Thursday, January 22, 2009

Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help-yoga crap. It's not helping!

Last night was the big, 2 hour premier of "Lost" and I was passed out like a bitch by 8:55. Thank Blog for Tivo, right? Unfortunately, I did not sleep well despite my early retirement.

Turns out that Dom must be a massive, massive heat source in our room. Because with him gone, I was cold as balls on ice! I had the heat on. I had socks on. I even had a dog and a cat curled up under the covers! But did that make me warm and snuggly? Not so much. I miss the Dom-shaped lump under the comforter. But at least one day's down, right?

Oh, and I don't have to deal with Dr. Crapburger, Gynocologist at Large for a while. He said many, many things that would otherwise not be appropriate for a man to say if he had not been a gynocologist. We'll just leave it at that.

Now I'm trying to decide if I'm up for yoga today or if I want to push it back and take Saturday's class instead. Tomorrow I promised a friend that I would go shopping about 45 mins-1 hour away and I don't forsee me getting much down time if I don't take today off. I really love that yoga class though! It's the same teacher and level on Saturday, I think I'm just going to go then. It will also give me something to do this weekend rather than be bored and have nothing to break up the days with.

For the wintery weather, today's gift to you is dude on a leather couch wearing a Snuggie.

Today's subject line quote is Dean Winchester, "Supernatural" (2005) {Phantom Traveler (#1.4)}.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Steady on, Doc. That's me you're talking about.

I'm so very excited this morning. Today is finally my appointment with the lady parts doctor. Some of you may remember that this has been a battle months in the making.

First, I called the local sheriff's office trying to book an appointment. And yes, I managed to spill the details of what procedures I needed done before the voice on the other line informed me of my dialing error. Then, I had to make an appointment with my regular doctor, who then referred me to this guy. Now I have to meet a man who will shake my hand and then shake his in my hoo-ha. Can't wait.

Let's not forget that I get nervous at doctor's offices and revert back to a 5 year old following directions. Who knows why...but I do. I hear about the first 4 words and then panic. When I had my initial blood work done after getting knocked up, I peed in the cup wrong. Turns out, I was supposed to pee in a cup AND a tube. Who pees in the cup wrong?! Me.

When I had my physical to donate plasma back in Fayetteville, I totally made an ass of myself. The doc there, who was totally not wanting to be there in the first place, told me to lay down on my back. Laid down on my stomach. He gave me such an Are you special? look and all I could do was shyly tell him that I get nervous.

And now, I recount all of those embarrassing details for the entire internet. What is wrong with me? Don't answer that. Here, have a present.

And your subject line quote is Fr. Vincent, "Ballykissangel" (1996) {Getting Better all the Time (#6.7)}.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

So tell me, Commodore, why are the weirdos the only ones who pay their rent checks in advance?

Yesterday, I had a decent MLK day. How about you?

Started off by winning a game of rock, paper, scissors and securing my right to sleep in while Dom took care of Michael. He still says I cheated. I say he's too predictable. You'd think he would learn his strengths and weaknesses by now. After almost 5 years of marriage, I know him pretty well. I can just see it in his face if he's gonna pull out a balled up fist for rock or a flat palm for paper.

Regardless, we can play all the games of RPS we want and it's not going to stop him from leaving tomorrow for the middle of the ocean. It's only 2 weeks, but it's our 2 weeks that we would be otherwise together. I've also never been alone with Michael for longer than 4 or 5 days. As soon as he gets back, he's only home for another week or so before leaving for another 2 week trip. On top of that, he'll be gone most of June--missing our 5th anniversary. So take your that's not a real deployment BS and spill it to someone who deserves it; because I'm going to have to be dealing with people like the ones I encountered yesterday while grocery shopping.

Dom was gracious enough to cook a beautiful dinner of big, fat manicotti for me. So I offered to make dessert and get some last minute fixin's for the meal (bread, salad, etc.). While at the store, I ran into Geraldine. We talked in the aisle for a few, and as I was about to walk away some random weirdo comes in between us and says, "One more beautiful lady and you could be the Charlie's Angels." He then stooped and did a gun pose and kept talking about how you need at least 3 but could use up to 5 for it.

I'd hate to think what my face looked like after that, because G's scowl and What the hell? eyebrow raise was pretty telling. Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of my encounter with eccentric grocery store patrons.

After getting home and having lunch, I realized I had not gotten the bread. Damn the bread! I wasn't about to go all the way back to Wally World for a French loaf. And, since Dom had kept Michael while I was gone to the store last time...I was due to take him with me. So we hopped in the car, and headed for the little market just down the street from the house.

Getting Michael out of the car, there was a guy pulling his beat up Camry out of the spot next to mine. He turned his deafening bass off, rolled down his window, and called out "How you doin? That's a cute baby!" As I turned around to see the two toddlers bouncing around in his back seat, definitely not safely secured in carseats, he also said "Mama's pretty cute, too" before driving away.

The moral of the story? I don't know...if I wear my hair curly it brings out the freaks? There was a very nice person at the store, as well. It's not all creeps and kooks. She was shopping alone with her newborn and dropped a 6 pack of paper towels trying to hold him and lay them on the bottom of her basket. I helped her get situated, she told me where the green olives were. In dropping another couple of things before I left, she also said "I knew this was a bad idea."

I really wanted to be profound and tell her that there aren't any bad ideas, only bad outcomes. But, then I'd be one of the weirdos she'd probably blog about later. And I have a reputation to uphold.

Ready for your present? Just in case you have the same shopping debacles filled with oddballs and asshats...I'm giving you all pepper spray.

Today's subject line quote is by Mr. Nutt from "The X Files" (1993) {Humbug (#2.20)}


Follow me. I might lead you somewhere you haven't been.