Day 138

Day 138, self quarantine:

Thursday, July 30, 2020

Omg, this week isn’t over yet? 

Haha, I’m spoiled by three Fridays in a row off but this Friday is my boss’ getaway day before vacation and next Friday he’s away, so my Fridays off are on hold until my next vacation day on Friday, August 14.

After which I’m also taking Monday, August 17 off as one does on their birthday.

Oh cool I get a Zoom birthday this year.

Actually, Zoom would be more than I usually have.  Julie and Eric are always on tour during the summer.  I don’t remember the last time I had everyone here on my actual birthday.

And I’m just kidding about Zoom.  FaceTime works fine.

I’m laughing because every year for my birthday I usually buy myself something cool, usually handmade jewelry I find on Etsy and this year I’m like, jewelry, what’s that?

Etsy also sells homemade baked goods and chocolate, did you know that?

Go to Etsy and type “homemade dessert” in the search bar if you’re a freak like me and want to spend an enjoyable couple of hours.

I’m not doing it, I have Gary. 

But I get ideas from looking and all I have to do is say Strawberry mousse cups with milk chocolate and he’ll be all over it.

What’s really crazy is that despite all my talk about desserts, I notice I’m losing my sweet tooth during quarantine.  I’d rather eat spicy food and tart fruit.  Go figure.

I want French fries all the time.

Okay, that’s always been the case but still.

Let’s see, what else.

There’s a lot of bad stuff in the news today but Donald is dragging his right leg, sweating profusely, slurring his words, and making less sense than usual.

We may be getting lucky.  

Yesterday he tweeted this:

“I am happy to inform all of the people living their Suburban Lifestyle Dream that you will no longer be bothered or financially hurt by having low income housing built in your neighborhood. Your housing prices will go up based on the market, and crime will go down. I have rescinded the Obama-Biden AFFH Rule. Enjoy!”

He’s doing the White Nationalist thing in broad daylight now.

He’s a stone cold racist.

If you still support him, so are you.

In my mind, with 150K Covid deaths in this country, he’s also the worst PERSON, not just President, in American history.

Okay, just so you know where I stand on this.

Sigh.

In better news, our new bird feeder will be here today.  At first Gary got annoyed when I told him, but after despondently realizing that only Steve and Eydie were eating from his feeders the last two days...maybe because he BOUGHT squirrel feeders, Gary is now excited an award winning feeder designed for cardinals only is on its way here.

And yesterday...heart be still...I made serious progress toward Gary getting an iPhone.

“Where are you going?” he asked me frantically yesterday at 2:00 p.m.

I looked at him strangely.

“Uh...upstairs back to work? It’s 2:00.  Lunch is over.”

“Lou is here with the guys!  Can you leave your phone here so I can get some pics?”

“No, I can’t leave my phone here!  My boss texts me, my coworkers text me, and clients call me.”

“Oh.”

He looked so dejected, I went for it.

“I really don’t understand why you won’t let me get you an iPhone.  You’re a rebel without a cause.  You can’t text with the kids, you can’t take pics or record video when you walk Jake, you call me from your 15 year old flip phone and you yell at me when we can’t hear each other like it’s my fault. It’s not like you’re working anymore and your coworkers will tease you that you’re no longer a hippie because you have an iPhone...”

I looked at him hopefully.  I’ve been attempting this for how many years now?

I went in for the kill.

“You’ll be able to communicate with all the people you won’t see at music fantasy camp this summer.”

Gary blushed and gave me a sheepish half smile.

He didn’t say no.

I think this is gonna happen.

Oh man.  I had to get back to work after having two unproductive days.

I’m gonna bring it up again. This time I will talk about the safety aspect and why he needs a WORKING phone.

Also the fact he won’t have to use a 12 year old Garmin navigation system in our car, though what worries me is our Lexus has built in navigation and Gary spitefully never learned how to use that, either.

Because hippies don’t need up to date navigation systems.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Oy.  My life.

People, remember this.  The grass is never greener.

And on that note, I better get my head in gear for another super early start at work.

Rock on!

