Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Mental Constipation

(He doesn't read my page, but just in case ... no infringement intended, Moooog)

I am suffering from writer's constipation. Not that I actually consider myself a "writer" (in air quotes) per se ... only in the simple fact that the verb which is used to convey the act of putting my hard lumpy thoughts on the computer screen is, in fact, 'writing'. Thus making me, the noun in question, a 'writer'. Boy, that was confusing.

There ... now that I have THAT outta the way.


Seriously ... constipated ... in the head. That can't be good for a person.

The weekend was good. My bud came for a visit. We drank 'wodka' with cranberry juice and 7Up. She spent the entire evening wearing this:
It's a Scottish cow hat. There were parts of the night where she was divulging highly poignant, personal and serious thoughts into the warm summer's eve air ... all the while with this thing on her head. At one particularly tense part of her story, I burst into hysterics (to her bewilderment) and then had to apologize profusely ... but I couldn't help it, she looked so bloody funny. Pretty hard to take that seriously, really. What a derf-wad.

My girls had so much fun with her. They love to have company ... and we are hermits, it would seem. They called her "Aunt Donna" the entire time she was there. (Which would be in reference to my mother's sister) She answered to it, though and they coined a new band name: 'Blondie and the Aunt Donna's ... no wonder they like her so much ... she's one of 'em. (Apparently, Stretch ~aka Blondie~ crawled into bed with her in the wee hours of morning and informed Pauly that it was alright if she called her Blondie as Pauly answered to Aunt Donna ... geez that was cuter when described verbally.)

Pauly had recently done a mortgage for a guy she new from her teens - turns out I had met him (back then) as well. They are sorta buddies and she had gotten an email from him while she was there. I proceeded to tell her that he and his friend who's name turned out to be Jon had been at my (childhood) house, messing around with my keyboard and guitar ... IN MY ROOM, NO LESS! (note to self - ground Shorty and Stretch upon their 12th birthdays ... GAWD, I was BAD!)

I snapped that pic (up there) and she emailed it to him with the story of how our evening was going. I haven't seen him since I was probably 15 years old. He remembered me ... somewhat fondly from what she was saying. Then between his emails and my sputtering memory, we pieced together how we knew each other ('cause I couldn't remember how we came to meet). Then she pipes up and says; (reading from her crackberry) he sez "ask her if she remembers 'Eddie'?".

OMGWTFSOSLOLROFLMAOFO (did I get them all?). I nearly fell on the floor. I had completely forgotten ... I played tonsil hockey with one of their loser friends at a beach party and the other two presided over the evening in complete dismay. I remember both of them shaking their heads and asking me "WHY EDDIE?" I didn't even remember the event, so I couldn't tell you what he was like. (Though, judging by the reaction - I would say he must qualify as one of the many toads I had kissed whilst looking for my prince)

Apparently they were both quite jealous at the time. Nice compliment for me. My Hubs has been ruthlessly razzing me about it ever since. How I was such a meanie to all the boys ... he was chanting some chopped up version of Georgie Peorgie puddin' -n- pie ... kissed the girls and made them cry ... 'cept with words I'm not gonna repeat remember.

Yeah ... my Friday night was a blast!!

Sunday, my father came for a visit. It is the first time I have seen or spoken to him in over three years. It was ... okay. Uncomfortable ... but okay. He enjoyed the girls quite a bit, and they love to have attention company. I was wishing that Sunday was still Saturday so I could de-tensify myself ... alas, Monday - she came.

She brought a present, though (Miss Monday)... Hubs and I got our "absolute discharge" certificate yesterday. Woot!! We are free ... it is official! After all the shit that went on last month, I have to say I didn't think it was ever going to happen. Please - PLEASE, Universe ... let's never have any credit issues again, k?

All in all, things are fine. We are into single digits, counting down to vacation. Narci is giving me a great deal of grief about my going on vacation for a whole week. He's not real happy about the fact that I will not be reachable. (Imagine) Given the fact that he can't even log IN to the mortgage system ... dumb ass. I guts ONE TING to say to you, Narci: NINE MORE DAYS!!! *blows raspberry*

Happy Tuesday, Bleeps!!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Friday, July 2, 2010

...and a happy fricken Canada Day to you, too.

