30 Days, 30 Ways

I'm doing it. Only because it's what all the cool kids are doing this November and because I've got so much free time on my hands and gallons of creative juices I need to funnel somewhere.

But seriously, I'm challenging myself to do this for real because let's just say, my blog postings have been a wee bit less than inspired as of late.

So Happy Halloween, and yay NaBloPoMo!!

Best Halloween Costume Ever.

It's called, "Has somebody got a case of the Mondays?" and The Geej came up with it all by herself.

Fierce.

Tyra Banks makes me wanna punch a bitch. In the throat. But I will hand it to her in 2 respects:
Girlfriend is curvy, which makes the rest of us with T and A feel okay about life.

and

She popularized the term "fierce' when describing a certain type of beautiful. A beautiful that is totally your own. Commanded by you.

Yesterday I went and spent $100+ that I do NOT have on my hair. I know it's superficial as hell, but fuck it: I was in the godforsaken hostpital for nearly a month, and my hair hasn't been tended to since mid-August. So I deserve it.

And I did something radical.

I cut it all off. And dyed it dark cranberry.

Witness: Fierce, Karla May style (i.e., I have on no make-up and I'm wearing my pajamas).

I know I will never EVER be able to replicate this look (Hell, I haven't put a blow dryer to my own hair in about 4 years), but still...

This was TOTALLY worth $100+ bucks.

I know, I know...,

I owe you a real post. Not some link-type thing or just a bunch a photos (that Blogger won't ever let me post anyway), but I'm busy doing the Saturday-domestic-o-rama with The Geej. So for now, I'll leave you with this:

A pole dancing kit. Complete with instructional video.

Fucking sweeeeeeeeeet.

My Christmas list for The Geej is now complete.

I really don't know what to say.

My mom has a subscription to "The National Enquirer". She's had one since the early 80s. (Of course she has. It makes such perfect sense it's almost ridiculous.) She brings them to Austin whenever she comes for a visit, and before throwing them in the recycle pile, I thumb through them of course. I am always, ALWAYS delighted by the ads. "Magic Blue Dot" anyone?

Anyway, I was sort of stunned speechless by two ads I saw in recent issues, and I had to share. (Sorry for the poor image qualilty. I don't have a scanner. So deal.)

I love the artist's rendering of the Teddy cutting one loose at a party. What a gas! Bwah ha ha!! I'm so taking this to the next fancy party I attend (because I attend so many...).

And then there was this:

Court room artists renderings of celebrity trials. You can get the real scoop on this waste of trees here. Yep. I now know what everyone in my family is getting from me for Christmas.

The end.

So I thought the Internet was done when I found this. But no. Because later I found this. I mean, why else could there possibly be a reason for the Internet to exist after these 2 sites, right?

And then today...

[Cue the harps and the angels singing as heaven opens up sound.]

This. (I should set up a damn PayPal account so you can tip me for the wonderful joy you will receive when you click that link. I mean damn. I give and I give...)

Okay. The Internet is officially closed for business. So sayeth Miss Wendy.

The Geej's Halloween Costume.

Because I just LOVE clowns AND Tie-dye, this is what my baby girl will be sporting this upcoming Hallow's Eve. Plus, I'm going to have her carry a "John 3:16" sign made out of posterboard to complete the ensemble. We're so going to bank with candy...

Out, out damn clothes!

Along with shopping for a new bathing suit and performing a pre-surgery bowel prep on myself, cleaning out/organizing my closets is one of my least favorite activities. When I moved into this house last November, I was too busy with the baby to do any pre-moving purging of stuff I don't wear/don't need. And that not only goes for my clothes, shoes, etc. I mean, I didn't throw anything away. I just moved it all, and I still have 1/2 a garage full of shit I need to get rid of because of it. But I digress...

So, the closets. When I moved in, I just threw everything I own into the two closets that are in the master bath and said, "Fuck it. I'll deal with it later." So this weekend, 11 months later, I finally did just that. Mom had The Geej yesterday, so I took advantage of it to do the closet purge/seasonal clothes switcheroo.

Here were my rules:
1) If it's a size 8 (or smaller), get rid of it. There's no way that my pushing-forty ass is ever going to see Size 8 again unless I get thrown back into the hospital for a month and drop another 20 lbs.
2) If it was purchased prior to 1995, it's gone.
3) If it looks like something Elaine would've worn on Seinfeld, bye-bye.
4) If it's got a hole in it--due to moths or something else--or some sort of other rip and you know your lazy ass is never going to get it fixed, adios.
5) If the store you purchased it from went out of business some time in the last millennium, consider tossing it.
6) Pit stains = automatic toss out.
7) No one needs more than 3 pairs of khaki shorts.

