Society & Culture in the US

My friend called me up today in tears. I've been trying to help her through a really difficult time right now. She confided that she's having a bit of a problem with collection harassment at the moment. I wish the people who are calling her could listen to some of our conversations. Then they would know the kind of person she is and what she's been through. The man whom she thought was the love of her life just left her and she's been in and out of hospitals to address a number of health concerns that cropped up shortly afterward. The medical expenses absolutely crushed her and the end of that relationship emotionally devastated her. I was there for her during that time too. None of us even saw that coming. I actually think all the health problems are her body's way of reacting to the shock of that loss. What's amazing about her is that in spite of all of her heartache she still managed to donate time to various charities. It would be nice if these collection harassment people knew something about her life. Anyways, I know it's part of their job description to get money from people but I wish people could have more compassion.

Had a little trouble in my bathroom. Things got ugly and I had to leave, right away. It was the image in the mirror. Okay, I know it was my own face, but boy I have got to do something about those blemishes. They are taking over. Really it’s the scars they are leaving behind. But I have a plan. I am going to check out Chicago laser skin care options. I bet I can find someplace to go where I will emerge and look all rosy and cute like a rose petal. Of course all rosy and cute will probably be after all is said and done. I don’t remember the last time I have seen my skin completely smooth and blemish free. I have given up looking in that three way mirror at my back. Why me, Lord??!!! I don’t need these pimples and want them zapped! gone! I shall start doing what I am good at, researching. There has got to be a solution out there for me. I am going to have to ask my Mom for help in doing this though, since I know I won’t be able to do it on my babysitting money.

I was unbelievably tired today. I had to get a lot of things done that did not get done at all. I ended up picking up my mother and helping her and my brother rip up some carpet. It was a little funny because by the time we got home, she was telling everyone they were sick and needed new glasses. It was partly my fault, on the way home I mentioned getting sight correction surgery and how tired and run down I felt. She was on the warpath after that. Eat right, exercise, and the whole deal. She also told me how my dad was feeling just about the same way I was, which I found kind of funny. I know sons mirror their father in some ways, but getting sick at the same time with the same symptoms, weird. Then she got to my brother and started from the top. She went on and on about his fever, then moved on to how he needed glasses and just looks discolored all around. Now, how my mom deduced that he needed glasses is beyond me, seeing as how he has never worn them, but then again, moms all have that sixth sense huh?

A friend of mine went home to Michigan this week and asked me to cat sit for her. It is a first for me seeing as how I have never had a pet. Well, I guess technically I had two, a dog for a couple of weeks and a gold fish for a couple of days. Never cats though, probably because one I am not a cat person, and two I am allergic to them. I is not too horrible for me though, she left the cats at her place, all I have to do is go over there and feed them and make sure they did not set the place on fire, and check the mail. I had my first visit last night. I was not too traumatized by the state of the apartment, I have seen it before in a state of disarray and this was not too bad. Just a couple of Cosmo and Good House Keeping magazines lying around. One was open to a golf aid advertisement next to one of the cats’ pillows, which amused me because it looked like she was reading it. I did not start getting a little nervous until the cat food ran out and I was not sure if I should go get some more, or if what they had was enough for two days. Again, I have never had a cat so I have no idea how much they eat. After a long deliberation I finally decided that what they had should be enough, having seen what was left over from when she filled their dishes, and decided to go to the store today and get some more food for them. I think they will be alright, my logic being a human can live at least a day without eating anything, I know I have done it before. So hopefully they will be still alive when I get their tomorrow.

When I was growing up, I was the only person in my family who didn’t wear glasses. I wasn’t even far-sighted or near-sighted. I saw strongly and clearly. Even my extended family all wore glasses, or rather they should have. My cousin Charles always needed glasses or contacts but never wore them. Then my fraternal twin brother Jon got Lasik Eye Surgery. If you’ve never heard of it, Lasik Eye Surgery is the surgical process where they improve someone’s vision so they don’t have to wear glasses or contacts. Jon only wore glasses until he turned 14. After the procedure, he insisted on wearing contacts even though he no longer needed them but wanted people to think he had blue eyes (they’re brown). He also wanted everyone to call him Jonathan from now on. To annoy him, I would always call him Johnny and I kept a pair of his old glasses. Also, I would set my alarm clock to wake up at least 15 minutes earlier than him. While he still slept, I slipped his old glasses onto him so that when he woke up, he’d see everything blurrily and remember what he was like before he got Lasik Eye Surgery. Then he would punch me in the shoulder, but it was always worth it even if my shoulder ached for a while.

