Hey Asshole: Commuting with Meg Kra - Hand Gestures

My special kind of hand gesture is quite terrifying to all involved except for me.  I find it quite funny.  I discovered it a couple years ago when I found myself very stressed out and easily raged by the items (cars, people, idiots) on the road.  So I decided to try an experiment.  One that would display my rage and disgust to the drivers around me while also relieving my stress.  Now remember, DO NOT try this on the street.  I am an experienced psychopath and have been practicing this for years.  You can follow along and try each step.  Practice in front of your computer.  Once you feel comfortable doing that, try practicing on the people around you including your loved ones and coworkers.  I practiced a lot on The Smooch.

So here you go, my special kind of hand gesture goes something like this.  Sometimes I like to improvise a little but the basics go like this.  Someone cuts you off, is texting or whatever.  Do this.  Look in their general direction.  You can try it now.  Are you doing it?  Now raise your eyebrows and make your eyes wide and big like you are completely shocked.  You got it so far?  Ok.  Now pull your mouth into the biggest, widest smile you can.  I like to open my mouth a little.  Make sure you can see your pearly whites.  Ok.  So your eyes are big and wide and your mouth is smiling bright.  Now here is the pièce de résistance.  Now raise your hand, don't forget to hold tight onto the steering wheel with the other hand.  Spread all five finger as big and wide as you can.  Got it?  Now wave.  A good side to side wave.  Once you get this down, you can practice making your eyes, smile and wave bigger as you go.  The bigger, the crazier you'll look.

That's it.  So just remember.  Big wide, eyes, mouth and wave.  I find that when people see me doing this, they get the hell away from me.  They take one look at me, assume I am crazy and starting switching lanes to get away from me.  Flipping someone off is easy.  But it often is ignored or just makes the other driver mad.  My technique insures that they notice me and then they get the hell away from me.  No one wants to cut off a crazy person.  They are a ticking bomb waiting to go off.

I know this technique sounds a little crazy.  I know what you are thinking.  Will that really work?  What if the person thinks I am waving at them because I know them.  If you do it correctly, they will get the correct message.  I know this from first hand experience.  Once The Smooch and I were driving on the freeway.  He was following me, I can't remember why we were in two cars.  But as he passed me, he slowly turned to me and did the above technique.  My blood went cold and I unconsciously slowed down to get away from him.   I felt that look deep down in my colon.  Mission accomplished.  Don't believe me.  See the example below.

The bandana is to protect my secret identity.

The hat is to protect you from my unwashed hair.

My favorite decade was...

I have written a couple blogs in the past for "Finish The Sentence Friday."  Well, I think I'll try it again this week.  This week's topic is "My favorite decade is..."

 

 

Which is my favorite decade?  I have had the pleasure of living through 3.3 decades.  I am not sure that the first one really counts.  I was born in 1980.  I don't really have any memories of the first half of the decade.  I assume the 80's was a great decade for me.  No responsibilities, everything I needed was given to me, I was a kid, what's not to love.

 

The 90s were similar.  I admit, I had a lot of great moments in the 90s. It did bring lots of great milestones like becoming a teenager, getting to drive, graduating high school and going to college.  But I wouldn't consider that my favorite decade.

The 00s (what do we call them?) was okay.  I graduated from college in 2002 and tried to find my first "real" job in the field that I spent the last four years studying.  That never happened and still hasn't.  I did find a job but it was one that I got because my mom worked there.  I ended up buying a house near my home town because I was in love.  What a crock!  I lived in that house for four miserable years 45 minutes from any type of social activity, 45 minutes from my job and 5 minutes away from my ex-boyfriend and my parents.  So that wasn't really a great decade.

I think maybe my favorite decade is the current decade, the 10s (again what do you call it?)  In 2010, I bought a house in the big city.  I was close to where I worked and there was tons of social activities nearby.  I had different plans every night.  But I think, more than that, that this was the decade where I started to really be comfortable with myself.  I spent the last half of the 00s being mostly by myself.  I lived alone, in a small town where everyone was married and had kids.  To make matters worse, it was a partially dry town.  You could buy beer at the Krogers but there was no where to get a drink served to you.  No wonder I was miserable.  But when you spend a lot of time by yourself, you can really start to figure yourself out.  I don't want to get all psychological on you, but I think it is true.  I spent those years getting comfortable in my skin, figuring out who I was, and overall being okay with myself.  So when I got to the 10s, I was ready to really start living.  Plus I turned 30 in 2010 (20+10 = 30 yeah.)  I think my 30's has been the best years yet.  I feel that in my 30's, I have become most comfortable with the person that I am, more self confident.  I don't really care what other people think.  If you don't believe that, you don't regularly read my blog.  Also, in my 30's in the 2010s, I met The Smooch and we got married.  I know what you are thinking, love and hearts and fireworks and crap.  And okay, maybe some of that. 

