Admittedly, bloggers who skip a day of blogging drive me nuts and yet, here I am, a blogger that misses more days than I post. However, I am of the opinion that you cannot bitch about something if you are not willing to change it (which I may have mentioned before--I really can't remember) so here I am, trying to change my blogging ways so that I hae the right to bitch about others who do not post on a day to day basis. :) Not really, I just thought that maybe I had something to say today.
I have been reading blogs by a woman who makes artwork to help benefit pediatric cancer and have been wondering if there is anything that I could do to make a difference in this world. I am not an activist by any means but I do want to do my part in what small ways I can manage on a day to day basis. So here is what I have been doing to help out in my own little way (because you all know that I am all about the little things!)...
1) I sit in my car often to read for a few minutes between appointments or drop-offs or to eat my lunch in peace and I always try to remember to shut it off while I am parked so that I am not polluting the environment for no reason.
2) I am going to start recycling. My town does not have a recycling center. The nearest bins are 30 miles away but I am willing to buy a few totes to sit on my front deck for paper, plastic, glass and cans and then I will drive them all the way to the center to do my small part in the recycling effort. I will even recycle the plastic bottles from all of the bottled water I drink to help make up for the fact that I am picky and only drink the bottled kind.
3) I am going to plant flowers this spring. That will beautify the environment in my neighborhood--at least until I kill them all off with my "black thumb".
4) I will spend more time outside on the deck reading my book this summer and less time inside watching television which will save on electricity.
5) I will try to remember to switch the laundry so that I don' t have to waste water going through the wash cycle again because it's been sitting there forgotten for three days! And I will try to take shorter showers (except on the rare days when I have to shave and therefore have every right to be in that shower for 45 minutes!).
6) I planted a tree on my MySpace page which in turn had Chevrolet plant a real live tree.
7) My husband will bike to work instead of driving his gas-guzzling, environment killing Suburban! Okay, so that's not me, but it's still good for the world around us!!!
That's all I can think of at the moment. Maybe I will do more. Maybe I won't. But I will try. What little things can you do?
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Lighter Side of This...
Have you ever had a boob squishing mammogram? I can now officially say that I have. Go me! Yeah, not really. I was surprised to find out that it was, in fact, kinda funny.
I have heard a few words that women have repeatedly used to describe a mammogram...degrading (and it surely had it's moments of degradation), cold (never did feel the coldness), and squish (which I most definitely understand). In an effort to help out all of the women in America who may have to go through this in the future, I thought that I would tell you every detail so that when you do go in, you will not be unarmed. (In all truth, I just need to find the lighter side of a dark situation as this was a scary situation.)
So, my first advice is...take a good friend with you. Someone funny, quirky, and close enough to be able to talk freely about your breasts. Kit came by the office to ride with me to the hospital in the next town. The drive there was like any other day with her, just small talk and friendship. We arrived at the hospital to find that the entrance was blocked by some construction morons fixing the road! That makes for a great start to a wonderful experience. NOT! We find a parking place and Kit asks if she can take my book in with her. Sign of a true friend---a woman who is willing to read an icky romance novel while waiting at the doctors office for you when she most surely has better things to do. We make our way to the admissions desk (after stopping for directions because we women are capable of doing that!!!) where I sit down and fiddle in my purse. After a minute of waiting at what appears to be a deserted desk, I ring the bell (feeling a tad guilty for interuppting her gossip session in the next room). As I answer all of the questions and get signed in to do my test, Kit is standing behind me making odd snarling noises. I pay no mind to the woman becuase that is, of course, her normal sounding irritation at life. The admissions woman gets up and dissapears. I turn around to talk to Kit and find her wiping the dust off of all the decorations on the walls!!! Then she starts to exclaim in a none-too-quiet voice about how finding all of that dust just drives her crazy and she "wonders who cleans this place". The admissions lady comes back and tells us to meet her around the corner in the big hall. As I stand to leave, she says to Kit "I suppose you think we should clean those". Without missing a beat, Kit replies "No, I think I got it all, now." I turn the corner and about pee myself laughing. Reason one why I love Kit...she slays me!!!