Day 137

Day 137, self quarantine:

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Working in Julie’s room
Is so fun - it’s like being set down in this insanely awesome flea market.  I can’t believe she left all this cool stuff behind!

I had the feather boa the mannequin is wearing wrapped around Jake for a brief second but he immediately shook it off and shot me the look you see in the photo.

Haha the same look as when I wore the hats and danced around him.  

“What fresh hell is this?”

Sigh...I know.  I completely lost my mind yesterday.

It actually all started Monday.

I innocently went on line to fill prescriptions for my blood pressure/heart medication, just like I do every month.  I hit submit.

Five minutes later I got an email saying my prescriptions couldn’t be refilled.

Since my prescriptions are good until the end of October and I pretty much need them to live, I got a little upset.

Which isn’t good if you have high blood pressure and an irregular heartbeat and only have one pill each left and the last place you want to go during a pandemic is a hospital.

I’ll spare you the details of the massive computer glitch that said I had two different insurance coverages for prescriptions and my exasperation that I couldn’t just freaking pay cash until the insurance was resolved, although when I learned what it cost, jfc, I better never be without insurance.

Anyway, this debacle started Monday morning and didn’t get resolved until 3:30 yesterday when Gary was finally able to pick up my pills.

I kept apologizing to my boss but I was literally on the phone for two days.

By the 87th conference call with all kinds of assorted insurance  people, I cracked.

I could have started hollering and cursing and driven up my blood pressure a little more.

Instead I threw my hands up in the air, cranked up the music, and put on some hats I’d been eyeing in Julie’s room since I first set up my office in here.

What else could I do?

Haha, prior to quarantine, I was pretty vain.  The fact that I’m posting these hat pics unfiltered proves I no longer care about such mundane things as clean hair or real clothing and I have zero fucks left to give.

It’s so damn liberating I can’t even begin to tell you.

And then I went downstairs to watch my birds and omg, I can’t even believe what happened next.

Lou flew right up to our screen door, chirped really loudly, and looked in at us.

“Did you see that?” Gary gasped.

“I did!  Omg, Gary, it must be mating season!  He came looking for you!”

And then Lou came back with two friends!  Or family members, who knows, what I do know is they’re all guys, based on what Google tells me about cardinals.

Wait, three cardinals — does that mean we get 3x the luck?

Three resignations?  Alright!

I’ll take Donald, Mike Pence and Bill Barr.

Gary was pissed, the birds didn’t eat any food from the feeder but that’s because he bought the wrong one and that should be rectified today or tomorrow when evil Amazon delivers the correct one to me.

I also got us a birdbath.

Anyway, yeah, we had three cardinals in our yard at once. So why didn’t I get a pic of Lou, Ted and Murray?

Because my phone was in use, listening to BBC Scotland.

I know, right?

Eric texted me that he was just tagged in a tweet from Roddy Hart, a DJ at Radio Scotland, that he was about to play some music from Eric Slick.

I immediately went on Twitter like I wasn’t there already, found the tweet, followed the link, and listened live.

It’s so surreal that we can do things like that.

Anyway, he played Closer to Heaven!  It sounded AMAZING.  It hasn’t been played here yet so it was awesome to hear it on BBC radio...and then after the song, the DJ went on and on about Eric and Natalie, and about how Eric is the happiest drummer he ever saw play live.

And he said all this in the coolest Scottish accent.

Gary and I got all teary eyed.

How incredible that I wrapped up 24 hours of misery with something so awesome.

And that’s why I didn’t get pics of Lou, Ted or Murray yesterday.

But I will.

And I’m really grateful.  I know that I’m blessed to be able to walk away from a crap day via three cardinals in my yard and my son and daughter-in-law on BBC radio.

I mean, really.

And then Gary made breakfast for dinner and we had home fries and cinnamon toast with our eggs so, no, it doesn’t get any better.

Well, if there wasn’t a pandemic and we were on a beach somewhere with our family...

So really, the only thing that sucks is I’m currently two days behind at work.  Not good.  But I know what I have to do today, I simply need to focus and get it done.

I will.

I just can’t try on any hats today.

The trick will be to still do that mentally.

Okay then!

Carry on, my wayward ones.