It took me hours. HOURS. I started at around 11am (yes, I had the Texas game on the bedroom television. Go Horns!!), and wasn't 100% finished until about 5:30. It wasn't just my closets though: I also cleaned out my armoire (good bye pantyhose drawer!!), my chest of drawers, and the two under bed storage thingies I had stashed under my bed. In the end, I had 4 bags of stuff for Goodwill and a pile of cute, tiny things set aside for my skinniest friend, Thelma Jane.

During my cleaning extravaganza, I ran across several things that are pretty fantastic:

This skeezy little number is from my Backroom/Black Cat/Steamboat days, when my hair was really long, and so was the hair of all the guys I dated. La Turista, do you remember this one? This thing has a low, scooped neckline that featured my boobs nicely, and it was form fitting, which was okay when my form was, ahem, more fit.

(I have photos of all of the following stuff too, but Blogger isn't letting me post them.)

I also found an aDORable short-sleeved, button-down sweater with embroidered flowers all over it!! It's SO me!! I'd wear this EVERY DAY if I could get away with it. It would go well with my lobotomy and my Botox injections. Too bad it doesn't really need a scarf to accesorize it because...

I found several scarves that were clearly from my as chair of the Texas Women's Republican Caucus and sold Mary Kay. Oh GOD! Not only can't I believe that I owned these ghastly things, I also can't believe I ever had--and wore--outfits that I thought they accessorized nicely. Ugh.

I also discovered 5 pieces of clothing that still had the tags on them from when they were purchased...well over a year ago. I'm so ashamed...

I also found this flippin' sweet t-shirt that said "I Love Soaps" on it, with a caricature of a pathetic looking Cathy-esque gal with a bow in her hair and big 80s Sally Jesse Raphael glasses. All in shades of neon yellow, pink and purple? I totally forgot I had it. I'm going to have to wear it to work tomorrow because it's true: I do LOVE my soaps. (But seriously, I wore this as part of my "Ugly American on Vacation" outfit I dreamed up for a white trash party some friends threw. I bedazzled it and went nuts with a glitter pen as well. It went nicely with my purple jogging pants, my "Puerto Rico" fanny pack, and my purple visor with a built in fan.)

With all of the crapola I DID find, I'm surprised I didn't find Jimmy Hoffa in my damn closet. I swear.

Here's how tired I am:

Yesterday was my 2 year blogiversary, and I didn't even realize it. So there was no self-congratulatory/reflective anniversary post which, I gotta say, is so unlike me.

I've been up since 3am, people. I'm having wicked insomnia these days. I haven't slept through the night but once in 2 weeks.

It's beginning to take its toll. The circles under my eyes are epic and I've got a headache 24/7.

I'll leave you with something clever The Geej said this morning during breakfast:
She was asking when she was going to get to see her beloved Dah again. My mom's actually coming for a Geej fix tomorrow, so I said, "Well, I think you'll get to see Dah tomorrow," to which The Geej replied, "Tomorning?" As in, "In the morning?" Brilliant. Tomorning should TOTALLY be a word.

That really hard meme that all my blogging buddies have been doing.

Now it's my turn, I suppose.

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
Karl Rove.

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be?
Toby Keith. Duh.

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
Paris "Lazy Eye/Stinky Crotch" Hilton.

4. What is your favorite cheese?
GOD that’s a hard one. Um…a really good chevre, like Pure Luck Farms.

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind will you make?
Leftover smoked turkey breast from Thanksgiving, lots of avocado, German mustard, iceberg lettuce, thinly sliced perfectly ripe Roma tomatoes, and Swiss cheese on lightly toasted whole wheat bread.

6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?
Viggo Mortensen.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who do you pick?
Howe Gelb. But I’d want strings attached.

8. Now that you've slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy crap, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it?
An exquisite meal at a really nice restaurant.

9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
Denver (to see Mr. Wonderful). I know. It’s sappy, but it’s true.

10. Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Now that you are in the new location, what are you gonna do?
Use it to supplement the rental of a really swanky hotel room for Mr. Wonderful and I for the night.

