Yesterday, while speaking with my co-worker, I mentioned I had a handful of chores to do when I got home.  Suddenly it occurred to me I really don’t like the word “chores.”  Not only does it bring up memories of being ten and having to do them before going out to play; but I don’t like saying the word.  It’s not melodious, it’s not fun, it’s just a chore to say.

I tried out the word “tasks” but there are too many S’s and a K thrown in.  Doesn’t feel good on the tongue.  Hmmm.

How about “duties?”  Now that is fun to say.  It rolls around in your mouth and comes out with a little pop.  But, it still connotes drudgery and toil.  I needed something more … more … cheerful, lively even to describe the grind of household cleaning.

So, I came up with “gig.”  According to Webster it can mean a live performance, either musical, theatrical or physical.  I could make each spic and span encounter a performance.  I might just wear a tiara with my rubber gloves.

And that is now what happens in my house.  I physically make a performance out of dusting, vacuuming and scrubbing.  The husband thinks this is insane but it makes me more likely to get it done.  By the end our house is shining, the husband is happy and my tiara is just slightly askew.  If I’m lucky I get a round of applause.  (I wonder what I need to do to get a standing ovation?)

Tomorrow I have three gigs to accomplish.  Thinking of wearing some pearls with the tiara.

As many of my friends and family are aware, Hawaii is my favorite place on earth. Not that I have visited many exotic places in my life. As I look back I probably could have ventured to, say, Aruba, Tahiti, the Grand Cyclamens, etc. But, I kept going back to Hawaii … nine times in fact. I love the culture, the clothes or lack thereof, the food, the water, the sunshine, the creatures. I love the fact that upon arriving I take off my shoes and bra and never put them back on for the rest of the trip. Can you say flip flops and sarongs?

My first trip to the Islands happened the summer after my high school graduation. That trip was my present for making it through 12+ years of education. I had never flown in a plane. I had never been to somewhere with a different culture. I had never been off the West Coast. I was out of my mind with excitement.

In the ensuing years I traveled back there with family, friends, THE HUSBAND and kids. All of the trips were unique in their own way with very, very special memories. They never entailed a disaster until that one fateful trip on 2007 when three special girlfriends decided to ditch our husbands and landed on Kauai for nine beautiful sun-kissed days and nights.

Looking back I was probably as fit as I had been in 20 years. I was looking for adventure and found it, not necessarily in a good way. THE BEST FRIEND and I were bound and determined to hike several times during that trip and one of the places we researched were The Secret Tunnels. These structures were built in the past century to guide water to the sugar cane fields. They have since been abandoned. But, as the guide book says, there is one tunnel that ends up at a waterfall. Now, that’s the kind of adventure I was looking for.

THE BEST FRIEND and I packed our day packs with lunch, water bottles, a towel and swim suits, (no, it wasn’t the Miracle Suit) and went off in our rented Jeep to find our little slice of lagoon heaven. We opened the guide book and drove to the trail head where we parked. It was a smart thing to rent the Jeep as we had to drive over rutted roads and small streams.

We ditched the Jeep and started on what the guide book said would be a path. In reality it was only a suggestion of a path that quickly died out and left us with just jungle. But, the guide book gave us markers to look for and, being the adventurous girls we were, we bravely forged ahead.

A little info about this guide book. It’s called Kauai Revealed and is very comprehensive. It is written by a couple who actually live in Hawaii and they give the most honest reviews I have ever read. If a place is bad they will tell you. There is a book written for each of the islands and updated each year so you are getting the latest scoop. Since it’s blue, we just called it the blue book.

Back to the hike. We stepped on stones in creeks, plunged through bamboo thickets, swung around large trees and basically made our own trail. We were smart enough to set up small markers with rocks and twigs pointing the way we had come. We proceeded merrily on our way. THE BEST FRIEND was ahead at one point and I was bringing up the rear when I stepped in a mud puddle. Keep in mind it rains every day in Hawaii but in the spring it rains more. There were mud puddles all around us and the one I stepped in was very deep. As my hiking shoe plunged deeper, the mud was getting close to spilling over into my left shoe. Now, I don’t mind getting muddy but I didn’t want to have to hike the rest of the day with a shoe full. So, I yanked it out of the mud. Except it didn’t come out. The mud here was particularly thick and sticky and held onto my shoe with a vengeance. So much so that between the force of the mud and the force of my trying to yank it out I heard a snap. That’s not a sound you want to hear. This next part happened so fast it didn’t really register in my brain, but here is what I remember. I yanked, heard a snap, yanked some more, got my shoe out, looked down, noticed my left foot was now facing perpendicular to my leg. I guess I yelped when it snapped because THE BEST FRIEND stopped and turned around. I looked at her and said, “If you can just help me get my foot straight I can keep going.” At which point she said, “Sit down, sit down now.”

There you have it. In just a few short seconds I had not only dislocated my ankle but broken it also. I sat down as directed and that’s when it dawned on me that I was deep into Hawaiian territory, with no real trail, with a broken ankle and we were all alone. Oh, and no cell phone reception.