So, we sit down in the waiting room and a nurse comes through the door to give me some paperwork to fill out. It is pink, of course. I fill it out to the best of my knowledge as Kit rearranges all of the magazines in the rack. I turn over the sheet and come across a drawing of...breasts. I have to draw any scars or moles that I have on my breasts. I look to Kit and say "I know I have a mole. I just don't know where!" I look up at the video camera in the corner and then decide that guessing just isn't an option, so I pull out my shirt and look down to see my boobs. Yep, there it is...on my right boob. Okay, good...so I draw a little circle on the pink paper on my lap in the correct place, look over and Kit and giggle like a little girl (probably because of the nerves, not becuase I am just that childish). The nurse comes through the door and takes the clipboard from me while I'm still trying to suppress my giggles and tells me they will be out to get me in a few minutes.
I try to focus my thoughts on the book in my hand when out of the corner of my eye I notice movement in the pane of security glass. I turn to take a look (curiosity always getting the better of me) and my heart leaps into my throat. I am about to head through a brown non-descript door to bare my breasts to some unknown person and behind the glass next to the waiting room is..............a man with a camera!!! Seriously, folks. I was floored! How exactly am I supposed to feel comfortable with the procedure that I am about to endure when there is some pervert on the other side of that door waiting to use me as the star of his next amateur porn shoot?!? Yikes! I say as much to Kit who lovingly rolls her eyes and goes back to reading her Good Housekeeping magazine (that has a slightly more interesting than my dilemma pro-lesbian ad where a woman is asking for a wife) and finally the nurse calls me in through "the door".
The rest of the boob squishing experience made me laugh just as much as it made me want to cry. Here's what the tell you when you get in but no one thinks to tell you before hand. You are handed a plethora of things to tie, tape and plaster to your upper body with very short instructions on how to do so. First you are given a "Mammowipe" (I found this to be hilarious because it is essentially a baby wipe with a stupid name) to wipe off all deodorant which can show up on the scan as calcium deposits. Then you are given PINK band-aids that have a bee-bee glued to the center of them to put over your nipples (see! even in the doctor's office there is to be no nipple-age on the screen!), pieces of pink tape to mark any lumps you may know about and different pink pieces of tape to mark and moles or scars. Finally you are given a hairdressers cape to allow yourself a molecule of privacy (except of course this one is in the mandatory cheap and flimsy fabric of all hospital gowns). When the nurse comes back in your boob is hoisted up on a platform and the nurse holds it in place as she steps on a gas pedal and a plastic plate comeszooming down to hold it in place. You have to quit breathing while the nurse steps behind the screen and the picture is taken. It's like a professional photo shoot for your breast. I tell ya what...my flattened breast felt flattered! Or not!
I walked out of the room after the procedure andpervert male nurse with camera is traipsing up and down the hall taking pictures of the women nurses. I guess he was just getting the before shots for his after hours porn shoot and he wasn't interested in the patients...just the nurses. Come to think of it, there just may have been one nurse in that little white outfit that you see in porn mags see in old psycho horror flicks can buy for Halloween. I am pretty sure that I may have, possibly seen one there. Hmm...makes one wonder.
All in all, the results were fine. I am fine and I will just wait another year for the next boob squishing annual exam. Fun times had by womankind.
Find the little humor in the day and you will find the silver linings in the gray.
I have heard a few words that women have repeatedly used to describe a mammogram...degrading (and it surely had it's moments of degradation), cold (never did feel the coldness), and squish (which I most definitely understand). In an effort to help out all of the women in America who may have to go through this in the future, I thought that I would tell you every detail so that when you do go in, you will not be unarmed. (In all truth, I just need to find the lighter side of a dark situation as this was a scary situation.)
