Trans Trains

So, I’ve been absent from here as of late due to health issues (big shocker) and because I discovered Tumblr. Yes, I am now addicted to all the Tumbling goodness.  As a result, I come across some very ineteresting posts. One  suggested that a person stop using the word “transparent” because it had the word “trans” in it and was offensive to Trans people (as in Transgendered or Transsexual).

Lesson of the Day? I accept such challenges and raise your absurd request to absurd levels of offensiveness.

In response, I wrote the following. You may need a dictionary, I surely did.

Kiya was a young woman living in Transylvania. She had never come across any vampires or werewolves. She found the talk of such creatures to be boring and she transcended all of the recent books and movies on the subject. She was of the opinion that works of fiction based on transmogrification were annoying. Except for Harry Potter. There was always room for Harry Potter. Instead of reading, she found joy in the outlying countryside. She often took holidays through European countries and, today, she was riding on the Trans Siberian Railroad. It was a transcontinental railroad, and she looked forward to immersing herself in the various cultures it transversed. She liked to travel with as few modern amenities as possible. It gave her the feeling of sloughing off her current woes and slipping into a time when such things did not exist. All transgressions and worries of life were forgotten. On this note, she travelled with a simple radio; a transceiver that could both receive and transmit radio waves. It was basic and did not have any bells or whisltes. She took delight in listening in on the local radio stations as the train transected the countryside. She did not often use the radio to transmit anything, but it was good to know she had it in case of an emergency.

Along with the countryside, travelling by train had other enjoyments. There was the delicious food full of trans fats, the time echoed décor, and the interesting company. Kiya had met people from the four corners of the world, in all walks of life, and made some wonderful friends. Not everyone aboard was willing to take part in this aspect of travelling by train, however. There was a younger university student sitting to the right of Kiya who had spent the entire trip rolled up on her seat, completely transfixed with her schoolwork. Kiya glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw that the young woman was currently transcribing something about the “Trans Effect”. It looked as if it had something to do with chemistry, but Kiya could not be certain. She was just about to take another glance but her eye began to twitch. She held her hand up to her right eye and silently cursed her health. She must have louder than she thought because the student looked up briefly from her transcription with a sly smile. Kiya thought to explain, but the student went back to her work.

Since her transient ischemic attack, her eyes liked to go into involuntary twitches. It caused some confusion if it happened as she was being introduced to new people. It looked as though she were having a tic attack of some sort. One man even took it as an invitation for a sexual encounter. When Kiya refused, his behavior transitioned into hostility at a transsonic speed. She remembers the venom of his words, clearly. She was amazed that people still walked around holding such primitive beliefs and wondered if she could create some kind of transponder to warn her of these people.

Kiya sighed and then smiled. She usually met much more jovial people and she wouldn’t be on this lovely train if she hadn’t had the ministroke to begin with. Her doctor told her it was a warning that a full-fledged stroke was going to occur. He chided her for living a stressful life and convinced her that she needed to learn to take time off and destress. She took his advice and began taking these wonderful holiday trips.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by two men arguing behind her. “No, no,” began a man in a Russian accent, “If we use transdermal medication than we will forgo the risk of infection at the site.” “Oh good goods,” responded someone in an English accent, “the risk of getting an infection at the site of a transcutaneous implant is minimal and the benefits far outweigh it!” “I will not allow my patient to receive their medication this way, their immune system is already weakened and any risk could be deadly.” The next man scoffed and continued the verbal transfer of disagreement. It was painfully transparent that the Englishman thought his knowledge superior to the Russian man’s. Kiya figured that they must be doctors headed to some transcultural medical assembly by the sounds of their accents. She was thankful they both found a common language. Can you imagine a translator in the middle of that argument? She laughed and looked around at all of the passengers and began trying to determine where each person was going to or had come from.