As I lied there, looking up into the trees, I realized something that terrified me. I was never getting out of the jungle. How could I? I couldn’t walk … no cell reception … all alone. I must have said this out loud because immediately THE BEST FRIEND said, “Oh, yes you will. I’m going to leave you as comfortable as I can and hike back out to where the phone will work.”

Now, I really don’t know how long we were hiking after leaving the car so I didn’t know how much time it would take her but we had no choice, so off she went. As she looked back at me I felt the need to reassure her I would be fine so I said, “I’ll be okay, I have the blue book.” The blue book? Did I really think having the blue book would somehow benefit me in my hour of need? Neither THE BEST FRIEND nor I ever figured out just what I was talking about.

I was stretched out on the ground, under a big tree, clutching the book, praying mightily and in pain. The throbbing sensations would ebb and flow. As I promised God everything I could think of to get me out of here, I know as sure as I’m here writing this He answered me. This came in the form of the sun. The sight I could see from my position were two large branches forming a V with the sky. When I was in the throws of the worst pain that V would cloud over and become dark with touches of sprinkles. When the pain subsided and I could catch my breath the sky in the V would break through and be blue and sunny. This was a great comfort to me as I knew God was sending that sunshine to give me hope.

Occasionally, as I went in and out of different pain thresholds I would call out, “Hellooooo.” Just hoping some other adventurous and foolish people were out looking for those blasted tunnels. But, alas, nothing, nada, not a word. I had no idea of how much time was going by but later THE BEST FRIEND told me it was probably close to 2 hours.

As time marched on the throbbing became stronger. I didn’t have the nerve to look down at my flopping foot and I remember praying harder and harder. Suddenly I heard a voice call to me and for a split second I thought maybe the Lord had decided to make an appearance. Turns out it was THE BEST FRIEND along with 5 muscular emergency medical techs come to rescue my sad self. They brought along with them a strange sort of contrivance shaped like a really big bread basket and a large wheel. Turns out they planned to hoist me in and wheel me out, over hill and dale, creek and bamboo forest. And that’s what they did. They also decided to serenade me with their rendition of “Climb Every Mountain.”

We made it to the trail head and they loaded me into the back of the Jeep. It seems we were so far in that the ambulance couldn’t make it that far. THE BEST FRIEND had to drive me out to where they waited. That was by far the worst part of the whole ordeal. The road was barely a road and we forded two different shallow streams. The relief I felt when they loaded me into the emergency vehicle was huge.

From there I went to the local hospital, got my ankle “relocated”, had surgery to fix the two fractures and spent the night. We flew home two days later and I lived to tell the tale. My lasting souvenirs from that trip are an 8 inch plate and multiple screws holding my distal tibia together along with one screw holding the tip of my fibula in place. They are still with me to this day. Not the adventure I had in mind but it does make for a good story. By the way, I never did read that book while lying flat on my back, although the EMT’s did ask us how we found ourselves on a trail that really wasn’t a trail. THE BEST FRIEND answered we were looking for the hidden tunnels described in the blue book. “Ah, the blue book”, they replied. “We’re very familiar with it. We get lots of customers that way.”

You may wonder what this picture and Quantum Computing have in common.  Well, bare with me and read on…it might, just might, become clear.

In his life-long quest for truth in the “Knowledge Bowl” of life THE HUSBAND is now fascinated with Quantum anything. Quantum physics, quantum mechanics, quantum computing, quantum, quantum, quantum. The source of information on this subject is endless and he is determined to mine a lot of it.

As ever he tried to involve me in this search. I know it is his need to share with me and I try, I really try, to be interested, but the pieces of info that stay with me are the whimsical words. In Quantum computing there is the word qubit. This is a combination of quantum and bit. In classical computing a bit is one of the smallest piece of information stored. (The only thing smaller is a nibble. I kid you not, a nibble. Somewhere out there is a computer nerd with enough of a sense of humor to name it a nibble.) The fact I know this, and I’m not sure I really do, is temporary at best. Tomorrow this may be filed away in the “q” section of my brain where I don’t go very often. (I don’t have a lot of “q” information. Maybe I should work on that.)

Qubit alternatively reminds me of cupid; some very fancy cue stick for playing pool; or how to refer to a single person in a queue. All of these are much more fun to muse on than a computer bit. (THE HUSBAND loves to quote to me 8 bits in a byte. What?) So from bit they went to qubit. Were they not clever enough to make up a new word? Like Qubert, (oh, I like that one), or even Hubert or ququamo. (All right, I just went out of control on that last one. In fact when I spell checked this page there was absolutely no suggestion for this word . . . nothing, nada, crickets.) But, I digress, as I often do. (I just read this paragraph and it makes no sense to me.)

This qubit lives in the world of quantum computing which is supposed to take over the world of classical computing. As I understand it, and I’m just hanging on by a thread here, classical computing works on 0’s and 1’s. This is like a light switch, off and on. As these 0’s and 1’s go on and off this produces the information generated by the computer. This is considered by all to be a two way street in a straight line. Therefore if you were to require a particularly complicated piece of computing it might take the classical computer hundred’s of years to complete. (I really don’t think I will ever need anything that takes hundreds of years to complete. Well, maybe all of my craft projects I start but never finish.)