So, my first advice is...take a good friend with you. Someone funny, quirky, and close enough to be able to talk freely about your breasts. Kit came by the office to ride with me to the hospital in the next town. The drive there was like any other day with her, just small talk and friendship. We arrived at the hospital to find that the entrance was blocked by some construction morons fixing the road! That makes for a great start to a wonderful experience. NOT! We find a parking place and Kit asks if she can take my book in with her. Sign of a true friend---a woman who is willing to read an icky romance novel while waiting at the doctors office for you when she most surely has better things to do. We make our way to the admissions desk (after stopping for directions because we women are capable of doing that!!!) where I sit down and fiddle in my purse. After a minute of waiting at what appears to be a deserted desk, I ring the bell (feeling a tad guilty for interuppting her gossip session in the next room). As I answer all of the questions and get signed in to do my test, Kit is standing behind me making odd snarling noises. I pay no mind to the woman becuase that is, of course, her normal sounding irritation at life. The admissions woman gets up and dissapears. I turn around to talk to Kit and find her wiping the dust off of all the decorations on the walls!!! Then she starts to exclaim in a none-too-quiet voice about how finding all of that dust just drives her crazy and she "wonders who cleans this place". The admissions lady comes back and tells us to meet her around the corner in the big hall. As I stand to leave, she says to Kit "I suppose you think we should clean those". Without missing a beat, Kit replies "No, I think I got it all, now." I turn the corner and about pee myself laughing. Reason one why I love Kit...she slays me!!!
So, we sit down in the waiting room and a nurse comes through the door to give me some paperwork to fill out. It is pink, of course. I fill it out to the best of my knowledge as Kit rearranges all of the magazines in the rack. I turn over the sheet and come across a drawing of...breasts. I have to draw any scars or moles that I have on my breasts. I look to Kit and say "I know I have a mole. I just don't know where!" I look up at the video camera in the corner and then decide that guessing just isn't an option, so I pull out my shirt and look down to see my boobs. Yep, there it is...on my right boob. Okay, good...so I draw a little circle on the pink paper on my lap in the correct place, look over and Kit and giggle like a little girl (probably because of the nerves, not becuase I am just that childish). The nurse comes through the door and takes the clipboard from me while I'm still trying to suppress my giggles and tells me they will be out to get me in a few minutes.
I try to focus my thoughts on the book in my hand when out of the corner of my eye I notice movement in the pane of security glass. I turn to take a look (curiosity always getting the better of me) and my heart leaps into my throat. I am about to head through a brown non-descript door to bare my breasts to some unknown person and behind the glass next to the waiting room is..............a man with a camera!!! Seriously, folks. I was floored! How exactly am I supposed to feel comfortable with the procedure that I am about to endure when there is some pervert on the other side of that door waiting to use me as the star of his next amateur porn shoot?!? Yikes! I say as much to Kit who lovingly rolls her eyes and goes back to reading her Good Housekeeping magazine (that has a slightly more interesting than my dilemma pro-lesbian ad where a woman is asking for a wife) and finally the nurse calls me in through "the door".
The rest of the boob squishing experience made me laugh just as much as it made me want to cry. Here's what the tell you when you get in but no one thinks to tell you before hand. You are handed a plethora of things to tie, tape and plaster to your upper body with very short instructions on how to do so. First you are given a "Mammowipe" (I found this to be hilarious because it is essentially a baby wipe with a stupid name) to wipe off all deodorant which can show up on the scan as calcium deposits. Then you are given PINK band-aids that have a bee-bee glued to the center of them to put over your nipples (see! even in the doctor's office there is to be no nipple-age on the screen!), pieces of pink tape to mark any lumps you may know about and different pink pieces of tape to mark and moles or scars. Finally you are given a hairdressers cape to allow yourself a molecule of privacy (except of course this one is in the mandatory cheap and flimsy fabric of all hospital gowns). When the nurse comes back in your boob is hoisted up on a platform and the nurse holds it in place as she steps on a gas pedal and a plastic plate comes
I walked out of the room after the procedure and
All in all, the results were fine. I am fine and I will just wait another year for the next boob squishing annual exam. Fun times had by womankind.
Find the little humor in the day and you will find the silver linings in the gray.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Trip to the great unknown...
Okay, so it's not so unkown because it's a trip that I have had to make every year for the last seven years and it is soooooo definitely not great in any terms of the word. So yeah, I guess my title sucked.
All right, I know that you are wondering where I took this splendiferous (hey, I think it's a word!!) trip to, right? Well, I won't keep y ou guessing any longer. I hopped in my car and drove over 20 miles to a nearby town that actually has some decent health care facilities to have my annual hmmmhmmm woman check-up.
