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All You Need In a Woman, I Have

March 9th, 2007

“I have a terrible memory; I never forget a thing.”
— Edith Konecky, writer

Dear Doctor I Fired Yesterday,
You were a lousy doctor, that’s why I fired you. In case you were wondering. And no, you can’t fire me, or quit, because I fired you first. Nyah-nyah.

And sorry I couldn’t remember exactly how many surgeries and biopsies I’ve had and the exact dates. It’s been a complicated life, thus far. Don’t you have it in my chart? Also, I have my children’s health stuff to keep track of. And my husband’s dental appointments. And his hockey schedule. And all of the parent meetings at school. So sorry I didn’t fill out your little pink sheet and instead told the receptionist: “No changes.”

I know this stressed you out, having to look back at the old pink sheets in my chart, which weren’t filled out either. At that point you told me, “I had to look through four pink sheets before I finally got to your information! Maybe if you would fill out the sheets you would be able to remember your surgeries and procedures!”

To which I responded: “How would my writing down what I do remember help me remember what I do not remember?”

Well, you did not have an answer for that and I would like to apologize for confusing you. Also, maybe your husband has a flexible schedule, but mine does not. Work and all. So we can have medical benefits for our family and all. So when you said, “You act like it’s an inconvenience, coming into the office.” It’s not that — I do like to get stuff figured out. I take healthcare seriously. It’s just that I drop the kids off a little before 9, then I pick one of them up a little before noon, and the other one I pick up at 3, so when your office tells me the only appointment you have is not only a month (or two or three) out, but that the only times available are 8:30 a.m. or 2:40 p.m. — that inconveniences me. You’re right.

Also, when we were talking about a possible minor surgical procedure that I may need (I hope not, but it might be necessary), I did not care for it when you said, “Women who fail at this procedure…” (Not, “When the procedure doesn’t work…” but “Women who fail…”) Well, I can feel like a failure all by myself, thanks. I don’t need help with that one.

I hope your other patients don’t cause as much trouble for you as I did.


Usually I don’t reprint any of the junk mail I receive, but we have a winner. All you need in a blogger, I, Wacky Mommy, happen to have:

“Hello, gentleman

It’s great you are reading my letter! Because I wanted you to read it! I want to find a second half in this world and if you want the same, we can learn each other better and build wonderful relationships, can’t we?

All you need in a woman, I have. I am pretty, smart, I like to make house cozy and comfortable, I like cooking. You can ask me why I am still single then? I can say that men in our country don’t value women! Do you want to know me better? Find me
here (blah blah blah)

Waiting for your reply

Olechka, you’re not going to be waiting long is my guess.

I, too, like to make house cozy and comfortable! But what I like even better than that is drinking a cup of coffee and making a list. Here’s one I found from 1992, when I had surgery on my thyroid. You read it while I go pour myself a cuppa:


1. Sometimes they let you keep your body parts. Then you can keep them in a jar on your mantel and show them to guests.
2. Grape popsicles.
3. Everybody is nice to you because they’re worried you’ll maybe die.
4. You get to stay home and watch TV afterward.
5. Comfy hospital nighties.
6. Helpful drugs.
7. Interesting scars.
8. Jell-o.
9. You get flowers.
10. Lovely view of the hospital parking lot.

Nice list, eh? An anecdote (or “an antidote,” as a reporter I used to work with was fond of saying): After I had the surgery I was at the store, and while in line another customer looked at the gnarly scar on my throat, gasped, clutched her own throat (which I thought was a little, you know, overwrought) and asked loudly, “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK?”

Me: “Head transplant.” (I am quick like that.)
Customer, to check-out clerk, in a quiet voice: “Can they do that?”

Now for an etiquette question. From myself.

Dear Wacky Mommy:
Let’s say two of your cousins are getting married. Let’s say they live right here in town and yes, they could bother to pick up the phone and call, but they don’t. No hard feelings, we all have busy lives and yadda yadda, this is Portland, the Rudest City in America.