But let's be clear, The Smooch is not always the easiest guy to live with.  He wants me to be the best person I can every day and he let's me know when I am not living up to that standard.  The short version is that he makes me a better person.  When this happens, rainbows come out of his butt and fireworks come out of mine.  Oh, isn't love grand.  But life wasn't completely easy.  Some of my most difficult and most stressful times of my life happened in this decade.  But it makes a huge difference when you have a great support system backing you up.  And each time, The Smooch and I went through a tough time, we came out on the other side better people and a stronger couple.
 



So to finish the sentence "My favorite decade is...." 2010s!  I am feeling really good about the person that I am.  Life is very good.  I am very happy that The Smooch is in my life.  We have a great life together.  We live in a great house, in a great neighborhood.

Untitled - I just don't have the energy to think of one.

I want to preface this blog with this.  I am making fun of myself.  This is meant to be funny.  Please don't call me to see if I am okay.  I AM OKAY.  If you see me in the streets, do not give me hugs.  I repeat NO HUGS.  No pats on the back.  Just in general, try not to touch me.  This is a rule always.  I am fine.  Do not contact me unless you have a job for me, you want to give me money, or you want to hang out just because you are my friend.

So here's the deal.  On Tuesday I got laid off.  LAID OFF.  This doesn't happen to people like me!  Oh my friends I am here to tell you that "yes, it does in fact happen to people like you and me."  I got the news late in the day and was home by 4:00 on the sunniest, warmest day of the year so far.  It was like 70.*  I got home.  The Smooch isn't home only the housekeeper.  Don't judge me.  Yes we have a housekeeper.  I know, I know, we don't have any kids so we should be able to keep our house clean.  But because we don't have any kids we can afford a housekeeper (or at least we could.)  The housekeeper takes one look at me, gives me the biggest and best hug ever and immediately texts The Smooch to tell him it is time to come home.  I go to find liquor.



Day 1 - I am crying in this picture because it seems my gray hair is back. 
Guess I better get the permanent marker out.

When The Smooch comes home, he finds me standing in the kitchen drinking warm southern comfort.   I admit I drank. More than I probably should.  And by that I mean three whole drinks.  WHAT!  Shocker.  I told him that I knew I needed it because I couldn't taste it. I told him that I had a few plans of action on how to save and raise money.  They are listed below in no particular order.

Day 1 - Unemployment has not been good to my hair.

• I could sell my body for sex.  But first I would have to shave my legs.  I would donate the hair from my legs to locks of love, because that stuff is starting to get scary long.

• I could be a lounge singer.  The Smooch said that would probably cost me money, what with all the lawsuits from all the traumatized people.

• I could harvest the dogs kidneys (one each is three total) and sell them to some rich family who had a rich kid who needed a kidney bad.  I think this might be high dollar idea. 

 

Day 1 - I switch from whiskey to Mt. Dew. 
This may be a bigger mistake.

• I would live off my comedy skills.  My blog and my improv.  I would do that full time.  The Smooch reminded me that neither of these things actually pays any money.  Well, I'll do them like they are my full time job because I just don't have anything else to do.  Also, going forward, I will need to you to mail $5 dollars to my house every time you read my blog.  Love ya, thanks!

• I told him we would probably have to get rid of the housekeeper.**  I continued with telling him how I have already talked to the dogs about not making any more messes. They had agreed to wipe their feet when they came in and they agreed that they could stop peeing and pooping in the house until I got a job again.*** (At this point both me and at least one dog had some whiskey in us.)

I have had very few stop me in my tracks type events happen in my life.  This was one of them for about an hour or two.  It is amazing how many things that you can feel at one time.  Part of me couldn't breath, part of me couldn't talk (a first for me), part of me wanted to throw up and part of me wanted to fall down.  Part of me couldn't stop shaking and part of me wanted to pass out.  Part of me was laughing hysterically and part of me was about to go postal.  I told The Smooch that for his own safety, he should probably stay out of arms reach because I just couldn't prevent what would happen next.