For once, I didn't have to sit in the waiting room very long (although I wouldn't have minded on that particular day because I had a good book with me and I haven't had a lot of chances to read for more than 5 minutes lately--and five minutes of reading does not allow one to submerge themselves in a different reality at all). Anyway, I digress. I get called back at the same time as an older couple with a tiny baby boy (I swear the kid was dressed like a girl!). I patiently followed them back and waited my turn to be shoved into an exam room. As soon as she instructs the parents to strip the child down to a diaper, she leads me into a room and immediately says, "Let's get your weight". Now for the record, I have never had weight issues. I was a skinny scrawny bean pole of a girl in high school, completely hid my first pregnancy until I was seven months along and have been a comfortable size, even if I do now have "mommy boobs" and "wide hips". I am of the opinion that you cannot bitch about something that you are not willing to work to change and since I am completely against exercising and I love my junk food, I cannot bitch about being fat even if I was.
So anyway, I follow the nurse out of the room, all the while listening to her bitch about a back ache that she has because of catching a child who walked off an exam table the day before. I step on the scale and the next thing I know, the nurse stops in mid sentance to say..."Moo. Okay let's get your blood pressure." I did a quick double take and stepped off the scale just to hear it repeat her word..."MOOOOOO". Okay, now, a scale has never mooed at me before, so this is a new experience to me. I knew in the back of my mind (and in all of the "I'm fat" comments to my dear hubby) that I was gaining weight, but this was proof positive that it wasn't in my head. I had in fact gained probably 20-30 pounds!!! Yikes.
On with the appointment...the nurse never quit talking about her back. In fact, she was so concerned with her own pain that she never once asked me about what I was being seen for. She handed me a gown and stepped out of the room. In comes the doctor (a minute before I was actually ready for her to come in) and she is all business and ready to go with a smile on her face. The visit went like this...
Her: question, question...poke...small talk about weather...prod
Me: answer, shrug...squirm...answer small talk...cringe
Her: another question...this will be cold...shove, tickle, poke
Me: answer, stare into light in ceiling...yikes...squirm, move, clench
Her: all done, question about family history..."You need a mammogram, please get dressed and schedule it at the desk on your way out"...walks out the door
Me: look in mirror and wonder what just happened, get dressed, go to desk, schedule mammogram, walk to other desk, pay bill (10% discount for paying in full! Whoo hoo!), walk out of clinic, get in car, freak the fuck out (I am only 27 and didn't expect to need the boob squishing experience for several more years!!!)
Crap! Is there a bright side? Um, no. So, yeah...on with life, I suppose.
All right, I know that you are wondering where I took this splendiferous (hey, I think it's a word!!) trip to, right? Well, I won't keep y ou guessing any longer. I hopped in my car and drove over 20 miles to a nearby town that actually has some decent health care facilities to have my annual hmmmhmmm woman check-up.
For once, I didn't have to sit in the waiting room very long (although I wouldn't have minded on that particular day because I had a good book with me and I haven't had a lot of chances to read for more than 5 minutes lately--and five minutes of reading does not allow one to submerge themselves in a different reality at all). Anyway, I digress. I get called back at the same time as an older couple with a tiny baby boy (I swear the kid was dressed like a girl!). I patiently followed them back and waited my turn to be shoved into an exam room. As soon as she instructs the parents to strip the child down to a diaper, she leads me into a room and immediately says, "Let's get your weight". Now for the record, I have never had weight issues. I was a skinny scrawny bean pole of a girl in high school, completely hid my first pregnancy until I was seven months along and have been a comfortable size, even if I do now have "mommy boobs" and "wide hips". I am of the opinion that you cannot bitch about something that you are not willing to work to change and since I am completely against exercising and I love my junk food, I cannot bitch about being fat even if I was.
So anyway, I follow the nurse out of the room, all the while listening to her bitch about a back ache that she has because of catching a child who walked off an exam table the day before. I step on the scale and the next thing I know, the nurse stops in mid sentance to say..."Moo. Okay let's get your blood pressure." I did a quick double take and stepped off the scale just to hear it repeat her word..."MOOOOOO". Okay, now, a scale has never mooed at me before, so this is a new experience to me. I knew in the back of my mind (and in all of the "I'm fat" comments to my dear hubby) that I was gaining weight, but this was proof positive that it wasn't in my head. I had in fact gained probably 20-30 pounds!!! Yikes.
