A knock came to the front door; she got up and answered the knock. There was nobody there. She looked at the clock on the wall it was just a little after 8 in the morning. It was way too early for people to play pranks on her. Thinking nothing of the empty door way she went back to bed. She had barely pulled the blankets over her when she was disturbed by a loud knock on the front door. Again she answered the door. Again there was nobody there. This time the loud knock on the front door was followed by a loud knock on the back door. She scurried to answer the back door, just as another loud knock came from the front door.
Pranksters, why can’t they let me alone? The knocking at the doors was followed by knocking on the windows. A knock came to each window one at a time. My mother was terrified by this time; she was alone, wishing for relief from the knocking.
At about 8:30 the knocking ceased, all was quiet. Until the front door handle began to turn. She had no place to hide. The door flew open, revealing her mother and father. Her mother had been crying. “Iris (my mother’s name) please sit down, we have some terrible news. At 8 o’clock this morning your Uncle was killed in an automobile accident, we just found out.”
It was then my mother knew who had been knocking at her door.
Story two:
I don’t know if this concerns an Aunt or a neighborhood character, but the name was Mary. Mary was into the occult and weird by any account. She was always mentioned in neighborhood gossip. Mary died in her sleep. That should be the end of our story, right? I wish it were. One day my mother was playing on her front porch with a group of neighbor children. The subject turned to Mary and how weird she was. You know how kids talk. Well, my mother never met someone she didn’t like, she told her friends that Mary was really a nice person and they should quit making fun of her. I don’t know how it happened or why, but the children told my mother she too was weird.
That was more than my mother could take, “OK I’ll prove she was a nice person, you all like dogs, right?” Each child said they liked dogs, “OK If Mary was a nice person, she will appear to us as a large red dog”, mom was safe as there were no large red dogs in the neighborhood. Minutes after the request for Mary to appear as a large red dog, a large Irish setter came and sat next to my mother. The children of course ran screaming to their homes. My mother thanked the dog for showing up, and told her she could leave now. Well the dog stayed, it wouldn’t leave. “Mary, it’s OK, I know you were a nice person, you may go now” Mary the dog wagged her tail, licked my mother on the hand and left, never to be seen in the neighborhood again.
OK there you have it, ghost stories told by my mother.
My mother was born in Charleston, West Virginia but moved to Indianapolis as a teenager. When my mother’s family moved to Indiana she left her favorite Uncle behind. She adored this uncle, as he adored her.
She was alone in her house one cold winter day, she was too sick to go to school and her parents were at work while her younger brother and sister were at school. A knock came to the front door; she got up and answered the knock. There was nobody there. She looked at the clock on the wall it was just a little after 8 in the morning. It was way too early for people to play pranks on her. Thinking nothing of the empty door way she went back to bed. She had barely pulled the blankets over her when she was disturbed by a loud knock on the front door. Again she answered the door. Again there was nobody there. This time the loud knock on the front door was followed by a loud knock on the back door. She scurried to answer the back door, just as another loud knock came from the front door.
Pranksters, why can’t they let me alone? The knocking at the doors was followed by knocking on the windows. A knock came to each window one at a time. My mother was terrified by this time; she was alone, wishing for relief from the knocking.
At about 8:30 the knocking ceased, all was quiet. Until the front door handle began to turn. She had no place to hide. The door flew open, revealing her mother and father. Her mother had been crying. “Iris (my mother’s name) please sit down, we have some terrible news. At 8 o’clock this morning your Uncle was killed in an automobile accident, we just found out.”
It was then my mother knew who had been knocking at her door.
Story two:
I don’t know if this concerns an Aunt or a neighborhood character, but the name was Mary. Mary was into the occult and weird by any account. She was always mentioned in neighborhood gossip. Mary died in her sleep. That should be the end of our story, right? I wish it were. One day my mother was playing on her front porch with a group of neighbor children. The subject turned to Mary and how weird she was. You know how kids talk. Well, my mother never met someone she didn’t like, she told her friends that Mary was really a nice person and they should quit making fun of her. I don’t know how it happened or why, but the children told my mother she too was weird.
That was more than my mother could take, “OK I’ll prove she was a nice person, you all like dogs, right?” Each child said they liked dogs, “OK If Mary was a nice person, she will appear to us as a large red dog”, mom was safe as there were no large red dogs in the neighborhood. Minutes after the request for Mary to appear as a large red dog, a large Irish setter came and sat next to my mother. The children of course ran screaming to their homes. My mother thanked the dog for showing up, and told her she could leave now. Well the dog stayed, it wouldn’t leave. “Mary, it’s OK, I know you were a nice person, you may go now” Mary the dog wagged her tail, licked my mother on the hand and left, never to be seen in the neighborhood again.
OK there you have it, ghost stories told by my mother.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
March 4, 2009
I have been asked to tell the tales behind the haunted houses I have lived in. I am sure there are those who doubt there are such things as haunted houses. The tales are true, I have lived in haunted houses, however, there is not much to the tales.
My first haunted house is also my first house. The house my parents took me to after my birth. Yup they took me straight from the hospital to a haunted house. At the time I was unaware the house was haunted, I had yet to discover my feet let alone eerie ghosts.
