Spoiler Alert: I Still Have Both Feet.

February 10, 2009

It’s not that I don’t have stuff to tell you friends. I’m not even secretly addicted to a video game(for once). I just have not had the solid time to give you all the attention you deserve. It’s no excuse really…Just remember though, if you really need a crse fix, click the sidebar for my twitter link. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think twitter is “better” than you or anything. It’s just quicker. Kind of like you are my betrothed and twitter is just a friend with benefits. I like to plan our time together, but I can just hook up with twitter when the bar closes. But today friends, I thought I’d post to tell you I’m turning over a new leaf.

I had a little health scare last week. My feet wouldn’t warm up one night and because I was in the throes of insomnia, I forgot that the problem could be related to tramping through snow in soggy shoes for ten hours (off and on of course) for the first time in ten days. (Because friends, much of my job involves cold sogginess in the winter). I decided I must have diabetes and that my feet were going to need cut off. Now loyal readers know my issue with having stumps (or as they are more delicately known, nubbins), and are probably aware of my fear of karmic retribution. Still, I don’t think I shared the shock of my most recent realization.

Let me preface the realization by making sure that we are all on the same page. Can we all agree that there are some people in the world that are fetchers and some that are fetchees? It’s best when the fetcher and the fetchee are together (like Gill and I). (Obviously, I am the fetchee.) I’ve always believed that karma would not allow me to be in a wheel chair because it always seems like folks who are in wheelchairs are fiercely independent and like to do everything for themselves. Since I’m only grudgingly independent, I figured that karma wouldn’t punish me in that way. Then, it happened. I met a person in a wheel-chair who was a textbook example of a fetchee. Just about the time I realized we couldn’t be friends because her fetchee status trumped mine and I was not about to become her fetcher (don’t judge me friends. We all have our character limitations, I just try to be more honest about mine on here), I realized that if a fetchee like her could end up in a wheelchair, well then so could I.

So back to last Tuesday night. I kept checking my feet in the bathroom and couldn’t decide if they were dark pink from squishing them to assess for numbness or because they were starting to turn black because of impending diabetes rot. (yes, that’s a little flash of my ignorance surrounding the disease) At one point, I noticed dark spots behind both my ankles. They almost looked like bruises but didn’t hurt. I was alarmed enough to want to wake up Gill to see if he had the same dark spots. I played that tape through and realized he would just yell at me and probably wouldn’t offer the extensive examination and reassurance that I was looking for. Instead, I got up and WebMDed the problem. Turns out there really is no such thing as diabetes rot, and after a brief thrombosis scare, I figured out it was probably just cold.

Yes indeed, the incident scared me friends. I’m changing my ways for real this time. Maybe that means I’ll blog more too!

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This is a “responsible blogging only” zone.

July 18, 2008

Ever the slave to my readership, I actually engaged in a bit of paparazzi behavior for the first time today. Being that it actually involved some clandestine high speed chasing as well as some extremely discreet shadowing, I have to confess, the experience was kind of an adrenaline rush. Then, when I saw the quality of the photo I knew exactly how the photographers who believe they’ve got Pulitzer Prize winning shots feel.

Friends, what I am about to present to you may seem shocking. In fact, for a while I was not even sure if it would be appropriate for my blog. (and you KNOW we are pushing the envelop of decency if it crosses the line here at the crseum) However after debating the journalistic merits of the photograph, the context in which the image would be presented and my duty to bring truth to my readers, I have decided to move forward.

I did try to mask her identity but do you recognize who this is? It’s HER!
I felt I had a duty to all those readers who believe me when I tell these odd stories. No she was not artistic license. She was not a cheap attempt at low brow humor. She really does exist. Yes, today was a good day friends…..


I heart my in-laws!

July 22, 2007

Well folks, we are back from the spreading of the ashes of the guy we never met, and let me tell you…its been a long strange trip. Do you know what is worse than not have internet in the mountains? Having constant live blog fodder and being powerless to blog. Ah well, at least I can offer you a retrospective in dashes:

