I really debated over whether or not to write about this, but in the end, I just couldn't stop myself. What's a little humiliation between friends?
Hubby has been back east all week and will make it home in the wee hours tonight just in time to greet THD when he gets here tomorrow. But while he was gone, I had a little adventure of my own. ;-)
Back before the doctor cleared me for--er--moderate exercise, I was complaining a little bit about it to a friend of mine. Being the thoughtful person that she is, she sent me a gift basket with a bunch of "pamper-me" items---bath bombs, lotions, neat stuff like that.
And a little vibrator. Snarf.
Not being very familiar with those kinds of appliances (hey! no snickering in the peanut gallery!), Hubby and I had a big giggle over the name of it---The Screaming O---as we marveled over all the features ("Wow, it's got a strap to stick your finger in! Look! All you have to do is push on the bottom to turn it on! It's so small I could pick my nose with it! I could pick YOUR nose with it!)
Then we turned it on, stuck it under the sheet on the bed and laughed our heinies off as our dog kept pouncing on it and snarling in fury as she attempted to kill it.
We are easily amused.
I don't really remember what we did with it after that, and I was a little surprised to find it under the couch yesterday as I was picking up stuff before vacuuming. It had some teeth marks on it, so I suspect that somehow the dog had finally gotten a hold of it and dragged it under there to chew up. When it didn't fight back she gave up.
I stuck it in my pocket (didn't want the Little Guy to find it, because then I'd have to explain it, and he'd probably tell everybody at school and wouldn't THAT be embarrassing) and finished cleaning.
A couple of hours later I walked up to the mailboxes at the top of the road to get the mail. Ran into an elderly neighbor of ours who was walking her dog. I chatted with her for a minute and reached into my pocket for my mailbox key.
That Screaming O fell out onto the ground.
Not only did it fall on the ground, but it landed on the end where you turn it on and STARTED VIBRATING!
If that wasn't bad enough, my neighbor bent over and picked it up! While it was vibrating. I almost died.
She looked at it curiously and said, "I had no idea these came in blue!" Then she pushed the bottom and turned it off.
Before she handed it to me, she examined the teeth marks and said, "Looks like it's time to get a new one, Dear." I can't imagine what she must have been thinking (especially the teeth marks). Worse yet, I can't believe she knew that it came in colors and how to turn it off. I think I'm going to become a hermit. For the rest of my life.
This has been quite a week in our house! Lots and lots to smile about!
First of all, the Gilbert Unified School District Board met and it looks like Kevyn Barton will probably get to walk in the graduation ceremony with his classmates. My most heartfelt thanks to all of you who read my Asshat post and sent an email to the district in support of Kevyn. I'd like to think that it helped. You guys are the best!
Next on the list----very early this morning I went in to have a few more tests done on my heart to see if I need to have an electrical device implanted in my chest. I've really been stressing on this, and hardly slept at all last night.
Tried to keep a cheery attitude during the echo, but kind of dozed off for most of it. The machine puts off a lot of heat, and it was almost like being in a cacoon. Then the tech said, "Bear down really hard like you have a constipated bowel movement."
Huh? Are you serious?
"We need to see how your heart functions when you press down hard."
You mean like Elvis (who died on the pooper)?
He looked at me blankly. Ok, he was probably 10 years younger than I, and I was only about 7 or 8 when Elvis went to the Grand Ol' Opry in the sky. Tried to think of something relevant.
You mean like that mobster who burst a blood vessel on the crapper in The Sopranos?
His face cleared. "Yes. Just like that!"
Thank God I didn't rip ass. With my current diet that includes a boatload of fiber, he would have been REALLY sorry. My butt smells like a bunch of peanuts gone wild.
A couple of hours later I was completely flabbergasted when my cardiologist came into my room and said, "Congrats! All of your heart functions have regained normal levels!" Waaaa?
My resting heart rate is at 70 (down from 136), my blood pressure is normal, the echo showed good flow and no more electrical issues, and I have no blockages. The doc thinks that I must have had a virus that attacked my heart considering that the left side was only functioning at 30% a few months ago (but admits that a "virus" is sort of a catchphrase for "we don't know wtf went wrong for sure"). I'm no longer considered to be in heart failure.