A few rows down from her sat a man who could pass for being transient, or homeless. His beard was long, full, and unkempt. He had on several layers of clothing, most of them looking beat up and holey. His big toe stuck out from one of his shoes and the hat he wore to cover his mess of hair did not match his clothing in any way. It was neon and had a strange logo plastered across the front. He was reading a newspaper and mumbling to himself about trans regional sports. Kiya assumed he must be a drifter. By the looks of it, a transpolar one. She quickly wondered if anyone would transvalue his appearance or simply treat him as something to ignore.

The woman sitting one row closer looked as though she had just stepped off the Trans Saharan Trade Highway, her dress transposed from another time. She wore fabrics of black and shimmery golds. She had large, golden hoop earrings and was dressed in the traditional African sense. The only thing that brought her to this century was the iPhone in her hands. She transuded severe annoyance and it seemed to be aimed at whomever was sending the messages. As she burrowed her eyebrows deeper into a frown, her large jaw bones and high cheeks, matched with a liberal application of shimmery make up, almost made her look like a transvestite.

Kiya’s thoughts drifted back to her own phone. She wondered if it was wise to leave it behind. She might need it. Did Mark from accounting need her help? Would her mother be able to go two days without calling to see if she was alright? She sighed and looked out the window through the translucent, lace curtains. The transformation was amazing. Her worries melted away as she watched the scenery pass by. The argument behind her erupted again. They were now “discussing” transthoracic transplants and policy or procedures. She laid her head back on her seat rest and closed her eyes, smiling. “Oh yes,” she thought to herself, “it was goin to be a fun holiday.”

It’s that time again!

No, it’s not Tool Time. It’s sick-o time. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen.  For a limited time only (one can hope) you can have all of the symptoms and troubles of the flu. But wait! There’s more! You can also miss work, leading to a smaller paycheck because America doesn’t do paid sick days.

On top of all of this, you will have to hold out for as long as possible before going to the doctor. Why? Well, I’ll tell you. They make sure to ask if this has been going on longer than a week (as if a couple of days of misery is not enough) and that’s only if you have insurance to pay for the visit! Gee America, what a great job you’re doing.

As an added perk, you won’t be able to sleep! Nope, no sleep for you. Your heart will pound, you will pass out a few times, and your day will be spent fighting a throbbing headache. But no sleep! That would just be too gosh-darned simple.

Ah ha ha Influenza, we love you.


*This post is not trademarked in any way, shape or form. Please be sure to contact your doctor if you are experiencing flu-like symptoms. As always, we cannot be held responsible for your actions with our product. This product may cause the same exact symptoms you are already experiencing and we just can’t figure out why you’re still buying it.

Weird Rounded Rocks

It’s that time of year again. Time for the Tri-State Gas Engine and Tractor Show. This means a lot of congested traffic, strange people walking around the town, and overly expensive fair foods at the fair grounds. It also means lots of garage sales. Since Hubby and I currently do not have extra income, we decided to go for a walk and “window” shop past the garage sales.

We ended up walking about five blocks up and back, but it was hot so we were taking our time. On one of the sidewalks,  I happened to look down and found something quite strange: a cone-shaped rock. It’s very polished and quite odd. The weirder thing is that this is the second one I have found like this in about 7 years.

I pocketed the rock and kept walking, but when we got home, I ran to my bedroom. I remembered putting the other rock in a keepsake box but was unsure if it was still there. Fortunately, it was. It is a little larger than the rock I found, but the same cone shape. Weird.

Here are some fascinating pictures. If anyone has any ideas about what these rocks could be, please let me know! Hubby thinks they might be used with some sort of polishing machine, but I’m not sure. There are no holes nor any marks showing where they might be held by a machine. Any ideas?

A picture of my two cone-shaped rocks

Strangely Rounded Rocks

A picture of my cone-shaped rocks next to a US quarter for scale.

Rocks with US Quarter

A picture of the rounded bottoms of my cone-shaped rocks

The bottom showing on the right hand rock.


