Gimmeoxygen's Blog

October 26, 2009

Come – Dance With Me

Filed under: Winter — Ruby Dabling @ 7:23 pm
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A friend of mine tested positive for the H1N1 virus.  She’s pretty sick, and its worrisome to me as they haven’t had enough of the vaccine available here for me to get one.  She’ll be all right, she’s just feverish, achy, is producing more snot that one would believe possible, and her tummy is a bit unfriendly to all things food at this moment, so at least she’s not in any real danger beyond being given the most noxious of home cures by her loving mother, a herbalist.

I like the word ‘influenza’.  I love the sound of it – innfluENzaaaa – but it doesn’t sound like what it really is.  It sounds like a sexy, exotic dance from the 1920’s – “I spent my nights in Spain drinking champagne, and dancing the influenza with Raoul until dawn”.  What it doesn’t sound like is being delirious with fever, drowning in your own snot, and  puking up the chicken soup meant to soothe your body and your soul.

Delirious is a great word, too.  I get crazy, high fevers when I’m ill, and I’ve noticed that when they get around 104 degrees I don’t feel sick anymore – I feel GOOD, like I’m floating, and I have the best vivid fever dreams.  I’m told that’s delirium, and it’s a Very Bad Thing, but…I dunno…like I said, after a point, you feel pretty darn good.  (Not that I recommend exposing yourself to what could be a fatal illness just to catch a cheap buzz, k?)

Maybe I’ll become delirious and dance the influenza if I can’t secure a vaccine soon enough.   Pass the champagne, Raoul, and tell the band to play it again!


October 24, 2009

Never Trust Anything with Eight Legs

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ruby Dabling @ 8:22 pm
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Dear Mr. Spider,

Even though I’m phobic, I’ve let you live on the windowsill above the kitchen sink.  True, I was going to kill you, but I saw you’d captured the little fly who’d been aggravating me for a few days, and I have to admit I was grateful for that.  Against my better judgement, I didn’t disturb you.  I’ve been keeping an eye on you, though.  A close eye.

The day you ventured from the window to perch on my dogs’ treat  jar, I used a popsicle stick to persuade you to return to your rightful place, and I thought that the talk we had made it quite clear that I wasn’t going to tolerate you gallivanting all over the house doing spidery things behind my back.  I thought you and I had come to an accord on that, and I might not be versed in the language of arachnids, but I do believe you gave me you word you’d stay within the boundaries of your territory.

Well, this morning I was making coffee and noticed you’d abandoned your post and are off godknowswhere doing godknowswhat.  To my credit, I didn’t immediately freak out and soak every inch of my hovel with bug spray while doing the Eek!  Is That a Spider? dance, but I’m giving you fair notice that our agreement, such as it was, is, now, void, and I reserve the right to stomp your brown, fuzzy ass into mashed mush if I see you lurking about.


The Lady in the Size Six Spider-Stomping Shoes

P.S.  In the event you’ve crawled off somewhere to die, or to hibernate through the long winter, ignore this notice and accept my humble apologies.

(The problem, though, is that I keep thinking he is out somewhere rounding up all his spider friends to spend the winter here in my Bug Hostel…ACK!)

October 23, 2009

Interesting Food

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ruby Dabling @ 2:06 am
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On occasion, I make interesting food.  This is because I’m not afraid to take risks.  I’m, also, not the best cook, either.  Some of the things that come out of my kitchen have never been eaten by humans before.

I was in a nostalgic mood.  I wanted to have a comfort-food dinner just like mommy used to make me when I was too young to realize that she couldn’t cook, either, so I decided to whip up meatloaf, mashed potatoes and corn like she would have made.

Well, I had a problem right away.  I didn’t have any breadcrumbs, corn flakes, or even oatmeal to use in the meatloaf.  I’d have to improvise.  Improvisation in the kitchen is what usually gets me into trouble, and today was no exception.  I did, however, discover something very important:

You can not substitute crushed Froot Loops for bread or cracker crumbs.

Well, you CAN because I did…just don’t expect the results to earn you applause, that’s all I’m saying.

It was, however, a very interesting meatloaf, and my little dog will be eating it for a week…

October 21, 2009

Nope, Not a Criminal

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ruby Dabling @ 1:56 am
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I’d make a lousy criminal. I can’t even think of sampling a grape in the produce section when I’m shopping without feeling like Raskolnikov standing with the bloody axe in his hand. I can see myself being led away in handcuffs as people stare and whisper.

“It was an unwashed grape, too – think of it!”

“I’d check the boxes in the cookie aisle if I was the manager here.”

“Check her purse for Gummibears!”

The story would headline the local evening news with my mugshots prominently displayed as the talking head recommends that everyone check their pantries for missing crackers or dwindling stores of snack cakes.