On with the appointment...the nurse never quit talking about her back. In fact, she was so concerned with her own pain that she never once asked me about what I was being seen for. She handed me a gown and stepped out of the room. In comes the doctor (a minute before I was actually ready for her to come in) and she is all business and ready to go with a smile on her face. The visit went like this...
Her: question, question...poke...small talk about weather...prod
Me: answer, shrug...squirm...answer small talk...cringe
Her: another question...this will be cold...shove, tickle, poke
Me: answer, stare into light in ceiling...yikes...squirm, move, clench
Her: all done, question about family history..."You need a mammogram, please get dressed and schedule it at the desk on your way out"...walks out the door
Me: look in mirror and wonder what just happened, get dressed, go to desk, schedule mammogram, walk to other desk, pay bill (10% discount for paying in full! Whoo hoo!), walk out of clinic, get in car, freak the fuck out (I am only 27 and didn't expect to need the boob squishing experience for several more years!!!)
Crap! Is there a bright side? Um, no. So, yeah...on with life, I suppose.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Worst possible Monday!!!
This is now officially the worst Monday that I have had in a long time. Why? Well, here is today's two biggest pieces of news...
1) The doctor has ordered me to no longer drink pop. I can have one 12 oz can of soda a day! One! Not a bottle, not a fountain drink. Only 12 oz. No more than that. Ugh!!! I drink pop all the time. Everyday. At least one if not six. What the hell am I going to do now? I tried to stop drinking pop before and do you know how it ended up? With me craving it and drinking even more after only 6 days of going without!!! So, good news for my waistline (which by the way has continued to grow and I tell you that the doctor's scale cannot be right!!!) and even better news for my teeth (which are probably FULL of cavities no matter how often I brush). But the point is that this is bad news for my temperament. And that leads me to bad news number two...
2) My daycare lady just told me that she is quitting the daycare business!!! I have exactly 13 days to find a new one!!! I looked and looked for this one. I stressed about finding it. I cried about putting my kids in daycare to begin with and now...now...I have to do it all over again! Right before school gets out! Right when they will have to spend all day with someone other than me. How the hell am I going to go through all of this again? WTF! Can I just quit my job and go back to being home with them all the time? Please. I just can't handle looking for another daycare...again. The options in this town are very limited and I just can't handle this again!!!
I need a fucking pop. A pop that I can't fricking have because the stupid ass doctor thinks that it isn't good for me. Well, if she had to deal with me on a day like today for more than the ten minutes that she did, she would see that pop is a vital part of my life!!! Help!
I have to go get my kids from bowling, which by the way, they both started today. They are going to have so much fun!
So, trying to stay positive, here are the little things to be thankful for...
...dear hubby went to the bowling alley to sign the kids up so that I didn't have to take off more work.
...mom is taking Bubba to the doctor tomorrow to get his warts frozen off so that I can go back to my doctor on Wednesday and not have to take off work three days in a row.
...I don't have to cook tonight because older sis and neice are in town and we are eating dinner with them at my mom's house.
...I am alive. Thank goodnes..
Keep watching for those little things in your own life and I will try to stop sweating the small stuff.
1) The doctor has ordered me to no longer drink pop. I can have one 12 oz can of soda a day! One! Not a bottle, not a fountain drink. Only 12 oz. No more than that. Ugh!!! I drink pop all the time. Everyday. At least one if not six. What the hell am I going to do now? I tried to stop drinking pop before and do you know how it ended up? With me craving it and drinking even more after only 6 days of going without!!! So, good news for my waistline (which by the way has continued to grow and I tell you that the doctor's scale cannot be right!!!) and even better news for my teeth (which are probably FULL of cavities no matter how often I brush). But the point is that this is bad news for my temperament. And that leads me to bad news number two...