My ideas are running scarce for this one. Maybe they were from a large bird or turtle who used them to aid in digestion. They could be from some sort of polishing or grinding mechanism used by people. Maybe they were once ordinary rocks, but got caught in some type of machinery (like a street cleaner) and were ground down to this shape until they fell off? I have no idea.

Lessons in Driving

I’ll admit it, I’m not the best driver. I learned later in life and I’ve had my fair share of close calls. I was thinking about this while trying to fall asleep, last night, and I wanted to share it. Why? Just because.

1. First of all, I didn’t learn to drive until I was in my mid to late twenties. Why? Because I used to live in a larger town with an excellent transportation system. Owning a car and paying for car insurance was an unnecessary hassle. Besides which, during my teens and early twenties, I was undergoing quite the anxiety problem. I simply could not bring myself to get behind the wheel of a car.

A clipart picture of a city bus

City Bus


2.  Before all of this, however, I didn’t mind so much. When I was 8 or 9, I used to take the blue Topaz for a ride around the cul-de-sac of the neighborhood we lived in. It wasn’t a fast ride because I really couldn’t reach the pedals, so I pretty much coasted through the whole thing. I never remember getting caught, but I”m sure the neighbors noticed at some point. I forget why I stopped doing it.

3. The first car I ever owned and bought was a beat up Ford Taurus. I bought it off my brother who was going to sell it to a scrap yard because he had been T-Boned in it.  I bought it, fixed the door, and had a light blue car with a dark green door. At least I never lost it in a parking lot.

4. I did however run over a median in it. Not exactly a median, but a cement divider between two parking lots. The divider was the same color as both parking lots (not painted yellow) and it scraped out the bottom of the car.  It ran for another three days before finally dying. It was fun while it lasted.

A clipart picture of a beat up car

I can’t take anymore!

5.This story is something that certain people find amusement in reminding me of, even years since. It is very annoying as *everyone* has done something with a vehicle that is infamous. ( Like backing into someone else’s car in your own driveway.)

6. It took me a while to figure out that when you are at a two-way stop, the other person has the right of way if you are turning left – even if you got there first. Now, I yell at other people who don’t know this one.

7. I have road .. well, not exactly rage. I like to make observations about the other person’s driving skills, is all. I might pepper my comments with bold words, but I just do it to prevent road rage. It’s worked so far.

A comic showing a snail blazing past a turtle

John Bell’s Road Rage

8. My husband’s driving .. well.. drives me crazy. He is very cautious and often goes below the speed limit.  He likes to wait (and wait and wait) when making left hand turns into traffic. It has been the basis for several “discussions” in the car.

9. I am very selfish in the car and must listen to the music of my choice. It just drives me nuts to be contained in a metal box while having to listen to bad music. It almost makes me claustrophobic.

10. Finally, I don’t like hills anymore. I used to love going down those tummy tickler hills. Now, however, it is too much for me. I’d rather have a non-grumpy tummy than a cheap thrill.

That’s it. Some useless information about my car history, likes, and dislikes. Nothing special to see, keep moving.

Useless Information

0: Height
– I am 5’6″ and three quarters! That’s closer to 5’7″, so for sake of BMI (evil thing) I tell people I”m 5’7″.

1: Virgin?
– I’m over 30 so I should hope not.

2: Shoe size
– I honestly do not know. I am a horrible female and hate to buy shoes.

3: Do you smoke?
– I never have and I hope never to try it.

4: Do you drink?
– As much as my husband teases me about being an alcoholic, I rarely drink. It’s just, when I do, I get very toasty 😉

5: Do you take drugs?
– Illicit drugs? No, I do not abuse drugs. Unless chocolate is a drug, then yes.

6: Age you get mistaken for
– I am told that I look younger than I am, though I don’t know by how much. If I ever put make up on again (that stuff is awful), I might look even younger.

7: Have tattoos?
– No, but I’ve been thinking of getting one. Hubby *hates* them, but I’m keeping my eyes open for a tastefully done tat.

8: Want any tattoos?
– Apparently, I do not read things through fully before starting them. This would explain why I tend to get frustrated half way through a project before breaking down and actually reading the directions.