11. A demon rises out of Hell and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. It is...?
King Estate Pinot Gris

12. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you traveling to and what are you going to do when you get there?
1960s London. I’d become an English version of Chrissie Hynde—hailed as a music and fashion pioneer--and I’d somehow end up briefly married to David Bowie.

13. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
Everyone gets to sleep as late as they fucking want. And if you’re a “morning person” who wakes up at the crack of dawn and wakes others who are trying to sleep up, you get sent out to sea on a rickety raft.

14. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what's the premise?
It’s a show called, “You Want the Truth?” Really rich people who are surrounded by “yes men” all the time consult me and ask me the questions that they want to get a 100% honest, no strings attached answer to. The catch is, they HAVE to do whatever I advise.

15. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck. So simple. So versatile. So perfect.

16. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?
Ask them, “So…are we gonna party, or what?”

17. Your house is on fire! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don't worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what's the item?
I wish I had something really sentimental to say like, “My great grandmother’s wedding dress. She wore it as she entered Ellis Island.” But no. Sadly, it would probably be my computer hard drive. It’s got my entire iTunes library, every digital photo I’ve ever taken, and a lot of writing and personal documents on it.

18. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?
First 20 minutes: Put on my favorite music—LOUDLY—and have crazy sex with Mr. Wonderful. Next 8 minutes, huddle up with The Geej, Mr. Wonderful and my Mom and tell them how much I love all of them. Last 2 minutes, smoke a righteous bowl of weed and eat some Frito's and bean dip.

19. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What's it gonna be?
Teletransportation.

20. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
The first half hour I spent with The Geej. FINALLY meeting her—just the two of us in the orphanage director’s office on a horribly frigid December night in Russia. Holding her. Smelling her. Thinking to myself, “I can’t believe she’s real.”

21. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
Watching my father die.

22. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool stuff... you can move to anywhere else in the world! Bitchin'! What country are you going to live in now?
On a goat farm on the Cornwall coast of England.

23. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age. You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be?
Donn’s Depot.

24. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question.... If you did, then we'll just expand on that. Check it out... Suddenly, you have gained the ability to FLOAT!!! Whose house are you going to float to first, and be like "Dude, check it out... I can FLOAT!"?
Well, because he only lives about 10 houses away and would get a total kick out of it, I’d have to say my friend Chaz.

25. The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous-person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?
Gilda Radner

26. The Gates of Hell have opened, and Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person, etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?
My dad.

27. What's your theme song?
“But I Did Not” by Howe Gelb

If I won the lottery right now...

...I would hire a suicidal hit man. Send that hit man to flying school so he could get his pilot's license. Charter a leer jet. Invite K-Fed, Paris, "Firecrotch" Lohan, the Olsen twins, Tara Reid, that guy who founded "Girls Gone Wild," Diddy, and Kate Moss to an exclusive all-night coke fest at Hugh Hefner's private island near St. Bart's (sponsored by Astroglide and Camel Lights). I'd load their stupid, self-obsesseed, no-talent asses on to the plane (with faux paparazzi there to make them happy and feed their insatiable egos), then I'd have that suicidal hit man ram that plane into the sea at about 600 mph.

I'm going to buy ten quick picks tomorrow.

Too tired. Can't post.

Holy crap, today wore me out.

First of all, morning traffic. I kinda forgot how much it can suck. And with the rain? Extra crapalicioius.

Second, work. It was GREAT being back, but I've got SO much to catch up on. I feel like I'm the last guy leaving the starting line at the Boston Marathon. I'm never going to catch up. Ever.

Third, I got by on Advil only today. I was too scared to take the REAL painkillers (even though I sort of needed them during the afternoon) because I was afraid I'd fall asleep standing up like a horse.

Fourth, I spent the last hour at work on a conference call with a teammate and 2 attorneys going over each paragraph of a 22 page contract that we're hoping to enter with a new vendor. We only got to page 5. We resume at 9:30 tomorrow morning.

Fifth, I left at exactly 5pm and it took me 35 minutes to go 4.5 miles.

Sixth, it's 9:25 and The Geej is snoozing, I'm bathed and the house isn't totally filthy. So I'm going to bed.

Night night, peeps.

Scenes from the weekend.

Whew!

This weekend was a doozie!

Yesterday, we had attended La Turista's Olive's Princess-themed birthday party at the Children's Museum at 1pm. Yay cake!!Then we went to a fund-raiser/Halloween carnival/Biscuit Brothers show at 3:30. The Geej only got about a 35 minute nap, so by the end of the day, she was running on fumes. But it was fun nonetheless.