Let’s say your mother gets an invite to the joint wedding shower your auntie (mother’s sister) is throwing for them, and your sister gets an invite, and your dog (were he alive and if he had opposable thumbs to open his own mail) would probably get an invite — but you do not. Because your auntie hates you. Also, she has been known to send your mail to someone else who shares your last name but who, in fact, you are not married to. They live in the same town, but not at your home. You don’t even know this person. But in the past, they have been kind enough to phone you and ask, are you you, (Yes, I am, and all you need in a woman, I have) and what is your address? So they can forward your mail.

From your aunt. Who hates you. (And who, in all honesty, you do not care for so much.)

Perhaps this is what happened this time, as well.

But you do not hate your cousins. (Who are not her children, by the by, they belong to your uncle. Your mother’s brother. Sorry, is this getting confusing?) Let’s say your husband has told you NO MORE SPENDING MONEY ON WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS! WE GO TO TOO MANY! NO MORE FLOWERS! NO MORE CHEESE PLATTERS! AND BABY PRESENTS! ALL OF THESE BABIES DO NOT NEED GIFTS. DAMN CAN WE PLEASE TRY TO SAVE SOME MONEY, WOMAN? WE’RE SUPPOSEDLY MOVING AND BUYING A NEW HOUSE.

(Only, let’s say he didn’t really yell it, that’s just for dramatic effect.) What do you do?


Dear WM,
What I would do is write out pretty wedding cards to both of them — “Here’s to many years of happiness ahead” — sign them, forget the checks, and mail them off.

Because not to be rude or anything — but you weren’t invited. So that’s good enough, mama.


Dear Breadmaker,
Ha! Ha! Ha! I have a new breadmaker. His name is Hockey God. Here is our new favorite bread recipe and no, the middle third of it is not yanked out by the paddle after it’s done baking.

Cuz it’s baked in loaf pans. In the oven. Ha!



1 tablespoon yeast
2 cups warm water
1/4 cup softened butter
1/8 cup molasses
1/4 cup honey
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups white flour

Dissolve yeast in water. Combine butter, molasses, honey and salt. Mix well. Add yeast mixture. Gradually add flour. Turn onto floured surface and knead until smooth. Place in greased bowl and let rise until double. Punch down. Let dough rest a few minutes. Shape into two greased bread pans. Let rise about one hour.

Bake at 375 degrees for 35-40 minutes.


  1. Himself says

    You know what I always say.

    Fuck ’em.

    March 9th, 2007 | #

  2. WackyMommy says

    Oh, that’s sweet. You kiss your children with that mouth?

    March 9th, 2007 | #

  3. wacky cousin says

    wow. i wish i had someone to bake my bread.

    March 9th, 2007 | #

  4. WackyMommy says

    Yes, it is nice.

    March 9th, 2007 | #

  5. Pink-Haired Housewife says

    I’d probably make the cards myself. No. No time. I’d buy cards homemade by someone else. I’d write all the usual “best wishes” nonsense then I’d white-out the (who actually made this card) info on the back and I’d write “Made With Love by…” and my name. Homemade equals beautiful and thoughtful gift. Into the envelope. Sealed with the tongue of a drunken sailor. Stamp. Mailbox. Finito. $5. Tops. Unless you’re out of white-out.

    March 9th, 2007 | #

  6. edj says

    I like your surgery list. That’s nice.
    Are your cousins marrying each other? This was confusing to me. Isn’t that illegal in America? Here, it’s the norm. It’s the marriage you have to get out of the way so that you can get a divorce and then, hopefully, marry someone you actually want to marry. Failing that, marry a second cousin or at least a member of the same tribe. Make your family happy!
    So you can see why the State that has the most Mauritanians in it is Kentucky!

    March 11th, 2007 | #

  7. WackyMommy says

    Edj, thank you and you’re funny. Is it hot right now in your part of Africa? Does a grape popsicle sound good? It is overcast here, raining off and on, but almost balmy.

    It’s two of my cousins who no are not marrying each other. Two weddings, two different states, four people total. And once the cards arrived, without checks, voila! I received a call saying it was all a big mistake — they mailed my invite to…

    The Wrong Address.

    Ya, you betcha.

    March 11th, 2007 | #

  8. Zipdodah says

    Family weddings (and functions) are funerals in disguise.

    March 12th, 2007 | #

  9. WackyMommy says

    Zip, I’m thinking you’re right.

    March 12th, 2007 | #

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