With a quantum computer the “lines” of information are able to travel in any number of ways, much like a tangle of hair. This is referred to as Super positioning. It’s theory is that something is able to be here and there and up and down at the same time. This enables the computer to do many, many, many things at once speeding up the computing time to hours instead of 100’s of years. I’m not kidding, this is what the quantum experts declare.

Now, I probably shouldn’t be the one to comment on this, but doesn’t this sound messy? Just tangles of roads with information traveling all higgeldy piggeldy?

Have you ever heard of Schrodinger’s cat? Schrodinger was a learned physicist who came up with the idea that if you put a live cat in a sealed box with a vial of poison that could or could not be set off, and left it there for a long time; right before you went to open the box you really wouldn’t know if the cat was dead or alive. This meant, at that moment in time, it could be both – dead and alive. (Because I watch The Big Bang Theory I actually knew this one before my lesson in quantum computing.) (I personally think you would indeed know if it was alive because it would be screaming it’s head off.  Did Schrodinger ever meet a cat? Did he ever own one? They are not completely tamable and will tell you at a moments notice whether they are happy or not. So for that cat to stay in that box without a peep … impossible, Schrodinger, impossible. You nit.                                                  Digressing again.

And that brings us to the next amazing fact. There is such a thing as quantum entanglement. They explain this theory thusly: Quantum entanglement is a physical phenomenon which occurs when pairs or groups of particles are generated or interact in ways such that the quantum, blah, blah, blah. Whaaat? The simple explanation they use is if a pair of dice were rolled 100 times on the west coast and a similar pair of dice were rolled 100 times on the east coast at the same time, they would end up with exactly the same combinations on every roll each and every time. And that is quantum entanglement. Good grief. Are you kidding me? I’m changing the meaning of that phrase to refer to when my hair gets particularly wild, beyond human belief and physics. THE HUSBAND is not thrilled by my whimsy.

And then there is the whole alternate universe thing which is really too much for me. There should not, in any way, shape or form be another MAGICAL MESS floating around in another universe. It would just not be magical. No, no, no.

And so I end this quantum rant leaving off much where I began … clueless and not caring.

As a last note, much of the above it not accurately viable. It is information that has gone into my brain, rumbled around, sorted through my parameters and come out as the above. THE HUSBAND informs me I have misrepresented Quantum computing. I don’t care. I like my version. I think my readers will have more fun with my version. What or who does my version harm? It’s not as if physicists are reading the Magical Mess Chronicles. (Maybe they should.)

I’m tired; physically, mentally, emotionally spent.  I’ve had it with so many things in life.

For instance – Portland smelling like a toilet.  Traffic full of people who don’t know how to drive, or don’t care to follow the rules.  Crowded streets, shops, restaurants, parks.  Rudeness, vulgarity, profanity, crudeness.

I’m tired of trying to please people all day long so my company can get a good review; meanwhile there is not a thing I could do for some people to please them.  I bend over backwards, with a smile on my face, and still they complain because they had to wait; had to call back; had to be put on hold; didn’t hear what they wanted to hear.  They pout like small children all the time assuming they are the only patient you will see that day.  The best friend calls this “Compassion Fatigue.”  I think she is spot on.

I am tired of rules and regulations that make no sense but continue to be put in place because some dumb ass thought it was a good idea.  Yes, I said dumb ass.  You can see how upset I am since I don’t often think like this.

I am weary of the shear feat of strength it takes to get up in the morning and get on with the work day.  I am worn out by a job that is not fulfilling and continues to grow worse over the years.

Yes, I am in the medical profession.  In days gone by, this used to be such a wonderful profession; filled with the knowledge you are helping people in pain and watching results happen before your very eyes.

Now all that happens is waiting for insurances to approve or, more often than not, deny the very thing that can give our patients relief.  Days are filled with recording in minutia every detail of every visit so that someday, if a case goes to court, our bases are covered.

I know I’m ranting but it is long over due.  The magical mess feels under appreciated, under valued and over worked in a profession that is supposed to mirror the loving spirit of Christ and minister to His people.

Mostly, I am feeling tired from nothing making any common sense.  Since when was it a good idea to protest in downtown and shut down streets; harass the bystanders; pillage and plunder business and eventually shut them down; and then pee on the sidewalk.

When did it become okay for the F-word to be spoken on a regular basis in every venue one enters.

How has it become acceptable for rudeness to reign and the quite, everyday people to stop being respected.

I’ve had it with society, government and the media.  I’ve had it with civilization in general.  If this is what a progressive society looks like then we truly have digressed and are now settling into the world as told in “1984.”  Read it sometime and then compare it with what is happening today.  It will scare you silly, and not in a good way.

This magical mess is not accustomed to writing like this.  I usually try to see the humor in every happenstance.  I laugh daily, sometimes so as not to cry for the world I live in.  I had to get this all off my chest.  I had to vent.

Now, I will get off my high horse named Righteous Indignation.  Stay tuned for the mess to pull up her big girl panties and get on with living every day as a magical being, finding a reason to put on a smile and enjoying the small things in life.  I am trying to learn the fine art of letting it go.