Today was spent playing around the house, doing laundry, running errands, doing more laundry, picking up after Hurricaine Geej, and then doing this:

I've written before about how I'm blissfully at the end of a long hand-me-down clothes chain for little girl's stuff. (That's what you get for waiting to have kiddos until AFTER all your girlfriends are done.) So what I do when I receive these bags of bounty is go through them and put them in storage bins out in the garage until their time has come (seasonally and size-wise). So today I decided to pull out the 2T/fall/winter stuff just for grins (wishful thinking right? It was about 135 degrees here today with the humidity...grrr...). So my living room quickly became covered in Geej clothes as I pulled everything out and got it organized and ready to be transferred into her closet and dresser if it ever actually gets cool enough to wear any of it. Man, was there come cute stuff in there!! Little coats and sweaters, Christmas dresses, pajamas, shoes and boots. We are really blessed.

Also tonight...drum roll...THE GEEJ WENT TEE TEE IN THE POTTY!! I know this is the most mundane, boring factoid ever for those of you who've never gone through the joy of potty training a toddler, but seriously: It's a big fucking deal. She's been using the potty sporadically at her new school, but never ever at home. Sure, she'll sit on it and dink around till the cows come home, but there's never been any results. Until tonight. I literally got tears in my eyes when it happened. I'm praying that we'll be potty trained by Christmas so that Santa can bring her a year's supply of big girl panties. Not having to buy diapers/pull ups will be like getting a damn raise.

Okay, tomorrow's the first day back at the office. I'm hoping I don't fall asleep at my desk come 2:30. Adjusting to a life without afternoon naps is going to be a challenge.

Happy Fwiday the Firteemf

Today was a good day. It was one of those crisp fall mornings that started out in the upper 50s with ridiculously blue skies. The Geej was in a good mood. And it was my last day of "freedom" before I head back to work on Monday. My last day of work prior to all this surgery sickness B.S. was August 29th. I am SO ready to go back. Not only for the paycheck (which I'm sorely in need of after unpaid medical leave for 6 weeks), but for the social aspect and to get my brain working again.

So here's how today went.

Took The Geej to school. It was cool enought that she got to wear her adorable new Old Navy hoodie. It was also the first day since starting at New School (which is what she's still calling it) that she didn't shed a tear or two when I left. YAY!!

Went to Whole Foods and shopped. There's nothing like shopping at 9:30 in the morning when you have the store practically to yourself. Managed to keep my bill under $75, which is saying something.

Came home. Read the Chronicle while kicking back in the hammock swing on the deck. Did I mention in was a beautiful day? Cuz it was fucking awesome.

Decided to FINALLY go see "Little Miss Sunshine." Was surprised it was actually still playing. Looked forward to having popcorn and Coke for lunch.

Decided to take 360 to the theater. Drove with the windows down and Tom Petty blaring on the stereo. I had one of those "GOD I love Austin" moments when I crossed the 360 bridge.

Got to the movie theater, and surprise, "Little Miss Sunshine" was actually no longer playing. So I decided to see the next random movie that was playing at that time, "Infamous." Having just read In Cold Blood for the first time this past spring, I was curious. What a tour de force of acting by the dude who played Capote. He made the rest of the impressive supporting cast look like a bunch of amateurs. Especially Peter Bogdonovich. He's NOT an actor. So why does he get cast in stuff and take roles away from actual acting professionals? Anyway, it was enjoyable.

Went to my favorite vintage store after the movie to buy a swag lamp. You know: one of those cheesy 70s lamps that hangs down from the ceiling. Why, you ask?

So I could finally complete the triumvrate of cheesy 70s swag lamps in the corner of my bedroom.

Got home; hung said lamp. Took about a 45 minute nap before going to get The Geej.

Came home and played outside with The Geej until dinner time. It was still gorgeous, and not hot at all. She was being hilarious, running around the back yard, squealing as only 2 year old girls can do, imploring me to "WATCH MOM!!" as she kicked balls around the yard.

Ate dinner and had a drama free bathtime and bedtime. And now it's time to go dump the Diaper Genie and watch my Tivo-ed episodes of "The Office" and "Grey's Anatomy."

Life is good.

