So I haven't been blogging, clearly. And here's why.
After the delightful pneumonia, the c-diff colitis and then the jammed finger (which, still in physical therapy for, oh and maybe will never be the same again), I just couldn't get any energy for anything. I mean it was like 7 o'clock every night and I could have gone straight to sleep and slept until the morning. And that's WITHOUT the medication I take every night to sleep. I mean I was TIRED.
Come to find out, that my high white blood count (still not normal, but since it's me does anyone expect normalcy and if you do, for shame!) is the result of my body slowly attacking and destroying my thyroid. For a while we had no idea what was going on. Finally I had a bunch of blood tests done to check for leukemia, auto immune disorders and thyroid condition. Well it turns out, the exhaustion, incredibly dry skin and hair, night sweats, loss of track of thought and temperature problems? Not female problems but thyroid problems! (and thankfully not cancer because that would have been a major bummer.)
So now I am on meds (for the rest of my life, lucky me!) and am somewhat back in action.
Inspired by the real, honest to God snow day we have today (actually we have like 7 inches. And it really is, not like a man's 7 which is only 4), I am returning to the screen to share some random things that have been in my mind occasionally when I wasn't sleeping over the last couple months.
Why do people call in sick all the time and claim it's a stomach flu? Just how much stomach flu can one person have. Why do you think it's believable to have stomach flu numerous times in a year. And if you do, then there is something wrong with your pipes. I've had c-diff colitis, cholera and norovirus. You don't get these things over and over all year round. You're a liar and you must think I'm stupid to believe you. Or you're a liar and *you're* stupid. Either way, there is stupidity.
Why is it when you order a winter coat at the end of the season, the season comes back so that you have snow but no winter coat. Is that irony? or is it just Fate fucking with you. Wait. That is irony.
Why do children misspell words and by accident have them full of things that as an adult makes you want to roll over laughing but you can't because who wants to explain that to a 9 year old? For example, we played a review game on Thursday and the kids had to write their answers on white boards and hold them up. I'd never seen so many misspellings including the word "cock." Cucumber was cockumer, cactus, cocktus, bedrock, bedcock. And not just those, a chart question yielded Norfuck instead of Norfolk, Vagina for Virginia. And this is not all! The first graders were collecting Pennies for Peace. And what did one sign say? Penis for Peace. Now everyone knows a penis never brought any peace unless it worked with batteries.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
It's come to my attention that my family and I do not speak like normal people
This was brought home to me today when I went to exchange some foundation at Sephora. I asked the girl whose eyes were shockingly green (and I am not talking about the irises, but the eye lids and the surrounding ocular region) to help me find a liquid foundation. "Well," she said," what are you looking for in a foundation?" to which I replied "I am rendered helpless by the dazzling array of options."
Who speaks this way?
Well actually, Ricardo does. He was at Lenscrafters while I was at Sephora. He went to get his sunglasses realigned, there was just the slightest hint of a wobble to them. But he found them comfortable enough to say, "Let's declare victory. They're done." Then he had to buy some lens cleaner. The rednecky woman pointed him to the shelf and asked "What kind?" to which he replied, "Oh, do you have a vast array?"
Which begs the question as to why we speak this way, whether we can stop and if we should.
While waiting at the home medical supply store for some medical supplies, we learned the word sphygmomanometer. Then we spent the next 40 minutes coming up with sentences using sphygmomanometer. For example, "Excuse me nurse, but you will need the sphygomanometer with the greatest capacity if you want an accurate measure of my blood pressure." and "I seem to have misplaced my sphygmomanometer and so I am unable to take your blood pressure manually." as well as "Pardon me, Home Medical Supply Vendor, but do you have a child sized sphygmomanometer in blue?" and topped off by "My home blood pressure monitor obviates the need for a sphygmomanometer".
And it's so bad that our child has begun to speak bizarrely as well. He'll ask what beverage we would like for dinner. He uses the word "delectable" to describe black beans and refers to the plans of villains as diabolical.
Is there something wrong with us? I mean aside from the patently obvious? What are we doing to our child by continuing to speak in this insane manner?
Who speaks this way?
Well actually, Ricardo does. He was at Lenscrafters while I was at Sephora. He went to get his sunglasses realigned, there was just the slightest hint of a wobble to them. But he found them comfortable enough to say, "Let's declare victory. They're done." Then he had to buy some lens cleaner. The rednecky woman pointed him to the shelf and asked "What kind?" to which he replied, "Oh, do you have a vast array?"
Which begs the question as to why we speak this way, whether we can stop and if we should.