I had some spare time on my hands today and decided to go down to the bookstore and pick up some health magazines. I picked up several about diabetes and some about healthful eating. I've been wanting to educate myself about it ever since finding out my wife has it. I think I'm going to call up a friend who always seems to have a positive attitude about everything. She knows all about diabetes and living well. We only recently found out the news after my wife went to visit with our doctor. I don't think the diagnosis has to mean a grim lifestyle for her at all. My wife was concerned about it and how that might affect her quality of life, but I don't see my friend letting it hold her back. I know there are other people who are dealing with the same thing and some of our close friends have even more severe health problems. I keep reminding her that things could be a lot worse which seemed to make her feel somewhat better. I think if anything she'll wind up being thankful for getting this as a wake-up call. She's let her health slip over the last few years and I think unless she heard the news she might have avoided making any progress. I wish the diagnosis wasn't as serious, but we all face our challenges and she's not alone!

We enjoyed going to my brother-in-laws new vacation home for a weekend get together. Actually we ended us staying four days. It seems the whole family was there, at one time or another, and there was hardly sleeping room. We all brought sleeping bags, and home cooked dishes. The kids loved fishing at the lake and some of us rowed out into the middle of the lake to fish. We all stayed up late, ate grilled fish and vegetables — Grandma does not believe in frying any kind of food — and played all sorts of games. The men got into a disagreement about whether Brinks Home Security should have been the choice my brother-in-law made for his home. They were pros and cons thrown back and forth for a while, until everyone decided most of them were basically the same. This conclusion was drawn after much debate and many beers, with some wine thrown in for good measure. Of course, Grandma was having a very good time just sitting and relaxing for a change. She usually is in the kitchen directing the cooks, but since we all brought a dish or two, it was really nice and really relaxing.

My father hates my tattoos. He’s certain that one day when I’m older and wiser I’ll regret getting them in the first place and want to pay for the laser treatment or surgery that will remove them. Of course I wouldn’t have gotten them in the first place if I wasn’t sure that I wanted them for the rest of my life. I didn’t get anything stupid like a flaming skull or a girl’s name inked onto me that I’d hate looking at in the mirror every single day. I wanted deeply personal symbols. On my right arm, I have a Celtic knot, which admittedly means nothing. It’s just there because I’m Irish. Underneath that, I have a phoenix. Over on my left arm, I have a tree of life with ouroboros sitting on its branches. Ouroboros is the ancient symbol of the snake devouring its own tail I’m sure you’ve seen a thousand times before. Eternal life and immortality are the two running themes in my tattoos. I’m not religious or especially spiritual, but I like to think that part of me, if only the memory of me will go on forever even after I die and everyone else I know is gone as well.

My brother Dick is a personal injury attorney in Illinois. He lives in the city of Chicago. I haven’t been to Chicago, but I’ve been to New York, so I know what big cities are like, believe you me. My brother has his own law firm in Chicago. He graduated from DePaul University, first his BA, then his JD. Our parents moved to Florida a year before I was born, but when Dick was still in high school, they lived in a suburb of Chicago known as Riverside. It’s just west of Oak Park, where Frank Lloyd Wright’s famous houses are. Yes, Dick and I are 17 years apart. My mother was only 20 when Dick was born. When my dad came into some family money, they said, what the hey, let’s try it again, let’s try for a girl this time. And there I was, Camillia Patrice Zonenmast. Well, here’s the latest on ol’ CPZ. I’m returning to school myself—SUNY at Binghamton—for pre-med studies. I’m going to try to become a psychologist with a PsycD degree. I promised my brother that I would refer clients who felt wrongly injured by their employers or by their families or friends to him. It’s a long shot, because I live in Elmira, New York, which is well over 800 miles from Chicago. The good news is—Dick’s best college buddy, Steve, practices in Albany. I dated Steve recently after his first divorce, but nothing came of it and I suspect it’s just as well.

My Grandmother has a friend who she goes to visit once a week. The other day, she was preparing something that smelled delicious. She said she was making a 3 berry trifle for her friend, Miss Bessie. is diabetic. My Grandmother decided that each week she would make her a special sweet dish and take it along for her visit. Miss Bessie now lives in a assisted living facility. A lot of the residents there know my Grandma and enjoy her company, as well as her deserts. They know its time for blood glucose meters to be used again sometime after they have had their lunch, and a good helping of Grandma 3 berry trifle. The group of residents that knows my Grandma look forward to Wednesdays, and even sometimes Sundays. My Grandma visits at least once a week, but sometimes twice. Since she cooks for Grandpa for some 30 years now, she is very good at preparing food for diabetics. She has known Miss Bessie since they were in the cradle together. They grew up practically next door to each other, and have always been staunch allies. Miss Bessie used to be, as Grandma puts it, skinny as a rail, but has gain weight.