Speaking of Thursday night TV, holy SHIT "My Name is Earl" was brilliant last night. The whole Randy/Cat Lady thing? And Amy fucking Sedaris? And the "Time After Time" montage with the boombox? Can we please just give them the Emmy right now?! And I am SO hot for Jason Lee and his white trash mustache and little belly paunch, I can't even tell you...

Overhang, part deux.

'Member back in July when I wrote about The Overhang? Well that was the mid-summer version. Now, may I humbly present you with the early autumn version of...THE OVERHANG! Now with more chubby goodness!

You know how when it's a cool day, and you open up your windows to let in the nice, fresh air, and sometimes that open window and the windowsill in front of it prove irresistible to certain fur-covered members of your household? Then, this happens:

And then you realize, "Oh man, look at the Overhang going on there!"

Exactly how big is this Overhang, you ask?

About this big:

Your boyfriend's truck.

So, I saw your boyfriend driving down the road the other day. It's cool what he's done with his truck.

Oh, you can't read what it says underneath that cool Calvin pissin' sticker (or whatever the Hell it is)? Let me interpret:

"If I shove that cellphone up your ass, will it make you drive any faster?"

Your boyfriend's a class act, let me tell ya. And smart too! I mean, putting that sentiment on his BACK window to complain about some hypothetical knucklehead who's in front of him is WAY clever.

His truck customization is nearly as cool as your brother's, who I saw today. Those 15" letters on his back window saying "GIT-R-DONE!" fucking rawk.

Vroom...vroom!

As Malcontent Mama said, Sunday she hosted the best birthday party ever for her oldest and youngest chirrens. (The oldest is actually her husband. I keed! I keed!) It was at every guy's/kid's dream: a race track next to the airport. I'm sad to say that the females were not represented in the racing posse (it was ALL guys), but we had baby wrangling to tend to and beer to drink, so there you go.

Okay, here they are. All suited up and ready to race. This is serious stuff, people. I mean they had to take like a half hour lesson and shit.


And here are the throngs of fans in the stands, captivated by the thrilling, speedy action on the track.After the race, the racers congratulate each other on a good run as the adrenaline pulses through their veins.

After the race, we all retired to the "lounge" because, you know, there was cake. And beer.

The littlest birthday boy likes cake.

And the bigger birthday boy likes the littler one just fine. Happy Birthday, you two!!

$89,324

That's how much my first bill from the hospital is for. That's JUST for the hospital. Not the doctors' consults, the radiology stuff, the surgery itself, the anesthesiology, etc.

Granted, this $89k amount hasn't gone through the insurance "process" yet (thank GOD I have insurance, or The Geej and I would literally be out on the streets), but still... When you open up a bill and see that amount on it, it's enough to give you a massive heart attack and put you BACK in the hospital.

Cripes.

Dispatches from Casa de Dah.

I'm at my mom's house. The Geej and I came up here for the weekend so that a) my mom could spend some quality time at her house that she's been at very rarely over the past 5 weeks of caring for my sick ass and b) so that I could still have some TLC due to my minor setback this week.

The flaming knives of pain? They're still present, but not as persistent. Instead of flare ups every 5 to 10 minutes, it's more like once or twice an hour. MUCH more tolerable. I think the serious "taking it easy" I've been doing over the past 48 hours and the hardcore drugs are to thank. I quit bending over, picking up anything heavier than a banana, and managed to lie around a LOT more than I'd been doing. I did get my PICC line out yesterday (as planned) which means that my 3-a-day IV antibiotics regimen is fini. YAY!! And I had that CT yesterday around lunchtime and never heard from my doctor afterward, so I guess there's no new abscess to contend with. DOUBLE YAY!!

Slowly but surely, life returns to normal. I cannot wait to be able to look back on this past month of shite and be like, "Remember how SICK I was?! And all the pain?! Well, THAT sucked. And yes, I'll have another martini, you darling cabana boy, you." Having all of this be a distant memory will be like a gift. I will tell you this, however: I will never, EVER take my health for granted again. I mean it. I'm a pretty damn healthy person. Don't smoke. Haven't eaten red meat in over 12 years. Not too fat. Drink in moderation. And yet STILL this seriously kicked my ass. I can't imagine how much worse and more lengthy it would've been if I hadn't been in good health to begin with. You've got to stay healthy in case something like this falls in your way. You've got to be ready to fight it. And it's not just for me anymore: The Geej needs me to be healthy. It's all been a very enlightening experience, I'll tell ya.