9: Got any piercings?
– I used to but I have a weird healing factor. I swear. I should have a ton of scars that I do not. Because of this, my ears will heal shut around the stud while I sleep the night after getting them pierced. I’ve tried three times with different sized studs made out of different metals: no luck. But ow, no fun pulling them out. I had scar tissue scattered throughout my ear lobes, but they have healed as well.

10: Want any piercings?
– If I cut my hair super short, I’d want to get my ears pierced. That wouldn’t work, but I would *want* it to. Long hair + ears pierced = many tangled owies.

11: Best friend?
– Chocolate. It is always there when you need it, it never talks back, and it makes you feel so good 🙂 This is also true for crochet.

12: Relationship status
– I am married to someone just as stubborn and crazy as I am.

13: Biggest turn ons
– Humor, intelligence, compassion. You know, all that good human stuff.

14: Biggest turn offs
– Ego, vanity, opinions that are based off of the general consensus instead of being developed through thoughtful research and deliberation.

15: Favorite movie
– I am a sucker for Jane Austen movies: Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Persuasion. However, I also like good, old-fashioned blood and gore: Die Hard series, Batman: The Dark Knight, and Army of Darkness. Then again, I also love some gore-less suspense: Hitchcock.

16: I’ll love you if
– You give me chocolate. I don’t mean that nasty, brown colored wax that they try to pass off for chocolate. I’m looking at you, Palmer Company! I want the good stuff.

17: Someone you miss
– Every cat that has passed, family members that have gone, pieces of me that have died away.

18: Most traumatic experience
– I will most definitely *not* be talking about that here.  On a lighter scale, I recently got my finger caught while trying to unfold a step ladder. What? It hurt.

19: A fact about your personality
– I guess that depends on your definition of “fact”. What some consider to be a facet of my personality, I may completely see as a projection of their own personality. I am stubborn and overly analytical. I think that’s something that cannot be reputed.

20: What I hate most about myself
– “Hate” is a very strong word. It’s one I work hard not to use, let alone towards myself. There are aspects about myself I don’t like: I’m out of shape, I’m more lazy than I would like, and I have a tendency to be anti-social (I’m using this word right, trust me). Despite all of that, this pesky chocolate addiction seems to be the most troublesome. Did someone mention chocolate?

21: What I love most about myself
– I love to learn and do new things. I like to help others. I have a darker sense of humor that most people find disturbing.

22: What I want to be when I get older
– Rich. Seriously, they say money doesn’t solve everything, but I’m sure it would solve a lot of my current problems.

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)
– My brother and I get along alright.

24: My relationship with my parent(s)
– My mother and I get along alright.

25: My idea of a perfect date
– Good food, good atmosphere, good company. Lots of conversation with humor, intelligent opinions, and compassion. Some type of outdoor activity. A nice end with something sweet while we stroll and talk.

26: My biggest pet peeves
– When people treat other people (or themselves) as less than human. I believe that many of our current problems could be solved if we treated eachother with dignity, respect, and compassion.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like
– Funny, long suffering, compassionate, smart, has hobbies, likes to be around people, likes to be alone, likes music, is into the arts, can appreciate history and what it teaches us.

28: A description of the person I dislike the most
– Someone who mistreats other people. Just don’t.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend
– Because I either did not want to hurt them (not a good reason, still one that my mind thinks is ok) or because I was too damn lazy to explain everything so I just didn’t.

30: What I hate the most about work/school
– I do not like the status quo and the tendency to box everyone into quantifiable data. Seriously, let everyone learn in their own way. Stop discarding employees like they are replaceable commodities. Learn what each individual has to offer and use it. We all have good and bad qualities, it’s time we all learned to use both.

31: What your last text message says
– I can’t remember. I don’t have a cell phone. *gasp* I used to but I could no longer justify paying that ghastly amount each month so Hubby and I downgraded to just one cellphone. I haven’t looked back.