I can say with complete honesty that my general outlook on life has been altered... let's hope that is permanent.

First, let me say:
Second, I had such a great night Wednesday. For my non Canadian friends, Wednesday was Canada Day Eve ... which in layman's terms means a night of drinking and merriment. And merriment, there was. What a great night. We barbecued and sat out on the deck and watched the girls freeze in the pool ... good times. 

Yesterday, I didn't do much other than bum around the house. Nothing too strenuous, for sure. We barbecued again for dinner ... plus I had made more seafood chowder with scallops and shrimp ... nummers. While sitting at the dinner table, I noticed a headache coming on fairly strong. I got up and went out on the deck to get my water bottle (so I could take some advil) and I turned kinda funny when I tried to close the screen. I then went inside and after swallowing the pills, sat down in the recliner and proceeded to put my feet up in hopes of dislodging my headache.

Things went progressively down hill from there. I had pain in my left arm, and jaw. I went tingly from roughly mid sternum out and waves of dizziness, heat/cold and tinglies swept over me in turns. I had that pins and needles feeling in my face and massive nausea. I can tell you that I have never been so frightened of my own body in my life. I called out to hubs to come in the living room ... he took one look at me and the decision was made that we would be going to the hospital. He asked me a bunch of questions, made me stick out my tongue and took my pulse (yes, he has first aid training) and then he and I left for the ER. 

It was everything in my power not to panic. I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. Though, I wasn't in actual pain. Just tingly and very faint. We left the girls with Mom (who went the color of flour when we told her what was going on). I said goodbye to them in the driveway and it struck me just how much I wanted to return to my life. (This sounds so dramatic today ... now that I know I'm okay ... but I was truly petrified leaving that house last night.) I cried off and on the whole way to the hospital.

Once inside, the triage nurse didn't do a great deal to ease my fears either. Plus my husband was acting weirder and weirder as each test was completed ... blood pressure elevated, pulse wonky ... you know  - I was SCARED. Then she asks if ever I've been admitted to hospital before ... uh no ... just when I had my babies ... and she whips an ID band on my arm and whisks me off into what I can only presume is the inner sanctum of the ER where she informs me I am to disrobe, put on the johnny shirt and await the EKG and blood work. I looked at hubs and whispered "am I being admitted now?" He made a lame joke about how I needed the special bracelet to be able to pass thru the magic doors ... I glared at him and said I wasn't 5 ... but honestly, I was nearly as frightened as if I were.

Tasks complete, I sat down and waited.... and waited ... and waited some more. Nobody came. Meanwhile, there was a woman in the next curtain that (and I mean no disrespect here ... but this was freaky) sounded like some sort of monster. She was snarling and snapping and growling and howling. We didn't realize it was a woman until they had three nurses in there - two holding her and one force feeding her pudding. I thought maybe they were giving me some sort of field stress test or something ... geesh!

Anyway ... an hour and 45 minutes later ... Dr Ass Hat steps in. Treats me like I am a complete waste of his time ... PICKS HIS NOSE and his EAR right in front of us ... then (begrudgingly) examines me ... for STROKE. *sighs* It's doctors like him that make people like me NOT go to the hospital ... convincing themselves there is nothing really wrong.

I am super grateful that the worst thing that happened was that I had an asshole for a doctor. We figure I must have pinched a nerve and that was what caused the sensation. I still feel slightly tingly, but all other symptoms have passed. 

I took extra care kissing my children goodnight last night.

The last thing my husband said to me before I went to sleep was: "Don't you EVER do ANYTHING like THAT to me again ... OKAY? I can't take scares like that at my age." and, "I love you".

Disaster avoided ... and now it's on to a weekend of more merriment. I'm outta here (work) in less than an hour and then it's groceries, Wal Mart and home for ... yup, you guessed it - a barbecue and more cold kiddles in the pool.

Have a super weekend - and for all my Americum friends - happy 4th of July!

D out