2) My daycare lady just told me that she is quitting the daycare business!!! I have exactly 13 days to find a new one!!! I looked and looked for this one. I stressed about finding it. I cried about putting my kids in daycare to begin with and now...now...I have to do it all over again! Right before school gets out! Right when they will have to spend all day with someone other than me. How the hell am I going to go through all of this again? WTF! Can I just quit my job and go back to being home with them all the time? Please. I just can't handle looking for another daycare...again. The options in this town are very limited and I just can't handle this again!!!
I need a fucking pop. A pop that I can't fricking have because the stupid ass doctor thinks that it isn't good for me. Well, if she had to deal with me on a day like today for more than the ten minutes that she did, she would see that pop is a vital part of my life!!! Help!
I have to go get my kids from bowling, which by the way, they both started today. They are going to have so much fun!
So, trying to stay positive, here are the little things to be thankful for...
...dear hubby went to the bowling alley to sign the kids up so that I didn't have to take off more work.
...mom is taking Bubba to the doctor tomorrow to get his warts frozen off so that I can go back to my doctor on Wednesday and not have to take off work three days in a row.
...I don't have to cook tonight because older sis and neice are in town and we are eating dinner with them at my mom's house.
...I am alive. Thank goodnes..
Keep watching for those little things in your own life and I will try to stop sweating the small stuff.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Where the hell did Spring go???
Am I wrong? It is May 2nd. Doesn't that mean that it's spring? WTF!!! This is what it looks like outside of my house this morning and let me tell you, it ain't pretty!! 
Yep. It's a blizzard! The power went off about a million times since yesterday morning and there is about 18 inches of snow on the ground at this moment. The Interstate is closed, schools are closed, every business in town is probably closed...so here we sit at home having a SNOW DAY AT THE BEGINNING OF MAY!!! What in the hell is wrong with this picture!?!?! 
When I woke up this morning (to the sound of the phone ringing---it was my mom telling us that schools were closed! Yeah, duh! I mean, thanks, Mom. We appreciate the heads up!) the dogs needed to get out to go pee. I opened the back door just to find that the screen door WOULDN'T OPEN!!! I couldn't get them to jump out through the window (although I really did try!!!) so we all got bundled up (at 7:30 in the freaking morning!) to go out and shovel a path for the dogs to get to their peeing area. Believe it or not, we actually had a lot of fun out there in the snow even though it was so deep that Teensy couldn't really walk, Bubba lost a glove and we not only had to clean a path for the dogs but we also had to shovel off the trampoline because the snow was so heavy and wet that the springs were stretched to capacity!!! Sucky!
The kids playing in the snow (above). Dear hubby getting out the shovel (below).
Yep. It's a blizzard! The power went off about a million times since yesterday morning and there is about 18 inches of snow on the ground at this moment. The Interstate is closed, schools are closed, every business in town is probably closed...so here we sit at home having a SNOW DAY AT THE BEGINNING OF MAY!!! What in the hell is wrong with this picture!?!?! 
When I woke up this morning (to the sound of the phone ringing---it was my mom telling us that schools were closed! Yeah, duh! I mean, thanks, Mom. We appreciate the heads up!) the dogs needed to get out to go pee. I opened the back door just to find that the screen door WOULDN'T OPEN!!! I couldn't get them to jump out through the window (although I really did try!!!) so we all got bundled up (at 7:30 in the freaking morning!) to go out and shovel a path for the dogs to get to their peeing area. Believe it or not, we actually had a lot of fun out there in the snow even though it was so deep that Teensy couldn't really walk, Bubba lost a glove and we not only had to clean a path for the dogs but we also had to shovel off the trampoline because the snow was so heavy and wet that the springs were stretched to capacity!!! Sucky!
The kids playing in the snow (above). Dear hubby getting out the shovel (below).
Here's my puppies...
Akira is so small that the snow covered her right up. She was so cold she was shivering!
Lasey hopped around in it like she was a rabbit! By the time we all went in, you would have thought she was a white dog instead of a black one!!!
So yeah, I guess that snowflakes are little things, right??? Just wait until you hear how I ruined dinner last night!!! For now I will be getting off this computer in case the power goes off again!!!
Keep looking for the little things!!! And send some Springtime sunshiny thoughts our way so that we can melt all of this white shit!
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