32: What words upset me the most
– Ones filled with the intent of hate, humiliation, and purposeful distortion of facts to puff up the speaker’s pride.

33: What words make me feel the best about myself
– About myself? When my husband tells me something positive about myself or when he says he is happy. What words do I like to hear the most, though? The words that are meant to encourage other people.

34: What I find attractive in women
– The same thing I find attractive in men. This may surprise some people, but I could give a rat’s ass what’s between someone’s legs. If they are smart, caring, and funny – I want to be around them.

35: What I find attractive in men
– I am not going to repeat myself. I don’t have the patience for that.

36: Where I would like to live
– In a log cabin that is nestled between a huge lake and a large mountain. Sprinkle in some evergreen/fir trees, lovely nature sounds, and a canoe – I’m set.

37: One of my insecurities
– I obviously have many or I wouldn’t eat so much dammed chocolate.

38: My childhood career choice
– I wanted to be a ballerina (of course, hello) or a veterinarian. I volunteered at a local vet’s office, but couldn’t handle watching the puppies die of parvo. Nasty illness.

39: My favorite ice cream flavor
– If you don’t know the answer to this after reading this much, you need to practice comprehensive reading more often.

40: Who I wish I could be
– I’m still learning to accept who I am, I don’t have time to wish to be someone else.

41: Where I want to be right now
– In a super comfy bed with a ton of pillows and blankets. Add Jane Austen movies, purring cats, and tons of ice cream – mmm..

42: The last thing I ate
– A cold meat sandwich and ONE dorito chip. I know, I’m allergic, I shouldn’t.. my cheeks and lips will swell up.. but mmm, so good!

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately
– I’m not one of those people that gets hung up on sex image. Seriously. I find it annoying.

44: A random fact about anything
– The word “anything” was from before 900; in Middle English, it was known as ani thing or eni thing. In Old English, it was known as ǣnig thing.

45. Selfie
– I don’t do selfies. You can thank me later.


My skills of conversing with others has always been somewhat challenged. When I was younger, I was withdrawn and shy to the point of not even wanting to look people in the eye. It was a severe handicap, one that I have slowly overcome over the years.

On top of this, I’ve become more of a skeptic as the years have passed. This combination has made me an outspoken person with an odd idea of what things should be talked about. It’s almost as hazardous as my husband’s tendency to spout out snarky puns that he thinks are funny. Almost.

A great example would be my trip to my mother’s bank this week. Mom had to have outpatient surgery this week and I volunteered to take care of her while she recovered at home.  I did her housework, helped her care for her drainage thing-a-ma-jig, and fed us. I also ran some errands for her that were, oddly enough, scheduled the day of her surgery. No big deal, I was happy to help and get out of the house.

One of these errands involved going to the bank. Not my bank, but my mother’s bank. I had never, ever, been to this bank before so the tellers didn’t know me at all. I was also dressed very casually because of running errands in the heat (read that as I was wearing capri jeans, a large t-shirt, and sandals). This bank is more upscale and most people going in and out were dressed for business.


As soon as I walked through the glass doors, all of the tellers got on tip toe to watch me walk across the bank lobby. You see, their station is surrounded by high walls, so they couldn’t see over it too well. I started the transaction giggling and told them how funny they all looked trying to peer over the wall at me as I walked in.

The teller bristled. “Well, we just weren’t sure who you were.” Her lips persed shut as she clickity clacked on her computer. I guess I looked more menacing than I had realized. I tried to break up the tension with a comical observation. “You just all look like little meerkats sticking your heads up like that.” Nadda. She handed me my stuff and ended the transaction with, “Well we do have a job to do.” I guess having a sense of humor is not apart of that job.


And most interactions are pretty much like that. I make an oddball observation that I think is funny (not that I think I’m being funny, but rather, the thing I”m talking about is funny). People misunderstand and become defensive. I try a little humor to break the tension. They want to stab me.

I guess this is how Hubby feels when he makes a “funny” observation and I get offended. I guess I should work on that one.