Adrift in the Sea of Emotions

Stress. The Lounge Chair Wars Begin!

Post in progress.

Well, the Hilton Resort at Cabo San Lucas has fired the first shot. He has emailed all guests for the week between Christmas and New Years with the latest rules on lounge chair use. And they’re tough. Since I have been known to embellish, I must mention that I am not making this up. I will provide the rules as a link in the actual post so that you can see how stress and despair can infiltrate the most protected asylums of peace.

Stress. Anxiety. Stress Management. Psychology. Therapy Online. Anxiety Management. Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Oh, what More >

Stress. Why You Shouldn’t Snore on Airplanes

Stress Management, Why You Shouldn’t Snore on Airplanes

Dateline: Thirty-Two Thousand Feet Over Death Valley, California. All sorts of prospectors met their fate in the desert below.

STRESS. STRESS MANAGEMENT. ANXIETY. ON LINE PSYCHOLOGIST. Set up: The plane wasn’t even loaded when the guy in the seat behind me flopped his head back, dropped open his jaw, and launched a snoring jag that had wild life enthusiasts in the group knocking people out of the aisles to retrieve cameras from overhead bins.

Good grief. Almost four hours of this farm behavior? I huff. I point out how unhappy I am to my husband who More >

Why Do You Make Me Feel Like This? “The Man Who Couldn’t Ask His Wife a Question” Incident

Why Do You Make Me Feel Like This? “The Man Who Couldn’t Ask His Wife a Question” Incident Dateline: Las Vegas Branch Office at the Bellagio Race and Sports Book. This is the kind of place where when I bobbed my cargo-shorted person into the restaurant, the host asked if I preferred an allergy menu, a non-gluten menu, a vegetarian menu, or, in case I was one of those crass Texas types, a regular menu? They make a dandy hamburger, but I can’t remember what they called it.

First a little booster shot of the Mysteryshrink pledge. Repeat after me, I, More >

MysteryShrink BANNED IN VEGAS!

MYSTERYSHRINK BANNED IN VEGAS!

Dateline: Las Vegas Branch Office in the Paris Hotel Race and Sports Book.

You’ve heard about the awesome high rollers banned in Las Vegas? The wise guys banned for counting cards or using some other complicated system at the Blackjack tables? The just too famous for their own good celebrities banned for their wild antics?

Well, turns out, getting banned in Vegas is not as nearly as hard as those celebrities make it sound.

In fact, with the help of my friend (Let’s call her Janie) I, too, was able to achieve “banned in Vegas” status.

Anxiety. (That word is a plant. The guy who helps me with More >

Money, the “Seven Days in Florence Incident”

A friend of mine passed away two years ago today. She was eighty-four and a millionaire many times over. Those are two important numbers. 84 years. 12,000,000 dollars.

T was my wealthy friend and because of her, I enjoyed many a treat beyond my economic reach—the use of a condominium, including endless room service, atop the classiest hotel in Dallas, charity balls to hear celebrity bands, and postcards and tales of her world travels. T knew about every culture and every religion in the world. She read extensively and had a curious mind.

But when it More >

A Website I Can Set Up Myself? I Say, “Nay, Nay”

Dateline: Threadgill’s Restaurant. Robert Earl Keen played here.

Set-up: Once more, in an attack of delusional capability, I attempted to set up a “real” website.

I realize my monkeying around messes up MysteryShrink.

Therefore:

I PLEDGE ALLIGIANCE TO THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES OF THE INTERNET . . .

AND TO THE LUNACY FOR WHICH IT CRAWLS . . .

THAT I WILL NEVER, EVER BE SEDUCED AGAIN INTO BUYING A SWIMSUIT WHILE SOBER, OR TO ATTEMPT ANOTHER FULL WEBSITE.

You know who’s really cheering? Every tech customer service worker in our great land. Oh, and the spouse. Also, I think the dogs would like me to stop More >

Planes, Trains, Flipout City

Dateline: Threadgill’s Restaurant, South Austin.

Set-up: Plane from Mexico City to DFW diverted to Houston. See Huts and Cots.

Parked on the Houston tarmac, I slip into a mini-meditation: Cool air in. Warm air out. The exact technique will be highlighted in a later post. But not here, because while the practice was somewhat successful, I can’t claim stellar results.

However, because of the mini-meditation, I resisted leaping out of my seat and informing the entire plane: “You know what the pilot is really saying, don’t you? He’s saying that you are very likely never going to see your loved ones More >