Good/Bad 2018

All over social media there are people saying that they can’t wait to see 2018 end. They say it was a horrible year and good riddance to it.

Let’s all take a breath and assess 2018. Something good had to have happened this year to each of us. In fact, I think that almost every event can be perceived in both a negative and a positive light (if you look really hard), so I’m going to attempt to find some sun amidst the darkness.

While 2018 presented challenges for me and my family this year, it also brought us our fabulous dog, Duke, whom we adopted from a local shelter. If we hadn’t gotten Duke, I wouldn’t be sitting at my laptop right now, listening to him emit sounds similar to a balloon slowly losing air. I also wouldn’t be enveloped in a cloud of gas so noxious and thick that I will have to fight my way out of it. But that’s the price we pay for having a hilarious, fun-loving, affectionate, and loyal dog. We love him to pieces and he loves us right back. We just don’t take him out in public.

Also in 2018, my commute to work got longer by 2 subway rides. This added about 20 minutes to my trip and will probably subtract years from my life. I used to take one train ride into Manhattan, but then my company moved and I could no longer walk to my office from Grand Central, at least not in a timely manner. Now, when I arrive at Grand Central, I have to elbow my way through dense crowds of people taking pictures of the astrological drawings on the ceiling, race down tunnels and stairs to the Times Square shuttle track, and push my way into a jammed subway car. When we get to the Times Square stop, I catch a train downtown to my job. The Times Square stop is like an underground carnival, where you can watch amateur musical and acrobatic performers, buy newspapers, vinyl records, and rolling papers, or join a cult. On every shuttle to or from Times Square, you will be unwillingly or unwittingly entertained. There is sometimes a man who takes up four seats with a portable keyboard and who plays songs and sings during the short ride. Other times, you get on the train and don’t see anything out of the ordinary and then the doors close and someone sitting all alone will start belting out songs at top volume when nobody expects it. This can be very jarring to your nerves, especially if you haven’t had enough coffee yet. Sometimes a dodgy group of men will appear from another car and start clicking their fingers and tapping their toes and proceed to rap a song they’re composing on the spot. The performers always request donations as the doors of the train open, but if you plant yourself by the door when you get on, you can escape before they get to you. But, despite being part of a captive audience and having to endure a longer commute, I eventually arrive at a job that I love and work with people who are really nice. And there’s free coffee. Of course, after my enjoyable day in the office, I have to repeat the above-described commute in reverse, during the afternoon rush. But—and here’s another upside—I only do this once a week because I am allowed to work from home the other four days. I left that information out until now so you could feel sorry for me, at least for a minute or two.

While the next thing happened in 2017, it affected 2018, so I’m including it: In the summer of 2017, during a party we hosted in our yard, one of our picnic tables fell through the deck. The adult table wasn’t affected, but the kids’ table hit the deck, or actually crashed through the deck onto the ground a few feet below. Only one child was sitting at the table at that time and fortunately he wasn’t hurt. He kept eating his hotdog as we hauled him up through the splintered wood. Then we moved the childrens’ table next to the adults’ table, which was on more stable decking, and continued on with the party. A year later, we finally replaced the deck. So, 2018 brought us a new deck … and no lawsuit from the child’s parents.

There were other events in 2018 that I’m still examining to find a positive side, so I understand that some things that happen can be fairly awful. But when you find yourself dwelling on the bad things that happened this year, be grateful that a flatulent dog isn’t sitting next to you making outrageously rude noises. I’ve never heard of a dog who makes noises when he passes gas. He could well be an old man in a fur coat.

My wish for 2019 is that the year brings upsides that outweigh the downsides. That’s all I want … and Beano for our dog.

 

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You Have to Crawl Before You Iron

Many years ago, my sister said that she is afraid of ironing because she always winds up with her head under the ironing board, afraid that the iron will fall off the board and onto her face, thus scarring her for life.

When she told me about her unusual fear, I laughed. And from that moment on, every time I ironed, I found myself crawling around on the floor under the ironing board, also afraid that the iron, which was always precariously balanced on the edge of the board, would fall on my face, thus scarring me for life.

I don’t know why she and I always end up on the floor under the ironing board, but we do. Sometimes I’m under there picking up something silky that slipped off the board. Sometimes I’m wiping up water that leaked out of the iron onto the floor. Other times, I’m shoving the dog out from under the ironing board before he jostles the iron off the board and onto his face … thus, scarring him for life.

This doesn’t keep me from ironing, though. I love to iron. Give me a pile of wrinkled clothes, a can of spray starch, and a movie on TV, and I’m happy. I get great satisfaction from the piles of starched and folded clothes that I transformed from unwearable to glorious. Ironing also calms me.