Day 136

Day 136, self quarantine:

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Woo, lots happening today.

Thank goddess Mercury is finally out of retrograde.

First, hockey pre-season starts today, unless someone on the Flyers tests positive between now and 4:00 tonight.

We should have an over/under pool.

“You excited?” I asked Gary.

“Not really.  I mean, I’ll watch and everything.  It’s on early, right?  Because we need to watch Frontline at 10:00, it’s called The United States of Conspiracy and it’s all about Trump.”

I tried not to smile too condescendingly.  I’ve been living with Trump 24/7 for almost four years and I’m exhausted beyond belief.  To see Gary the political newbie so freshly indignant by all things Donald is adorable.

I’m no longer even a little bit shocked he’s throwing hockey over for politics, either, but assuming this aborted season actually has a Stanley Cup final and the Flyers are in it, I’m pretty positive pre-apocalypse Gary will make a return appearance.

Today is also the day Bill Barr testifies before the House Judiciary Committee.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

First of all, who really thinks he’s showing up?

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Who thinks if he shows up, he’s going to say anything earth shattering?

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Who thinks if he shows up and says something earth shattering, it won’t be an outrageous lie or conspiracy theory?

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Who among us isn’t going to start singing the Beatles’ I am the Walrus the minute Bill Barr does or does not start speaking?

“I am the egg man...they are the egg men...I am the walrus...goo goo g’joob.”

Okay, I’ll stop.

But I’m sorry, the dude is evil as hell AND resembles a walrus.

It’s my journal.  I calls it as I sees it.

So what else is today?

Hockey, Frontline, Barr...maybe that’s it but the day is young.

Gary procured our bird feeders yesterday and I’m now officially a loony old lady birdwatcher.

Omg, I love it.

We had all kinds of visitors throughout the day.  I got excited like a little kid.

When Lou swung by and sat on the buddha’s head, I completely lost it.  It’s now my life’s mission to get a better picture than the one I posted in comments yesterday:

Gary is amused.

“You didn’t watch birds when you were a kid?  What kind of childhood did you have?”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“You know all about it, you were there for most of it.  But aside from that, little girls in the early sixties didn’t bird watch.  We did things like play with paper dolls and make potholders out of rags.”

“You did not,” Gary said.

“Ugh, I tried to enjoy stuff like that but I was a twisted child. Bird watching would have been a nice respite from pretending my bedroom was an apartment in someone else’s house.  Or was that in France?   I forget.”

“Pretty sure you told me it was the suburbs.”

Gary held up his arms to deflect my imaginary blow to his head.

“Well, whatever, I wasn’t even ten and I was already plotting my own place for a rendezvous with John, George and/or Paul.”

“Ringo must have been crushed,” Gary said, shaking his head.

“He looked too much like one of my relatives.”

Yep, we’re now bantering with each other, too, probably to keep from killing each other, dying of boredom, or both.

Yikes.

So yeah, birdwatching.  Wow.  I can unequivocally say, 100%, that birdwatching is something I never would have gotten into before quarantine.

Now, I’ve spent the last two days obsessed.

How about that.

If this apocalypse lasts much longer, I’ll be canning tomatoes and sewing a quilt.

Hmmm.

Oh well.  For now I’m still a productive member of society suing people.

I’ll let Gary do the canning and sewing.

Okay, okay.  Off I go.

And if you’re feeling blue today, remember, Lou is promising Donald’s resignation next month.

Have faith! 😎

Day 135

Day 135, self quarantine:

Monday, July 27, 2020

So here’s a fun fact I learned during quarantine: Gary really does have conversations with birds and now they visit him daily, too.

Yesterday, I looked out back and did a double-take.

“Gary!  You’ve gotta see this! Omg there’s a bright red tropical bird in our yard!”

Gary laughed.  “That’s Lou. Lou’s a cardinal.  He’s been coming around since I installed Flo back there,” he said, pointing to the pink metal flamingo he brought home from Aldi a few weeks ago.

“Lou?  His name is Lou?”

“It’s short for Louis.”

Okay, my husband is a lunatic but I guess I am, too, because I got it.

St. Louis Cardinals, duh.