I imagine myself in orange prison garb using a PedEgg to sand the callouses off Large Marges’ feet as she reminisces on how we met, and the many beatdowns she had to give me before I realized we were meant for one another.

Finally, I see myself dying a cold and lonely death huddled in a battered cardboard box underneath a bridge because I couldn’t rejoin society and get a job.  (Not with PROPERTY OF LARGE MARGE tattooed across my forehead in large block letters anyway…)

Guess I’d never make it in politics either, then, huh?

October 15, 2009

The Pig and I

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ruby Dabling @ 9:30 pm
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I was drinking coffee this morning, and giving half an ear to the news when I heard that they (The Powers That Be) are considering a ban on bacon.

Bacon. That sodium nitrate-soaked treat of fried, crispy, meat-flavored fat whose smell is guaranteed to tempt even the most dedicated slugabed to brave the morning at the kitchen table.

Bacon. It makes a good cheeseburger better. It gives a salad personality. It makes my little dog stand up and dance her little heart out in hopes of being given one bite, one small bite, from my plate.

“Say it ain’t so!” we all shout in unison. Let us know the name of the maniac who suggested this travesty so that we may disembowel him as we staple pork rinds to his forehead.

I’m tired of being told what I should, and should not, eat or do. I’m a pariah because I smoke, and have hired a homeless man to walk ten paces in front of me ringing a bell and crying out, “Unclean! Unclean!” I wear my seatbelt even though I’m stuck in traffic that barely breaks 10 mph for the hour it takes me to get to an exit ramp. I have my Twinkies gift-wrapped when I buy them so people will think I’m giving them as a present to someone I don’t like very much. If I get hungry for Taco Bell, I not only go to one in the next town over, but I wear a disguise and affect a British accent just in case someone thinks they recognize me. I refuse to resort to subterfuge just so I can have bacon and eggs once every few weeks for breakfast (and I slather REAL BUTTER on my WHITE toast, too…so there!). I’ve had it with being made to feel guilty because all of the Good Things are bad for me.

What happened to moderation? Even someone as self-indulgent as I am know that a steady diet of bacon, Twinkies, and Taco Bell washed down with strong coffee and a pack of Marlboros is bad for me. It’s why I look at most of those things as treats and limit how much I allow myself (except for coffee and sweet iced tea…I am unrepentant on those dietary staples). I dislike being forced into good habits. Don’t you? I don’t need someone monitoring what I eat and do, and I’m willing to pay the consequences if I go astray and consume seven pounds of Black Label Thick-Cut bacon one morning before going facedown in my plate to die of cardiac arrest.

Maybe you can live quite well on a steady diet of tofu, bean sprouts, brown rice and green tea, but some of us like a juicy bacon cheeseburger once in awhile, yanno?


October 5, 2009

The Elk Are Amused

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ruby Dabling @ 6:18 pm
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I was talking to Gloom yesterday.  He’s excited about his upcoming annual elk-hunting trip upcountry with his friends.  I am amazed at his capacity to forget, each year, how miserable these excursions turn out to be.  Last year, for example, they all nearly died of carbon monoxide poisoning because the heater wasn’t vented properly.

This year should be very interesting.  Not only is one of the usual suspects, Beef, insisting on going despite major surgery and a three-week hospital stay (he was only released a few days ago), but HairyGuy is bringing along one of his drunks (HairyGuy is a drug-and-alcohol counsellor); a guy, 26, who is sick of taking chemo, and wants to go hunting one more time.  Cheats’ brother, Leech, is going, too – the Master of Mooch, the ever-outstretched Hand of Want – and everyone dislikes him.  Gloom, himself, has a horror of all things dirty, and will spend the ten days desperately wanting to go home to a hot shower and a thorough scrubbing.

So, let me get this straight – an invalid, a dying man, a human-shaped parasite and a clean freak are going to share a tent for ten days in the freezing cold up on a mountain where no one can hear them cry into their pillows at night, right?

They go every year, though, and start planning the next trip on the long drive back home…

They should return with a lot of stories this year, at least.  I just hope one of them doesn’t begin with:  “So, HairyGuy dared me to poke the bear in the ass with a pointy stick, and…”

I don’t think the elk have too much to worry about…

October 4, 2009

Settling in for the Long Winter

Filed under: Winter — Ruby Dabling @ 1:40 am

Living here in Colorado on the edge of nowhere, I’ve learned that there are five seasons dividing the year.

A brief spring.

A few weeks of summer.

Two and a half nanoseconds of autumn.

A long, cold winter.



We’re at the start of the long, cold winter.  I won’t be driven mad by the solitude and lack of sunshine until sometime in January, I expect, when I will begin dressing myself as Carmen Miranda and trying to teach the dog to rhumba, but – in the meantime – I thought I’d join the crowd and start a blog.

This is my blog.

So……that’s it, then.

Carry on…

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