Also, I wanted to continue my "Enough already" theme from my previous post. Feel free to add to my list:

ENOUGH ALREADY...

...Mark Foley
...FOX "news"
...Paris Hilton
...Anna Nicole and that shyster lawyer Howard and all that paternity bullshit
...Iraq
...hot weather
...Carol Keeton Strayhorn and her "one tough grandma" shtick
...Kevin Federline
...my mom whining about not having a boyfriend
...potty training The Geej

Enough already.

So things were going along just fine. I got that damn drain out. I had an appt. with the infectious disease doctor who confirmed that yes, I could stop the IV antibiotics and get the PICC line out of my arm this Friday. I was able to sleep on my side--as opposed to flat on my back--for the first time in over a month. And yesterday, I had a stellar day, feeling good albeit a bit sore, running errands, requiring nothing stronger than a couple of Advil to deal with my pain.

And then last night at 4:35 a.m., the fun was over.

I don't know what happened. Maybe I rolled over in bed or some such shit. All I know is that I woke up screaming in pain. Not unlike I imagine I would if say...somebody were stabbing me in the side with a red hot fireplace poker. The area right underneath my healing (and SUPER gnarly looking) drain incisions was on fire. Literally. I mean, I couldn't catch my breath. I was lying there gasping in pain, crying and praying all at the same time.

"Dear God, please make it stop. Please no infection. No hernia. Please God no."

I managed to get up and get to a thermometer. No fever, thank ya Jesus. So, for the moment that ruled out an infection. But still, the searing, sharp and very specific pain that was making me see stars was NOT normal. What the hell was going on? I'd just had such a good damn day. Damn it all to hell.

So I took one Vicodin (my supply was seriously dwindling) and got back in bed. The pain would go away and then come roaring back. It didn't matter if I was lying totally still or moving around, seated or standing. Nothing was helping keep these flaming knives at bay. I tried to sleep with little success until Mom woke up. She and The Geej came in my room to wake me up, but I was already awake and crying. "Something's not right," I told her.

After we got GJ off to school, I talked to Mom: What the hell should I do? I didn't even know which doctor to call. I knew that if I called Dr. M, the colo/rectal guy, that I wouldn't be able to get in to see him. He would just immediately send me to get a CT scan and I'd never get to see him face to face or tell him what the fuck was going on. My infectious disease doctor, Dr. B., is just that: a scientist-y doctor, not a patient-y doctor. So no to that. So I opted to call the office of my gyno/oncologist, the one who did my initial surgery on 8/30 that got me into this fine mess. I felt like, at the very least, she'd see me out of some sense of guilt. I'm not sure if that's what did it, but I got in to see her within 2 hours.

She thinks it's "inflammation due to over extertion." In other words, I've been pushing it too hard. But she's not ruling out a recurrent infection/abscess in the drain site area, and--guess what--wants me to have ANOTHER CT scan tomorrow. This will be like my 150th CT scan in the past month. And at about $1,900 a pop, I know my insurance company is loving me. I may as well just drink barium every day just to keep it in my system...you know, just in case.

The upside to all of this? I got a new prescription to some fucking horse tranquilizer pain killers. Hooray! Also, when I got on the scales at the doctor's office today, I realized that I've lost 22 lbs. since August 30th. It's a helluva way to lose weight, but I'm happy that it's gone.

So yeah, I'm so damn sick of all this shit, I can't even express it. Mentally, I'm spent. I just WANT TO BE WELL!!! That's it. And as soon as I start feeling like, hey, maybe I'm actually getting well, I up my activity level and then end up in insanely painful Hell because I've "over exerted" myself. WTF?!

Oh, and want to know something beautiful? After my jaunt to the doctor was finished, it was lunchtime, and my mother insisted on going to the effing Cheesecake Factory. That's right: I'm writhing in pain every 5 minutes, but let's go sit down and have a nice long lunch. And hey Mom, why don't you order a bloody Mary while we're at it? Sure, I'm great over here on the other side of the table. Don't mind the clenched teeth and tears running down my face.

I feel like a lame racehorse that needs to be shot.

It's hard to choose...

...which photo of The Geej I should include with my "Mother of the Year, 2006" application.

There's this one:

Where she's running around in just a t-shirt and diaper, after having invaded my pantyhose drawer (will someone puh-leeeze tell me why the fuck I have a pantyhose drawer?) and pulling out lots of scarves to add to her outfit.