By the time I was four I had been designated as a basement sleeper. I was now old enough to sleep in the downstairs bedroom with my older brother; this is where the ordeal takes place.
My brother had been terrified by the ghosts since our return to the house. My father was stationed in California during the Korean Conflict, a ghost moved into our house sometime between the start of the conflict and decided he need not move just because we returned to claim our house back. Why my brother failed to mention his spooky roommate is a question I can not answer.
This is where I come into the haunted house part of the story. Soon after being banished to the basement I started noticing a grey object standing in our doorway. Terrified I pulled the blanket over my head. My brother tried his best to comfort me, “Don’t worry little Raballard, that is only the grey man, I don’t think he can hurt us”
The grey object had the shape of a man. It appeared it could not enter our room even though I could see him trying. OK there are going to be those among you that will claim the grey man is due to overactive imaginations, I might agree with you, had I not been there.
I am not the same person my brother is, I am not going to live through terror without sharing my experience. I told my father about the grey man, after my brother admitted he saw it too, my father decided to spend the night in the basement.
To make a long story short, he spent one night in the basement; the grey man showed up, my father ran screaming up the stairs. We moved soon after.
Many years later I ran into the victim that spent his formative years sleeping in the haunted basement. After he found out I was the original occupant he asked me “Hey what gives with the grey man?”
That was a true story; the next story is just as true.
We moved directly from our grey man house into a house that was almost 100 years old, even back then houses that old were old. Our neighbors were a dry cleaner on the one side, and a couple that were about as old as our house on the other side. I tell you who our neighbors were because they will figure into the story. Behind us we had a huge backyard and a large field.
The house was a three story Victorian style house with a small basement. The basement walls were painted red, at least that is what I was told, there is no way I was going down into the basement. Fortunately the basement was unfinished so nobody was allowed to sleep down there.
The spooky activities started soon after we moved in. During the night the whole family could here a baby crying, as I said before, there is no baby around us. The baby cried soon after we were all in our bed and would continue for about 5 minutes. When you are 7 years old, 5 minutes are an eternity. My father worked up the courage to investigate the crying, he could find nothing.
After a couple of weeks of nightly crying my father decided to ask our ancient neighbors. The answer was disturbing. Around the turn of the century the occupant of the house went out of his mind.
The story goes an unnamed occupant lost his wife during child birth. The child was blamed for his loss. Unable to forgive his daughter, the man took his infant into the basement and bashed her head against the wall. He buried the child in the back yard and proceeded to paint the basement red. We moved soon after.
If you would like on my next blog I could tell a couple of ghost stories my mother told me. Both are also true. I think the ghoulish among you would get a kick out of them. Leave a comment if you would like to hear them.
My first haunted house is also my first house. The house my parents took me to after my birth. Yup they took me straight from the hospital to a haunted house. At the time I was unaware the house was haunted, I had yet to discover my feet let alone eerie ghosts.
By the time I was four I had been designated as a basement sleeper. I was now old enough to sleep in the downstairs bedroom with my older brother; this is where the ordeal takes place.
My brother had been terrified by the ghosts since our return to the house. My father was stationed in California during the Korean Conflict, a ghost moved into our house sometime between the start of the conflict and decided he need not move just because we returned to claim our house back. Why my brother failed to mention his spooky roommate is a question I can not answer.
This is where I come into the haunted house part of the story. Soon after being banished to the basement I started noticing a grey object standing in our doorway. Terrified I pulled the blanket over my head. My brother tried his best to comfort me, “Don’t worry little Raballard, that is only the grey man, I don’t think he can hurt us”
The grey object had the shape of a man. It appeared it could not enter our room even though I could see him trying. OK there are going to be those among you that will claim the grey man is due to overactive imaginations, I might agree with you, had I not been there.
I am not the same person my brother is, I am not going to live through terror without sharing my experience. I told my father about the grey man, after my brother admitted he saw it too, my father decided to spend the night in the basement.
To make a long story short, he spent one night in the basement; the grey man showed up, my father ran screaming up the stairs. We moved soon after.
Many years later I ran into the victim that spent his formative years sleeping in the haunted basement. After he found out I was the original occupant he asked me “Hey what gives with the grey man?”
That was a true story; the next story is just as true.
We moved directly from our grey man house into a house that was almost 100 years old, even back then houses that old were old. Our neighbors were a dry cleaner on the one side, and a couple that were about as old as our house on the other side. I tell you who our neighbors were because they will figure into the story. Behind us we had a huge backyard and a large field.
The house was a three story Victorian style house with a small basement. The basement walls were painted red, at least that is what I was told, there is no way I was going down into the basement. Fortunately the basement was unfinished so nobody was allowed to sleep down there.
The spooky activities started soon after we moved in. During the night the whole family could here a baby crying, as I said before, there is no baby around us. The baby cried soon after we were all in our bed and would continue for about 5 minutes. When you are 7 years old, 5 minutes are an eternity. My father worked up the courage to investigate the crying, he could find nothing.