– We stayed with gill’s aunt M and Uncle J. Aunt M did not seem happy to meet me but did tell me soon after to ignore the mess because “we might not be clean here but we are happy” (it really wasn’t that dirty at all)
– Her words actually made the whole stale cigarette smoke/really strong cat piss smell seem more pleasant than it normally would have been. Im not joking. (I think it only smells that way because they have three cats)
– Apparently, it is not customary in the clan of Gill to offer food or drink to anyone over the age of five, no matter how long you are planning on staying. Food is served at meal times but nobody offered me beer ever. I got one beer all weekend. The gill clan is totally a byob clan.
– Aunt M vacillated between totally awesome and a mean spiteful harridan. As you all know, this is exactly what I look for in a mother figure so I was right at home.
– Until she made me eat a raw onion.
– Yes you read that right.
– She made me eat a raw onion.
– She was like kryptonite to my pickiness powers. Id never experienced anything like it. And correct me if Im wrong faithful readers, but Im pretty sure Ive never wanted to punch a senior citizen before either. So that’s two first for crse right there….
– We slept in the family camper which was parked in the driveway. We shared these accommodations with Gill’s niece and nephew. I had thought it a bit unpleasant the first night as my pillow ratio wasn’t good and there were blanket issues (plus peeing outside).
– I felt particularly at home with the gentlemen who ended up being my Drunk Old Men Posse (DOMP) ( most of gill’s uncles and older male cousins). There were points throughout the trip when I was positive they were the only ones who liked me. (despite the byob crap)
– Turns out the first night was a fucking five star hotel compared to the second night which involved me needing to pee five times, the turnip waking up shrieking for an hour and a half at four am and the foul odor of sauerkraut that permeated the whole trailer because someone left a used crockpot right outside one of the windows. (I know that makes no sense. The weekend was kind of like that.)
– Gill completely bailed on me Friday and stayed in the camper until 530 with a “headache” leaving me completely alone with a group of people who knew me only as the woman who kept gill away from the family for 13 years. The DOMP spent a good deal of time during the day at some sort of “man club”. I missed them sorely.
– By 530 Friday, the only people being remotely pleasant to me were my father in law and a stinky cousin of gill’s who would have been somewhat attractive if he didn’t have that raging stench.
– Stinky has two iguanas and spent a great deal of time graciously attempting to enlighten me about these fantastic little wonders of nature.
– Im really scared of iguanas now.
– Stinky’s stench (or what gill and I now refer to as “the taint”) lingered in the oddest of places. I am still getting whiffs of it here and there. Its very disturbing.
– Kojak and Dolly both came through for me Friday evening. It was nice to have a relatively sober contingency.
– By Saturday I was talking trash playing cards with the DOMP and exchanging addresses and emails.
– I was also getting good gossip from Aunt M and the rest of the girl cousins.
– I developed a full scale loathing for a smarmy rotund man who thankfully was not related to “us” . I was excited to hear everyone secretly dislikes him too!
– The memorial on Saturday consisted of us all walking over to a tree and having the wheelchair bound aunt toss ashes from the dead uncle onto the tree. It was kind of odd because the ashes kept kicking up and she ended up getting them all over her. She did not seem bothered by this.
– I went from being ok with my own uncles to having two totally favorite uncles in law.
– My absolute favorite Uncle patted my ass when I left. He was drunk of course. I took this as a clear symbol that I had been accepted into the tribe.
– How can I not feel at home with anybody (read: my favorite uncle) who sets up a picture like this?


Thirteenless Thursday

March 22, 2007

Sometimes I wish i could just bring you into my living room friends. I am sitting here watching my family. Gill is reading Wikipedia and listening to some whacked out ancient music. Norman was engaging in a very slow interpretive dance to the music until he realized that everytime he touched the turnip in any way the turnip would get pissed and shriek. Needless to say this was too fascinating a phenomenon to pass up. So now Norm is demonstrating this by touching various parts of the turnip and making him scream. Part of me thinks I should stop this behavior but part of me finds it completely adorable hearing his little sick voice say “now watch what happens when i touch his butt mommy……{shriek from turnip}….he screams….now watch when i touch his head…{shriek from turnip}……he screams….” (yep Norm is feeling much better)

A very sweet and interesting thing happened at supervision tonight. My little friends got together and bought us an olive garden gift certificate as a way of offering condolences. I am so delighted by this because just a few months ago, several of us were discussing what to do about a friend who experienced two losses very close to each other. I said it was a shame we couldn’t get her something she could use instead of another dish garden or other plant. I suggested a gift certificate as well and a few of us had a joking discussion of the ramifications of “Im sorry about your loss, please take this wal-mart card as a symbol of comfort from all of us.” My friends said this would be tacky and I said I would be delighted to get such a thing. Sure enough, tonight they gave us a lovely gift card with condolences and warm wishes written right on it. So here are the thank you note ideas that are cracking gill and I up but are way too inappropriate to share with my friends.

“Thank you so much for your thoughtful and generous gift. With every bite of our olive garden meal, we will wrap ourselves in the warmth of your comfort like the breadsticks wrapped in the deep burgandy napkin.”

“We chose to go during never ending pasta bowl season as it represents the never ending bond between ourselves and our loved ones, despite the separation of death.”

” Just as the soup salad and breadsticks are endless, so was my mother’s love. Thank you for allowing us to honor her memory in such a fashion.”

“As we experience the heavenly olive garden tiramisu, we remember that my mother is also in a place of heavenly pleasure.”

I think you probably guessed this but Ill just clarify. Iced cookie Guy did NOT contribute to the condolence fund.