A couple of years ago I worked for a wonderful Doctor. Not that the one I wok for now is bad, but there was something special about Dr. Owen. He was 76 years old, a cardiologist, antique book collector, and one of the finest men I have ever known. I had never worked for a doctor before, so he taught me the best way to take blood pressure and pulse. There were constant questions coming in from patients and he would answer them in his own time.

Everything he did was in his own time. He took as long as he wanted with patients. Sometimes he would be in the room for 2 hours, yet the patients that were waiting never complained. Even when he would get an emergency at the hospital and we would have to reschedule, the patients never minded. They would say, “It’s ok, I would want the same thing if it was me in the hospital.”

I could talk to him about absolutely anything. And after he became my doctor I did. Nothing ever surprised him, and he always had the right answer. He was one of those people that could look at a person and diagnose problems, before they even said anything. He found my uncle’s kidney cancer because something looked unusual on a chest xray.

He saved his life.
He saved my Dad's life when he had a heart attack.
He saved my grandfather's life 20 years ago, but that didn't last.
He saved my life on many many occasions, but not medically.

During one of our conversations he looked at me and said “You’re a very compulsive person aren’t you Amy?”

I had never heard something like that before, so I asked “Do I have OCD?”

He said, “No, you’re not obsessive. And if it interfered with your life and happiness, that would make it a problem. But I don’t think it does. I think you are just compulsive.”

He, as always, was absolutely right.

As I cleaned the glass and background of my copy machine today I heard his voice in my head. And as I made blank copies to straighten out some papers, I laughed to myself. Definitely compulsive.

My obsession with vampires has come full circle.

It started when I was about 10 and read Anne Rice for the first time. Since then I’ve read and watched anything and everything I could get my hands on about them. The list is enormous and includes (cringe) comic books, Bufy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, even the Blade trilogy and the newest… Twilight.

I just bought the second book “New Moon” yesterday. Since the first book had the first chapter of the second I started out on page 30. I tried to read at lunch yesterday, but I kept getting interrupted. So, when I went home I opened it up and started reading.

What happened next probably happens to a lot of women, although with children instead of their boyfriend. I would get maybe a page of reading in before someone is poking me.

“Nerd, why are you reading that?”

“Because I enjoy it”

“Bookworm”

I’d go back to reading. Get maybe another page.

“When I was 3 I read Steven King during church. It was cool, everyone was listening to the preacher and I was getting my ass scared off. I‘ve read everything he ever wrote. He said that book sucks”

“hmm”

I stick my nose back in the book. The phone rings.

“Yeah Karma’s mad at me, ‘cause I listened to her records… yeah, totally mad… ha ha April Fool’s… Yeah we’ll come by in about a half an hour.”

“You got a half hour nerd”

Since there’s no way I can get into my book, I sigh and continue reading, considering going into my room where I can read in peace. However my sigh meant I’d given up. And 20 minutes later I was informed I needed to go visit My Cow.

We took a walk over there and hung out for a bit. But I kept thinking about what I was reading and was trying to plot my escape. I found my opportunity and took it. Cow is playing 2 shows tonight and needed an audience.

“Here, take him and I can go read my book”

I escaped back to my apartment and finally got to get into my new book.

And then he breaks up with her, leaving her crying in the woods?

At this point I’m mad at twilight, but of course that won’t last very long. I’m also looking forward to doing laundry (huh?) so that I can actually read without interruptions.

Cheese and rice!

What’s a nerd to do?

I went to see the Reverend Horton Heat last night at the Tower Theatre. I love Rockabilly music. I actually learned to Swing Dance a few years back (when that was all the rage.) Robin, Todd and I took a class and had a great time. Of course every time we were out and a little a lot drunk Todd and I would try to perform the “Baby Doll.” I would jump into his arms, he would swing my legs around his back, then he would grab my legs around the knees, and then swing the rest of me around and catch me in front. It looks really cool and it’s a lot of fun, however my head was literally inches from the ground. I could have knocked myself out many a time. I’m still surprised that I never got a concussion.

We had some friends in the class and that part was great. Of course there were some older people too. They didn’t really want to learn lifts. I remember one older man that would probably break in half if I jumped into his arms. There was three of us and the partner thing was always an issue. But I ended up dating our instructor. (yeesh, oh the things I would change.) The dance school offered us a class on lifts and we took it. We ended up doing a demonstration at the Tower Theatre.

We got all dressed up, and did the show. Robin and I got vintage dresses with petticoats, the guys did the fedora/trousers with suspender type thing. They couldn’t pay us, but we got all the champagne we could drink (tee hee.)

When I went to the show last night I kept remembering those times. I guess especially with the music, the greasers, and the endless Bette Paige bangs it brought all those good times back.

I was telling Dawnell and Todd (a different one) about that and the time I got to see Mike Ness at the Tower Theatre. I got to meet him backstage and he kissed me on my cheek... (sigh) The dressing rooms are tiny and we were all crammed together. It had been a whirlwind getting there on time, and seeing the show. I’m sure I probably drank a beer or two during the show, so by the time we went backstage I wasn’t feeling too well. The band had pizza (Little Ceasar’s, I think) and after I met Mike Ness, I wandered over to the pizza and the band. I must have looked peaked because they offered me some. I probably would have passed out had I not had some sustenance, so I was really grateful.

Now I have more memories to add to the tower theatre collection, the backstage Betty in me saw the tour bus last night and I inadvertently started wandering in that direction. Old habits die hard I guess. I wasn’t in any better shape last night than I was for the Mike Ness show, so I kept walking (my feet were killing me, I hadn’t eaten all night, I had a headache and I was exhausted.)

It was a sign of a good time had.