After a couple of weeks of nightly crying my father decided to ask our ancient neighbors. The answer was disturbing. Around the turn of the century the occupant of the house went out of his mind.
The story goes an unnamed occupant lost his wife during child birth. The child was blamed for his loss. Unable to forgive his daughter, the man took his infant into the basement and bashed her head against the wall. He buried the child in the back yard and proceeded to paint the basement red. We moved soon after.
If you would like on my next blog I could tell a couple of ghost stories my mother told me. Both are also true. I think the ghoulish among you would get a kick out of them. Leave a comment if you would like to hear them.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
March 3, 2009
The newest fad on Facebook is coming up with 25 random facts about you. I also believe they have to be truthful, too bad, I could invent some whoppers. The following list is truthful, embarrassing, and totally boring.
I am not sure if the public is ready for random facts about me.
Here we go?
1-Aqua phobic.
2-Had my very first kiss at the ripe old age of 24
3-Have a very quick wit, which can get me into trouble.
4-Have lived through 5 major earthquakes, including the 1989 San Francisco, dozens of blizzards, 4 tornadoes, 2 ice storms, 1 fire that destroyed 10,000 homes in San Diego, our home was spared, but we were evacuated.
5- Have limited memory of my childhood
6- Have moved 42 times in my life.
7-Hate the saying “We need to talk” up until recently it was never followed by anything positive
8-I am truly a nice person, but I have to convince myself of this on a regular basis
9-I find humor in most things, including my own cancer. The down side is sometimes the ON switch is stuck in the ON position
10-If I pay for dinner with my debit card and leave the tip on the card the ending balance always need to end in a 0.00 (example $40.00 etc,) I am a great tipper.
11-I have never hit another person, nor has another person hit me.
12-I was invited to Marie Osmond’s first marriage.
13-Lived in two haunted houses.
14-Love movies that make me cry.
15-Love my wife with all my heart, I tell her that often, but I really don’t know how to show it.
16-Met my wife in a “Southern California” chat room on AOL. She wanted to cancel our first date, but decided not to. Too bad for her huh.
17-Moved from Modesto, California to St. Louis Missouri to be with a girl I met on AOL. It lasted a little over one month.
18- Never smoked
19-Quit drinking on May 31, 1980. I was heading in the wrong direction at the time. It was either quit drinking or practice saying “My name is Ramon and I’m a …”
20-Posses a photographic memory that is in dire need of repair.
21-Short (5’-4) to be exact. This is a good thing; if I were any taller, all of my pants would be too short.
22-Shy, very shy, uber shy. Which is why I say I grew up invisible?
23- Taught Sunday School for ten years
24- Was married to a woman with 10 diagnosed multiple personalities. Over time, all 10 of them hated me.
25-Wear a tie to work every day. I have 30 ties with a matching shirt. They are all up on my closet on the order I am going to wear them. I never vary from the order.
Caution my next post will be the 25 random things about me that did not make the list. (there is nothing in the rules that say they need to be %100 accurate.)
I am not sure if the public is ready for random facts about me.
Here we go?
1-Aqua phobic.
2-Had my very first kiss at the ripe old age of 24
3-Have a very quick wit, which can get me into trouble.
4-Have lived through 5 major earthquakes, including the 1989 San Francisco, dozens of blizzards, 4 tornadoes, 2 ice storms, 1 fire that destroyed 10,000 homes in San Diego, our home was spared, but we were evacuated.
5- Have limited memory of my childhood
6- Have moved 42 times in my life.
7-Hate the saying “We need to talk” up until recently it was never followed by anything positive
8-I am truly a nice person, but I have to convince myself of this on a regular basis
9-I find humor in most things, including my own cancer. The down side is sometimes the ON switch is stuck in the ON position
10-If I pay for dinner with my debit card and leave the tip on the card the ending balance always need to end in a 0.00 (example $40.00 etc,) I am a great tipper.
11-I have never hit another person, nor has another person hit me.
12-I was invited to Marie Osmond’s first marriage.
13-Lived in two haunted houses.
14-Love movies that make me cry.
15-Love my wife with all my heart, I tell her that often, but I really don’t know how to show it.
16-Met my wife in a “Southern California” chat room on AOL. She wanted to cancel our first date, but decided not to. Too bad for her huh.
17-Moved from Modesto, California to St. Louis Missouri to be with a girl I met on AOL. It lasted a little over one month.
18- Never smoked
19-Quit drinking on May 31, 1980. I was heading in the wrong direction at the time. It was either quit drinking or practice saying “My name is Ramon and I’m a …”
20-Posses a photographic memory that is in dire need of repair.
21-Short (5’-4) to be exact. This is a good thing; if I were any taller, all of my pants would be too short.
22-Shy, very shy, uber shy. Which is why I say I grew up invisible?
23- Taught Sunday School for ten years
24- Was married to a woman with 10 diagnosed multiple personalities. Over time, all 10 of them hated me.
25-Wear a tie to work every day. I have 30 ties with a matching shirt. They are all up on my closet on the order I am going to wear them. I never vary from the order.
Caution my next post will be the 25 random things about me that did not make the list. (there is nothing in the rules that say they need to be %100 accurate.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)