“That’s amazing, Gary.  Did you know that cardinals are spiritual messengers and when a cardinal visits, they bring good luck?”

https://www.caringcardinals.com/spiritual-symbolism

“Really?”  Gary’s whole face li up.  He was into it.

Don’t forget, he’s still a hippie who never left 1969.

“Yep.  I just looked it up.  We’re gonna have good luck at noon, midnight, or within twelve days.  Ooh, ooh, it also says the cardinal is our late loved ones letting us know everything is going to be okay.”

“Oh yeah?  Where were they yesterday when you were dry heaving into a paper bag?”

I made a face at him.

“You know you believe this stuff, Gary.  You’re the one who freaking talks to birds.”

But now I’m wondering if the cardinal is visiting because of Flo or us.

Actually, Flo is the last thing a cardinal wants to see.  

https://www.perkypet.com/articles/how-to-attract-cardinals

So it IS my mother!  Hi, mom!

Oh.  It’s probably Gary’s mom.

Hi, Grandmom!  

(Because I have issues, I didn’t call Gary’s mother anything until the kids were born, thus “Grandmom” 😂)

But wait, if the cardinal came today to let us know everything is okay after I thought I had coronavirus and had a horrible anxiety attack Saturday, then it’s gotta be my mom.

Yeah, I’m going with that.

Besides, she was a redhead at various points in her thirties.

With everything going on, I’ll take whatever good luck this family can get right now.

Holy cow, it says if you regularly feed cardinals, they take up residence in your garden permanently.

Omg, I’m sending Gary out for a bird feeder and food ASAP.

I cannot begin to tell you how gorgeous this bird is.  At one point it flew so close to me I was too startled to get a pic and then it just kept flying from tree to tree until it finally landed long enough for me to get a decent shot through the screen door after we went back inside.

The entire time Gary and the bird were yapping back and forth with each other and oh crap, why didn’t I take video?

Welp, to be fair, I didn’t have time to react, the whole event was over in seconds. 

Insert gross sex with Donald simile here.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

“So when did you learn how to speak cardinal?” I asked Gary.

You’d think after fifty years you’d know a guy.

“It was around ten years ago or whenever I went down to Nashville to help Julie and Adrian out at Studio Belew. Julie was doing some engineering work and I drilled holes for cables and stuff.  I would sit on Ade’s deck in the morning and all of these crazy birds were out there.  I started imitating their calls back to them and within minutes I had this whole Bird Man of Alcatraz thing going on. So now I talk to birds all the time and it’s why I get pissed when you throw out the bread ends without asking because I feed them every day.”

“Well, jeez, you could have told me about the bread.”

“I did.  Like 100 times.”

Oy.  He’s right.  But honestly, if I’m not a drill sergeant doing clean up behind him in the kitchen, terrible, terrible things happen.

Anyway, my husband talks to animals.  When I walk Jake with him, literally every dog in dog park runs up to greet Gary, not Jake.  It’s hilarious. Gary knows all their names.

“Hey, Winston, how’s that arthritis?  Phoebe!  You got a haircut!  Don’t you look beautiful!”

Phoebe literally got down and rolled over on her back on top of Gary’s feet.

He scratched her tummy and she made all kinds of happy sounds.

These are Gary’s people.

I’m hoping if god forbid Trump gets re-elected and his secret police come for me for calling Donald Tiny Penis Man, Grandpa Crazypants, and Bunker Boi on Twitter, Gary will let out an S.O.S. whistle to all of his friends in the animal kingdom and they’ll swoop down and rescue me from the clutches of the evil putrid Trump Republicans and/or Trump’s secret police.

But not before pecking out their eyes and ripping out their tongues.

Wait, wasn’t that a movie?

If not, it should be.

So we didn’t have good luck at noon or midnight yesterday - I guess it’s coming within the next twelve days.

Hear that, Donald?  You’re resigning by August 7, 2020.

Be happy I said resigning.  I’m really thinking way worse.

Oy, can you tell I’m not feeling my paralegal gig this morning? 

I want to spend today out in the yard listening to Gary talk to birds.

Oh well.  Some day soon.

Very soon 😜.