If I hadn't been wearing that shorty little wrap-in-front-barely-covering-your-hooters thingy, I prolly would have jumped up and smothered the little guy in a huge hug (he stands about boob-high to my Amazonian self and I definitely could have poked his eye out) . Visions of Kim Cattrail in Porky's restrained me.
Instead I broke down wept uncontrollably. When my guys picked me up later at the hospital, Hubby cried a little as well.
Little Guy said, "Are you guys happy crying or sad crying? Can I cry with you too? Should I be happy or sad?"
I'll most likely need to continue the meds for the rest of my life. The hypoxia/oxygen deprivation/altitude thing is a completely separate issue and so I'll have to continue with the oxygen at night indefinitely and manage that with my family doc.
Now I'm celebrating with a bottle of scotch, a pack of cigs and a gram of cocaine. And bacon. I'm eating a pound of bacon. With cheese and butter on top. Just kidding. LOL
Thank you all so much for your loving emails and supportive comments during the last 5 months. We've been very very frightened about this whole crisis, and I can't tell you how much sharing this with you and your kind responses have helped me get through it. I mean it.
Last and certainly not least, we had our last conference about THD late this afternoon. He's all ours and will be arriving in a week. Bless his heart, he's already gotten a job down here. He applied online, had a phone interview, and they asked him when can he start? Hubby picked up the application for the details and faxed it, and they want him to start as soon as he's ready.
It's just a fast food place, but we're so impressed and delighted with his initiative.
THD has been so afraid that something will happen to mess this placement up, so I kind of caught his paranoia and didn't want to post too much for fear that it might jinx it (and you never know who is monitoring the blogosphere ala Dooce).
But now the date is set and he'll be joining us very shortly. Everything is in place---school, doc, therapist and probation (yes he's still on probation for running away). He's going to get here in the middle of our spring break so he'll get a chance to get acclimated and decide what color he wants his room painted and pick out his comforter and room accessories.
I know that's all very basic, and we need to address and be on top of all of his other issues.
But just for tonight we're going to bask in the anticipation of THD joining our family and feeling very blessed for so very many reasons.
Hope you guys have a wonderful weekend. Like I said before, you're the best!
I've always been a huge fan of RuPaul. Not only is he more beautiful than I am, but I like his message about loving yourself as you are and accepting others as they are, and if you hang onto your dreams anything is possible. Hubby, on the other hand---while he thinks Ru is a fabulous showman/woman---is a bit uncomfortable with drag queens in general. I think the gorgeous ones disturb him. I KNOW the "tucking" thing makes him cringe.
He likes drag queens of the Jack Lemmon/Tony Curtis variety. You know that they're really guys underneath and you'd never be drunk enough to take one home with you by accident.
So last week I was folding clothes in front of the tube and clicking to find something mindless to watch. I came across "RuPaul's Drag Race" on the Logo Channel which I've never seen before. Wooboy! It's a drag queen reality show contest that seems to be a mixture of Project Runway, Survivor, American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, America's Next Top Model and Queer Eye all rolled into one. I was fascinated.
The episode that I caught happened to be the "Girl Group" episode. The challenge for the contestants was to split into two teams, and perform (lip sync) a Destiny's Child song. They had to do everything----sew costumes, choreograph, use unfamiliar wigs and make-up (provided by the sponsor), etc within a limited time.
Hubby had been doing something manly out in the garage and strolled through the living room while one of the groups was performing their final product. "Whatcha watching?"
They're lip-synching, I said distractedly. And they had to make their own costumes from scratch. Aren't they beautiful?
He watched for a moment, agreed and went off to whatever destination he had originally been heading.
After the performances, RuPaul and the judges critiqued them. Then Ru asked each who they'd vote off the island.
I simply don't remember all the names, so I'm making them up. But it went a little something like this:
Ongina (ok I DID remember that name): Since I'm the team leader, I couldn't vote any of the other girls off. This challenge was my responsibility so I'll throw myself under the bus and vote myself off.
Cinnamon: I don't want to vote anybody off! I love everybody! I'd vote off Clara because she has immunity.
Clara: Do I have to pick somebody? I love everybody too, and I don't want anyone to go!