While waiting at the home medical supply store for some medical supplies, we learned the word sphygmomanometer. Then we spent the next 40 minutes coming up with sentences using sphygmomanometer. For example, "Excuse me nurse, but you will need the sphygomanometer with the greatest capacity if you want an accurate measure of my blood pressure." and "I seem to have misplaced my sphygmomanometer and so I am unable to take your blood pressure manually." as well as "Pardon me, Home Medical Supply Vendor, but do you have a child sized sphygmomanometer in blue?" and topped off by "My home blood pressure monitor obviates the need for a sphygmomanometer".
And it's so bad that our child has begun to speak bizarrely as well. He'll ask what beverage we would like for dinner. He uses the word "delectable" to describe black beans and refers to the plans of villains as diabolical.
Is there something wrong with us? I mean aside from the patently obvious? What are we doing to our child by continuing to speak in this insane manner?
Saturday, January 3, 2009
how do right handed people make cakes left handed?
and more importantly, why would they? and why is this all lower case? well let me tell you.
after a solid month of illness, december was not finished with me yet. ricardo had gone to the mla in san francisco and the kid had gone to the north eastern city my mom lives in to spend some time with her. i drove to our nation's capital to retrieve my husband from the airport and spend some time with him child free in the land of free museums.
we had a lovely time. we saw an exhibit on pompeii which got me all excited to teach rome soon. we went to see valkyrie and once again were impressed by what real movie theaters are like. we tried to go to this chocolate themed restaurant called Co Co. it was too hip for us. i feel like these kinds of places thrive on being overwhelming to novices and hence gain the reputation for being chic when in fact it's just a way to justify charging $6 for a hot chocolate and $2.50 for a square of chocolate the size of your thumb nail.
which brings me back to hands.
after we got some b grade tapas, we headed to see some friends for new years. we had dinner with them, were dazzled by their to die for daughter who has the best chubby baby thighs ever, and enjoyed their company. we called it quits on the erly side and ricardo and i headed to our car.
i was wearing danskos. do you know these shoes? they are awesome for museuming because you can stand in them for hours and your feet never hurt and your back feels great. know what they suck for? anything but standing and especially stairs.
as i was heading down the concrete stairs, my ankle turned. i lost my footing and fell down four stairs crushing my pinky and smashing my back. i tested the finger to see if it bent and it did. so i focused on the ankle. foolish me. by the time we got to the hotel the pink was the size of my thumb. still thinking it was no biggie, i iced the ankle and the finger and went to bed. but boy did it ever hurt!!!
and here's why. the next morning it was a lumpy purple sausage of a thing and not only could i not bend it but even air hurt it. i made it to the doctor yesterday. it's badly broken at the knuckle. there is also a gap in the break probably from... you guessed it! the bending! i may need to go to the orthopedist because it may need to be reset.
oh and i was totally sober.
and it continues to feel like someone smashing it with a hammer over and over and over again until the vicadin kicks in and it just feels like stubbing your toe over and over.
and thus finished the heinous 2008. you know the phrase don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out? yeah, 2008 hit me but good!
after a solid month of illness, december was not finished with me yet. ricardo had gone to the mla in san francisco and the kid had gone to the north eastern city my mom lives in to spend some time with her. i drove to our nation's capital to retrieve my husband from the airport and spend some time with him child free in the land of free museums.
we had a lovely time. we saw an exhibit on pompeii which got me all excited to teach rome soon. we went to see valkyrie and once again were impressed by what real movie theaters are like. we tried to go to this chocolate themed restaurant called Co Co. it was too hip for us. i feel like these kinds of places thrive on being overwhelming to novices and hence gain the reputation for being chic when in fact it's just a way to justify charging $6 for a hot chocolate and $2.50 for a square of chocolate the size of your thumb nail.
which brings me back to hands.
after we got some b grade tapas, we headed to see some friends for new years. we had dinner with them, were dazzled by their to die for daughter who has the best chubby baby thighs ever, and enjoyed their company. we called it quits on the erly side and ricardo and i headed to our car.
i was wearing danskos. do you know these shoes? they are awesome for museuming because you can stand in them for hours and your feet never hurt and your back feels great. know what they suck for? anything but standing and especially stairs.
as i was heading down the concrete stairs, my ankle turned. i lost my footing and fell down four stairs crushing my pinky and smashing my back. i tested the finger to see if it bent and it did. so i focused on the ankle. foolish me. by the time we got to the hotel the pink was the size of my thumb. still thinking it was no biggie, i iced the ankle and the finger and went to bed. but boy did it ever hurt!!!
and here's why. the next morning it was a lumpy purple sausage of a thing and not only could i not bend it but even air hurt it. i made it to the doctor yesterday. it's badly broken at the knuckle. there is also a gap in the break probably from... you guessed it! the bending! i may need to go to the orthopedist because it may need to be reset.
oh and i was totally sober.
and it continues to feel like someone smashing it with a hammer over and over and over again until the vicadin kicks in and it just feels like stubbing your toe over and over.
and thus finished the heinous 2008. you know the phrase don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out? yeah, 2008 hit me but good!
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