In the meantime, hey ho, it’s off to work I go.

Have an awesome Monday.

Day 134

Day 134, self quarantine:

Sunday, July 26, 2020

So yesterday afternoon I was sitting on the sofa, playing with my phone while Gary was upstairs getting dressed when all of a sudden, I felt unbelievably sick.

Ugh, I know it makes no sense because I am in freaking quarantine, but because I am me, in the ten minutes Gary left me alone, I somehow managed to convince myself I had coronavirus.

Naturally I started panicking.

Poor Gary.  He walked upstairs and left a happy, kinda normal person on the couch and came downstairs to psycho woman dripping in sweat and doubled over.

I guess the only strange part about this story is that it took four months to happen.

Have I mentioned I’m a raging hypochondriac?

I was just going over the benefits of quarantine in my brain the other day.  I regularly get  four head colds a year, with every season.  Gary, who worked in a huge, warehouse type place with 80 employees, used to bring me home every virus out there.

But yeah, since the two of us are quarantined, we’ve both been in perfect health.

I immediately thought I gave myself a kinehora.

https://www.myjewishlearning.com/?definitions=kinehora

The day had started out awesome. We were both pretty chill and excited about dinner.

One of my weird quarantine habits, either because I have too much time on my hands or I’m now officially an old person since this is what old people do, is to google people, places and things from my past.

I even google places I know aren’t there any more, somehow hoping I was wrong or they were somehow resurrected.

I have no idea why I’m doing this, but anyway, Gary brought up a restaurant we ate at regularly when we were first married, which was Philadelphia’s first Asian fusion restaurant (long out of business)and I got obsessed with the idea of having a similar meal for dinner last night.

All of a sudden, I remembered a great fusion restaurant we used to order takeout from a couple times a month when the kids lived home.

So it’s been well over ten years, maybe fifteen, since we ate there.

I googled them, not expecting to get lucky, but yes!  They were not only still in business, they just relocated to the site of another nearby restaurant we used to eat at all the time when the kids were little.

I have no idea why we stopped going there, either, other than we probably got sick of it.

Haha, you should have seen the rabbit hole I went down when Google maps showed me the restaurant and street - south 20th and Spruce, which is home to several cool shops and restaurants.  A lot of those places were around in my teens through my forties...now, all new but still “mom and pop” which is pretty crazy for downtown Philadelphia.

Anyway, once I told Gary about the restaurant, I literally spent an hour pouring over the menu picking out our order.

We were both unreasonably excited.

And now virus girl was messing up everything.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Gary asked, alarmed.

“God no.  I’ll die at home.”

No worries, Gary is used to me.

“What do you think this is?  We ate the same exact thing unless you’re hiding food again.”

“No, I ate a bowl of Cheerios with some almond milk around three hours ago.  That’s all I had.  Can you make me some tea?  I think I am having an anxiety attack.  Omg, why am I this sick?”

I gotta tell you, every hypochondriac should have a Gary.  He springs into immediate emergency room physician chef mode.

“What kind of tea do you want?”

“The kind that stops panic attacks,” I gasped, as another wave of nausea swept over me.

“You want the Kava Stress Relief?”

Omg, how many types of anxiety relief tea do we have?  Just make me a fucking cup so I can unclench my jaw.

“Yessss,” I said instead.

How the fuck did I get the virus?  Omg, I had to go to the post office for work on Monday.  Did I get in from someone standing in line?

Omg, I’m the one who sent Gary to Danny’s Guitar Shop on Wednesday.  Did he bring it home to me?

I wrapped myself in a blanket, shivering.

Gary walked in with my tea.

“What happened?  You were fine a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t know.  I was sitting here reading and all of a sudden I had a searing low back pain and I got nauseous beyond belief...”

I was literally dripping sweat.  Fuck, maybe this was a heart attack AND the virus.

“Sounds like a kidney stone to me,” said Dr. Gary.

Oh.  Oh, right.

How could I forget?

Especially since I have been plagued with them since age 21.

To make a long story short, once I realized it was neither a coronary or coronavirus, I made a miraculous recovery but I still felt nauseous and had no more appetite for Asian fusion food.