I have a friend who gets the same therapeutic benefits from prepping food. “I just love chopping, grating, mincing, slicing, dicing, and muddling,” she told me. She likes having little bowls and ramekins filled with all of her prepared ingredients before she begins cooking. I guess I can see how the monotony of chopping, grating, mincing, slicing, dicing, and muddling could be a soothing activity but it doesn’t appeal to me. That’s probably because after doing all of that mindless work, I’d have to actually cook.

I can cook, and I do cook, but I don’t enjoy it. It’s probably because my mother spent an enormous amount of time preparing meals that were complicated, beautiful, and delicious. I either don’t think I can live up to her abilities, or I’m lazy. It’s probably the latter. I could live on meat and vegetable pizza for the rest of my life. It’s the perfect food, containing all of the food groups. No additional salad required.

My chopping, grating, mincing, slicing, dicing, and muddling friend doesn’t understand this at all. But she’s Italian. ‘Nuff said.

I’m part Irish and was probably a washer woman in a past life, so that might explain my love of ironing. But I could also have been a dog, considering how much time I spend crawling around on the floor. I was probably in the same pack as my sister.

Yes, the word “the” is missing from before “cover” in this meme, but I hope you can overlook that and enjoy the message.

 

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? Does Anybody Really Care?

If it weren’t for my pill organizer, I wouldn’t have any idea what day it is.

My company’s office has been closed since December 23, but we’re still supposed to put in two days of work from home before the office opens again on January 2. Sixteen hours of work should, in theory, be easy to fulfill in ten days.

However, the days have sped by in a flurry of holiday activity and now that things have calmed down, I can’t seem to get out of my pajamas until the sun sets.

Luckily for me, I don’t have to get dressed in order to work from home … or go to Walmart, where my satin, leopard-print ensemble fits right in.

 

(Credit to Chicago for the title of this post.)

A Call From Beyond … And Large Butts

First thought January 1, 2014:

Whenever I call friends and family on the West Coast to wish them a Happy New Year, I tell them I’m calling from the future. It never gets old.

Last thought (that I remember) on December 31, 2013:

WordPress sends all of its bloggers a year-end report, telling the bloggers the number of people who viewed their posts, which posts were the favorites, etc.

Under the category, “What search terms were used to find your blog?” here were the top keywords used: patsy porco blog, patsy porco, and large butts.

Organic Growth

WordPress just awarded me a virtual trophy for my virtual trophy case. The trophy case exists at WordPress offices, which are virtually located somewhere in cyberspace (“cyber” meaning “virtual”).

My trophy was for getting 50 people to follow my blog (I am extremely grateful to all of my blog subscribers. Thank you!). It  took me four years, and my blog’s growth was mostly organic.

Some people get 50 followers on their fourth day. But, they are either famous, have a lot of relatives, or get “Freshly Pressed” by WordPress. Blog posts that are Freshly Pressed are featured by WordPress on their Freshly Pressed page. WordPress bloggers and readers flock to this page, to find good-quality writing on numerous topics. Being Freshly Pressed is a sure-fire way to attract readers. Otherwise, your blog is just one of trillions of blogs, all badly key-worded,* and destined for the slush pile of blogs sitting on a virtual desk somewhere.

As I said earlier, my blog’s growth has been mostly organic, which means “grown with products only found in nature” — which, in my case means “via word of mouth, or accidental.” Like organic gardening, you have to have faith that your garden (blog) won’t be eaten by slugs (ignored) and will eventually produce an edible (wildly popular) commodity. The only fertilizer you can use is natural. I am full of natural fertilizer and I sprinkle it freely on my posts, so that isn’t the problem.

Time is the problem. It takes too long to grow things organically. I’m about ready to haul out the big guns: chemicals (curse/sex words). I’m pretty sure that curses and sex words are looked up more often than “humorous essay about my dog.” Using profane keywords should get me more readers, but is it worth cheapening my blog, just to get people to read my posts?

Hmmmm. I don’t ******* know. Maybe, just once.

*People who are looking for something specific online will Google specific keywords (i.e., chicken recipes; how to build a brick wall; pictures of hot women/guys; etc.) So, it’s very important to use commonly searched words in your post or in your tags (words from your post that you choose to label your post with). It’s not an exact science. Thousands of people use the same word combinations, so, if you don’t use the right keywords or keyword combinations, and if you’re writing about a topic that many others are writing about, when someone searches for your topic, your blog may appear as entry 10,000 in a keyword search, on page 928. People pay a lot of money to come up with keywords and keyword phrases that will get them to the first or second spot on the first page of a search. Most people never click to the second page (let alone page 928) when searching for information. Keywords matter, sometimes more than content.