RuPaul: Yes you have to pick somebody. Who would it be?
Clara: Uh, uh. I guess I'd pick Shanelle. (Shanelle looks shocked) I'd pick Shanelle because she's so beautiful and talented and I know she's going to be fierce competition and will probably win, so if I HAVE to pick anybody I'd pick Shanelle. (turns to Shanelle) I'm sorry sweetie! (the two give each other a big warm hug and air kiss).
My mouth was just hanging open. A couple of minutes later, Hubby came through the living room on his way back to the garage.
Wait, wait, you have to see this! I rewound that portion of the program.
After it was done, I said, Can you believe how caring and supportive they were instead of clawing each other's eyes out?
"I wonder where they found so many kind girls, " he replied. "They're not like those ferocious b*tches on The Bachelor".
snarf.
I didn't have the heart to tell him they were doods. ;-)
Well at least not for a couple of days. ________________ Weee! I found a clip of the performance. The whole thing is about 5 minutes long and it's near the end.
I used to think that eyeballs were the creepiest thing in the world. Now after my foray into heavy-duty diuretics and the world of public restrooms, I've changed my mind.
It's a toilet seat that's been warmed up by someone else's bare butt. Aiighhh! ------------------------------------------------------ I've been putting together a rotating chore schedule for when THD gets here (Little Guy is thrilled that someone else will get to take a turn emptying the dishwasher) and it occurred to me that this "citizen of the household" thing is kind of stupid. The theory behind it is that since we all contribute to the mess in communal areas (we all eat, track in dirt, generate garbage, etc) as opposed to personal messes (the only one who cleans Hubby's bathroom is Hubby), we all take turns cleaning it up as "citizens of the household".
This is something we've done as soon as the guys were big enough to empty a bathroom-sized trashcan, so it's nothing new. I've never been June Cleaver---following my family around with a Hoover.
I realized that all the guys (even Hubby) expect effusive thanks and praise when they've taken their turn, as if they're doing me a huge favor. Has anybody ever said, "Thanks Hon for doing a nice job on the dishes"? No. But if I'm not there with the "atta boys" I get treated to pouts and pointed silence.
You've come a long way, Baby! Not! What have I done? Aiighhhh! -------------------------------------------------------- A few weeks ago I reached under my pillow to pull out the end of my nose hose (I tuck it in there to keep it from falling on the floor) while I was getting ready for bed. My hand closed around something crackly and I pulled out a ginormous squirming spider.
Now I have to tear the entire bed apart every single night before I get into it. Aigggggghhh!
Yesterday a friend sent me a really funny website. I think its been around for awhile (tons of readers and contributors) but it's the first time I've ever seen it. Wasted about an hour on it laughing my heinie off.
It's called "F*** My Life", and no, not safe for children. People write in anonymously and tell about an awful experience they've had and readers vote about the horribleness of it all.
A few cringeworthy and funny ones that caught my eye?
"Today, I was a TA for a history class and the class was taking a test. About halfway through, I noticed one kid had a small piece of paper in his hand. I ran up the row, grabbed his test, and ripped it into four pieces. Then I took the note from him. It said "I believe in you, -Mom." FML"
"Today, I went to get a condom because my boyfriend and I were going to have sex for the first time. When I opened the drawer, I saw that every single condom had a Jesus pin stabbed through it, and a note on top of the box: "love mom." FML"
"Today, my brother joked that our dog was more attractive than I was. I looked to my mom for support, and she said "Well, she is pure bred." FML"
I think I'm going to save this just for bad days. Then I can be reminded that somewhere out there, there is somebody having a crappier day than I am. ;-)
My FML moment(s)? There have been plenty, but one stands out:
When I was in high school, I was in the cast of Grease. We were having a dress rehearsal, and some classes from the middle school came over to watch. During the slumber party scene when the character "Marty" was singing "Freddie My Love" I slipped off the bed during a tricky bit of choreography. The audience roared. I thought it was because of that impromptu bit of sketch comedy. It wasn't.
My jammie pants had caught on a bolt that was holding the footboard together and had gotten yanked down a bit.
I really debated over whether or not to write about this, but in the end, I just couldn't stop myself. What's a little humiliation between friends?