Gary made me his famous vegetarian chicken soup.

I swear, it’s Jewish penicillin on steroids.  I felt better after one spoonful.

So that was my day yesterday.

I still don’t feel 100% this morning but if you’ve ever suffered an anxiety attack, this is typical.  You get a hangover like effect for a day or two afterward.

I’m glad Gary made a big pot of his magic soup.

I’m actually going to take a page from Gary’s playbook and get off my heiny and do some housework now.   It really is best to stay active physically when your brain is too active emotionally.

Live long and prosper, comrades.

Day 133

Day 133, self quarantine:

Saturday, July 25, 2020

Wow, July is almost over. We’re about to enter month five of quarantine.

I still can’t believe how radically everything has changed in so short a period of time.

I’ve talked about the changes in Gary but they’re still pretty astounding to me.

The man who wouldn’t watch the news or discuss political anything is now a news junkie who is constantly interrupting me with breaking news I read six hours ago on Twitter.

I really need to get that man an iPhone and you know what?  I just realized it’s the pre-quarantine Gary who didn’t want a phone. Apocalypse Gary is gonna fucking love one.  I am so doing it.

Oh my poor kids when he learns how to text for the first time..they think I’m a pain in the ass...😂😂😂

So in our new geek life, we watch Jeopardy every night at 7:00 and at 7:30, we watch the Daily Show we taped from the previous night because we can’t stay up until 11:00 to watch it “live.”

But last night at 7:00 was opening night for the Phillies.

Pre-apocalypse, sports obsessed Gary would watch sumo wrestling over any non-sports television.

At 7:00 p.m., we settled in front of the tv with Friday night pizza.  I grabbed the remote and put on the Phillies.

“What are you doing?” Jeez, he shouted at me so loud I jumped and almost dropped my plate.

“Huh?”

“Put Jeopardy back on!  We’re not going to watch Jeopardy?”

I stared at him, my jaw pretty much on the floor.

“Jeopardy is a rerun,” I said, still completely in shock.

“Yeah, but I never saw it and this is a classic from the archives!”

Wut?  I could see him being excited by a classic Jeopardy from the archives...IF HE EVER WATCHED IT but...😂😂😂😂😂😂

Anyway, I was more than happy to watch Jeopardy.

And The Daily Show after that.

After which we watched Palm Springs together, which Gary absolutely loved, marking the first time we watched a movie together that wasn’t about music since Something About Mary in 1998.

I’m not even lying.

So here comes another huge shift in our relationship.  Gary loves movies.

Omg, where do I even begin with that?

You realize our quarantine can now last for the next thirty years and we’re never gonna run out of something to do.

So that’s pretty interesting.

Oh, we did tune in to the end of the Phillies game.  They lost.  

Gary shrugged and put on the news.

I still can’t believe it.

Naturally I’ve been thinking about my own changes, too.

I admit to starting quarantine in March like it was an adventure and an unexpected two week paid vacation from work.

When it looked like I had to work remotely from home for a couple more weeks, I went from being happy to horrified. I struggled getting even a simple letter done.  I missed my office.

Within a few more weeks, I got used to it, and as news of the virus worsened, I started writing that it would be unacceptable to return to work until Memorial Day.

And then it was okay, now I don’t see how I can go back until July 4.

We all know where I’m at now.

It’s all good, I’m happy with my decision.

I’m ready.

I have a LOT of movies to watch.

Happy Saturday!

Day 132

Day 132, self quarantine:

Friday, July 24, 2020

I woke up this morning in a great mood but when I went to write something, I didn’t have much to say.  So rather than force it, I remembered I had a movie to watch.

And it’s produced by my cousin!

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/palm-springs-producer-becky-sloviter-head-female-comedy-label-at-mrc-film-1304058

All I can say is this movie, Palm Springs, is the best thing that’s happened to me since quarantine!

I can’t wait until Gary wakes up so he can watch it, too, and I can watch it again.

Omg the writing in this movie.  The actors!  It’s so much fun I can’t stop smiling.

So that’s it, that’s the post. Stop what you’re doing and watch this movie!

You can thank me later.

xo