A Book Review

I love curling up with a good book and non-fiction is my favorite genre, motivational/inspirational books topping the list of fun reads for me. (Blast from the past book story here.) Imagine, then, the thrill it was for me to receive a surprise package on my doorstep containing one.  There was no note, and after I read the title, GET YOUR SH*T TOGETHER by Sarah Knight, I understood why nobody wanted to take credit for the gift.  It seemed like kind of an insult, but I read it anyway.

Well A BIG THANK YOU to my mysterious benefactor!  I LOVED this read so much that I actually gifted several key people in my life (who shall remain nameless) with copies of their own.  Who knows?  Maybe I  even sent one to the same person who sent me mine.

Aside from the potty words which I believe were inserted to appeal to a generation far younger than mine, the book held a lot of brilliant advice.  I highly recommend it; just change the word "sh*t" to "act" if profanity offends you.  Personally, it doesn't impact me at all.  I guess I was probably inoculated against it in my childhood.

My father, whom I have already mentioned was an Olympic Gold Medalist in Napping (tribute to Dad is here), was also award winning in the area of cursing.  That man sprinkled swear words over each sentence like a chef seasons his signature dish.  Sh*t and damn were two of his favorite trilogy, Hell being the third.  So, in a way, I found reading this book strangely comforting.  That probably is a discussion best had with a therapist...  

One of the ideas that the author threw out there was to pitch your "to-do list"  and she suggested instead to replace it with a MUST DO list.  Yesterday I did just that.  I carefully considered at length what was most important for me to accomplish during my day.  My list consisted of three items.  Three.  I was setting myself up for success, that seems clear. What an ugly shock when at    the end of the day, not one had actually gotten completed -- and one entry was "Take a Vitamin."  Seriously, that one seemed like a slam dunk when I wrote it.

If you enjoy the book as much as I did, YOU ARE A BADASS by Jen Sincere is another fun read. "Badass" is mild in the world of the profane and I'm not even sure it qualifies.   THE LIFE CHANGING MAGIC OF NOT GIVING A  F*CK is another.

My father never, ever used the F word.  Even he had his standards.  

The Support Desk

The following is an actual response I received from the Support Desk of TikTok yesterday. I emailed them that when I created my account, I accidentally clicked 2019 as my birth year.  Ever since my oldest grandson casually mentioned to me that I was born "in the last century," I'm not crazy about revealing my actual year of birth.  And why it would matter when I only want to watch one-minute cleaning videos, I cannot fathom.

Your TikTok Support Inquiry: Case ID [6195685]

Inbox

x

Vinxern (Support) contactus01@bytedance.com via zendesk.com	Thu, Jul 9, 11:08 PM (12 hours ago)
to me

##- Please type your reply above this line -##

Hi,
Thank you for contacting us, and sorry for the inconvenience you 

are experiencing.

In order to help us verify and review your account, please provide 

a form of identification that includes your name, age, and photo 

(such as a driver's license or passport). You may also provide a 

school identification.

Please cover any other personal information besides name, age, 

and photo. Identification will be used to verify your age.

TikTok Support Team

My Response to their response:

If you just look at my neck, you can see I’m well over 21. Necks are a dead give away.  I write a humor blog:
http://www.stillswimmingupstream.com/ and I’m fairly jazzed that I was cleverly able to supply you with this link — which shows you how old I really am because I’m virtually certain the grandson I'm holding in this picture could easily do that.  HE probably could navigate your website, too. 

I know I’m not your target audience.  Frankly you’re not my target destination either; I prefer whiling away my free time scrolling through Pinterest, pinning vegan ice cream recipes that I’m never going to make.  Here’s the thing though, my daughter - the one who got married on Zoom not the one who has a house full of children (and for ID purposes, she, too, is also far older than someone born in 2019) - texted me seven videos of a gal giving one-minute cleaning tips and I wanted to see them. I NEEDED to see them. Trust me on this.  She did not think I could do that without an account. Turns out I can’t to it WITH an account either. 

Enjoying your app is not paramount to my happiness (and I don’t perceive myself shooting crazy videos with my pet hermit crabs, but stranger things have happened) still, you need to know that it’s impossible for actual adult adults to navigate your site, if my experience is the norm. All I saw was a dog video (even tho I specifically did not mark pets as an area of interest), four boys singing “Cuma Lotta Vista” (actually a song I knew from Girl Scout camp in the former century) and a black screen that said I’d "come to the end of my content." I could not use the links my daughter texted - each time it went to the dog until it eventually arrived at the black screen.  Sometimes I found a small list of videos I could access but they were mainly videos of cats. My family sends plenty of videos of cats I actually know so I'm not that interested in feline antics of the cat unknown.  No hard feelings, Felix.

I fiddled around on your site way longer than I should have.  Again, it seems impossible for the elderly (and yes, that is an offensive term) to navigate your website. Maybe, just maybe, that’s a good thing.

Enjoy your weekend, kids.

You need a copy of my passport or driver's license?  I think not, my friends.  My husband said that TikTok originates in China and to delete this account.  He told me to take cleaning advice from my friend Ila.  

I did that. Ila's advice was to get a cleaning lady.  

I love my life.  

My Bathroom Walls

                                     

Today I smelled pee when I walked into our guest bathroom.  I guess the technical term is "urine" but I always think of horses when I hear that word. Who knows why?  Oh, I do because when I was 19, I worked in a pharmacy and the drug Premarin is made of pregnant mare's urine.  Weird the things you remember, right?

And now, back to the bathroom.  I found a diaper in the trash and so I emptied that and washed out the wastebasket.  But, even then, there was an odor in the room that I found less than appealing.  Granted, we are not receiving visitors during this season of Covid19, but still a stinky room is a stinky room.  

I cleaned out the toilet bowl, washed the ceramic exterior and, just for good measure, I also washed off the floor.  I was pretty cocky about my great cleaning skills and my wise use of my time ~ after all, I could have been indulging in my secret obsession: Dragon City (my video game of choice that's rated for ages 4+).  Then I looked up at our wall. Sometimes, when the sun is shining just right, you see things in your house that you were never meant to see.  This was one of those times.

The entire purple wall, up higher than my waist, was shimmery with little dried golden droplets. I washed them off immediately which left behind a gajillion little white spots.  Apparently pee is a potent color remover.  [Note to self, if I ever run out of nail polish remover and I'm in a real pinch for time ...]

My first impulse is to repaint the wall but two-thirds of my grandsons (whom I am finding guilty as being the culprits without benefit of a trial) have yet to obtain double digit age status, so, as they say, "What's the point?"