And then there's this one:

In which an empty box that once housed a case of vodka works very well as a hat to go with this smashing shirt + diaper + Mardi Gras beads ensemble. (BTW--the empty vodka box? Yeah, my mom brought that from her house in order to carry some stuff. We are one classy lot of ladies, I tell ya.)

And finally, there's this one:

That's when she had her black eye back in August. She was staying with my mom while I was visiting--sigh--Mr. Wonderful, and the dog my mom was dog-sitting at the time, tried to bite GJ's face but thankfully only nipped her cheekbone. The result was a perfect shiner. This picture (with that damn cheesy grin of hers) doesn't do it justice. It was TOTALLY CPS material.

So yeah...I'm gonna win this "Mother of the Year" contest. Hands down.

Drain, drain, go away...

Well, a big freakin' hallelujah is in order because that effing drain that's been hanging out of my mid-section for well over 3 weeks doing absolutely nothing (as far as I could tell) except for annoying the shit out of me and causing a helluva lot of discomfort is GONE!! That's right folks, it's a BIG step in operation "Let's Get Normal Up In Here." I'm still insanely sore in my abdomen, but this too shall pass.

Let's back up a bit, so I can catch ya'll up.

Julie got here late Friday night (I mean like REALLY late thanks to all kinds of road construction and road closures on IH-35. Thanks, TXDOT!), and we basically said, "Hi! Goodnight." Saturday was a good day. We played with The Geej all day (who was in a great mood and fell madly in love with Julie), and I felt pretty damn good for a change. Saturday evening, Bookhart came over, and the three of us sat out on the deck and chatted over a few beers. I even had 2 glasses of wine. Woo hoo! It was nice.

After Bookhart left, I took a shower and noticed this pretty sharp, pretty consistent pain in my right side, right beneath my ribcage. You know how when you get a "stich" in your side from running? That's what it felt like, but with searing swords added to it. Anyway, this pain just got worse and worse over the course of the night. By morning, I could barely get out of bed and could stand up straight when I did. Supreme suckage. I guess I'd just overdone it the day before because I felt so good. But anyway, Julie took over and totally entertained and took care of The Geej so that I could lie in bed and wallow in my painkiller induced stupor. Did I mention that Julie rocks? After I came to a bit, we took GJ to the park so she could burn off some energy. I'm sure we looked like GJ's two mommies out there, but whatever. After the park and lunch, Julie headed back toward Oklahoma. And by the time GJ and I woke up from our nap, Dah was back in the hizzie.

Last night was...drumroll...BOWEL PREP 2K7!! at Casa Karla May. I've become quite the connoisseur at the whole bowel prep thing, by the way, having done four different methods prior to different surgical procedures. Yesterday's offering was a new-to-the-market offering called "Osmoprep." (Take it from me: do NOT do this method if your doctor ever asks you to. Ask for something different. God knows there are enough different products out there that will make you crap your brains out for 12 hours straight to choose from.) Okay, here's what the Osmoprep involved:
4pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid
4:15pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid
4:30pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid
4:45pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid
5:00pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid

Sit around and wait for the severe cramping to begin. The instructions advised, "Remain close to toilet facilities." They weren't kidding.

9pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid
9:15pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid
9:30pm, take 4 pills with 8 oz. clear liquid

Spend the rest of the night, say till about 3:45am, running to the nearby "toilet facilities" about every 15 to 30 minutes. Hooray!

That's right folks: 32 pills

Oy.

So this morning, I went for the colonoscopy. I was pretty nervous about the whole idea of a camera going up my poop shoot, but believe me, the PREP for the damn thing was a ton worse than the procedure itself. I mean,they give you righteous drugs, and you don't remember a damn thing. I woke up a bit groggy and hungry as hell, happy that it was over. Here's what they told me: there is no perforation or leak in my bowel!! This is HUGE news, Internets. It's healed, which means that a major step to my recovery has been completed. Because they saw that there was no leak, they were able to pull that damn drain, and I am SO thankful they did that while I was out because it hurt like a motherfucker going in when I was fully conscious.

So there we are.

Wednesday, I go to an appt. with the Infectious Disease dude to see what he has to say. I'm due to finish my IV antibiotics by this Friday, so hopefully that plan won't have changed.

Keep thinking those positive thoughts, folks. I'm just now beginning to see the proverbial light at the end of this very long, very dark tunnel.

I can't wait until I have something more interesting and entertaining to write about than my damn colon.