I tried finding my wife’s condition in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, but Kellieness is not a generally accepted diagnosis. Dissociative identity disorder, more commonly known as multiple personality disorder, was the closest match I could find after ruling out the only other likely candidates, bipolar disorder or schizophrenia.
Kellie claims that marriage extends a man's life expectancy but reduces a woman's. I didn’t believe her and needed only minutes to prover her wrong, again. Studies show that married women outlive their single counterparts too. I'm tired of always being right.
A University of California, Santa Barbara, study published in the New England Journal of Medicine found that some men have an enlarged pelvic splanchnic ganglion, just big enough to be classified as a second, albeit much smaller, brain.
Valentine's Day is approaching. By this time I'm usually obsessing over what gift to buy or where to celebrate, but not this year. Kellie is leaving me—for another woman—two other women to be precise. She and a couple of girlfriends are planning a trip to Sedona, Arizona, for a long weekend of hiking, hot tubs, and happy hour specials. Back home, the other abandoned men and I will have to console ourselves with hot wings at Hooters.
What do extraterrestrials, cross dressing, (not to be confused with cross dressing extraterrestrials), antigravity, The Gulf oil spill, free energy, 9/11, Fukushima, a messiah complex, and the Bermuda Triangle all have in common? If you guessed my anti-radiation ray gun wielding neighbors, the Hutchisons, then give yourself a pat on the back; you’re a loyal reader of Living in Kellie’s World.
It’s bad enough when your vacation home sits next door to a man who believes he invented a combination ray gun and sound system that neutralizes radioactivity from the reactor accident in Fukushima, Japan. It's an entirely different problem when his wife claims that she and her husband are the descendants of Jesus and Mary Magdalene. I’ve written about my neighbor John Hutchison and his ray guns before; you can read about it here, here, and here, but I recently discovered this biblical gem by his wife Nancy on a message board at the Cosmic Token:
At the age of 54, the day that I had been dreading for years had finally arrived. On Thursday, January 9, 2014, I discovered my first gray hair. I found it while examining my recently receding hairline. To be perfectly truthful, it's not the first gray hair on on my body, just the first gray hair on my scalp. Gray hairs sprouted elsewhere several years ago and have been migrating north from my nether regions ever since. I was initially quite concerned because those early white settlers were much more crinkly than the darker natives. I envisioned a future looking like a less intelligent Albert Einstein.
Kellie doesn’t allow sexy time to happen unless the bedroom door is locked. Period. Unfortunately, for me, the bedroom door on our Cannes apartment was lacking the required lock. I improvised by wedging a beach umbrella under the door handle, propped up by a couple of magazines and copy of Rick Steves’ France, the 2011 edition with the foldout color map.
A German study published in the New England Journal of Medicine reported that staring at women's breasts improves men's health. According to the research, men who stared at woman’s breasts had a reduced risk of heart disease and better cardiovascular health.
Kellie is back home in Oceanside, California, and I’m alone in Gold Beach, Oregon, trying to quell my neighbor’s ray guns. Since they first showed up next to our vacation rental property with their ray guns mounted on top of an old, white sheriff’s bus, they have been busy establishing a more permanent setup. They are remodeling their building, formally a small storage facility, into a laboratory with personal living quarters for self proclaimed scientist John Hutchison and his lovely wife Nancy. It looks like they are spending a good deal of money. I never knew crazy was so lucrative.