 

Day 2 - I refuse to get out of bed.
My hair has a life of it's own.
The Smooch makes me shower.

The first two days were the hardest.  The Smooch works from home and he had a HUGE deadline.  This meant I had to keep quiet and out of his way.  This was a rough two days.  But today is the beginning of day three.  The Smooch's deadline has passed and overall, the stress level in the house has gone down.  I also remind myself that it could be worse.  I could be unemployed and hanging out with Aunt Biv.

But the good news is that not only do I have the time to work on my blog, I believe I may find something exciting to write about.  I am not going to take this lying down.  I am going to be doing stuff.  I am not unemployed, I am on vacation.  And the best kind of vacation because it is a vacation where I don't have to worry about checking in at work.  No work stress just me and The Smooch.  This is where I should interject.  Take a good look at The Smooch because you may not see him again.  He works from home and having us both in the house all day, every day is certain to lead to the death of one us.  Now I am off to the eye doctor (got to get their while I have insurance) and then off to the spa.

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*Actual temperature is reading 45 degrees Fahrenheit but after so many negative, close to zero and days in the 20s, it feels like summer.  In fact, I left the house without a coat it was so warm.

** We are not getting rid of the housekeeper.  I would give up food before I would give up that woman.  If there was a fire in our house and I could only save one person, it would be a tough call between the housekeeper and The Smooch.  I'm just say'n.

*** This arrangement lasted 16 hours before one of them forgot and pooped on the floor.  Guess that dogs gets to donate two kidneys. Just kidding, don't call PETA.  I am not going to donate my dogs kidneys.  I may however have to start eating their food since we can no longer afford people food.

And It Burns, Burns, Burns, The Ring of Fire, The Ring of Fire - Part 2

Continued from And It Burns, Burns, Burns, The Ring of Fire, The Ring of Fire - Part 1

This is probably the part of the blog where I should tell my male friends and relatives to stop reading.  If you are sensitive or easily offended stop reading.  Just stop.  Trust me on this one.  You may not want to read past this point.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

So I want you to take a minute to reread the title of this blog.  Ladies I think you may know where I am going with this.  Sometimes when a girl takes antibiotics, she suffers from what is known as candidiasis.  I also had to Wikipedia it after I saw it as one of the side effects on the antibiotic.  I can't say it, you know what it is.  I just posted a Wikipedia link.  Just look it up, then you don't have to read this blog.  Don't make me say it... okay fine, I'll say it.  I had a raging yeast infection, which I nicknamed Biv.  Yes I named my yeast infection.  Why you ask?  Because saying and thinking burning, itchy vagina a hundred times a day get's old.  If men think about sex once every seven seconds, then I was thinking about Biv seven times every second.  I've had yeast infections before but this one put those to shame.  At first, it felt like just a small irritation.  Like maybe I used the wrong soap or something.  Then the burning really set in.  The collapse me where I stand, heat of a thousand suns lasted 5 whole days.  Those 5 days suddenly seemed so much longer than the previous 6 weeks with a head cold.  Suddenly my mucus baby didn't seem so bad.  The burning was awful.  The itching was so bad.  I couldn't sit down.  I didn't want to put on pants.  If my life had a sound track, then Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys and Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon would be playing in the background.

I finally called my doctor and explained to my doctor's assistant that not only did I have severe diarrhea, but I also had a raging case of Biv.  She said she would talk to the doctor and someone would be in touch with me on what I should do regarding my prescriptions and my many side effects.  I again said to her, I don't think you understand the severity of my situation.  I can't sleep because the burning wakes me up, I can't sit in meetings because the heat in my pants is too much.  I need some sort of solution.  She started with "well try not to scratch it." Honey, that ship has done sailed!!  She then suggested a cold compress.  I ran to the freezer.  When I put that ice pack on my flaming lady parts, the angels sang.  Sweet release.  The Smooch tried talking to me but I couldn't hear him.  Not over the sizzling of my cooling woo hoo*.

While I was waiting for the doctor to call back, I looked up some home remedies to try.  One of them included douching with warm water and yogurt and the other included putting garlic in cheesecloth, closing with a string and then shoving the whole thing up your woo hoo!  I think if I tried that, I would yell Woo Hoo when I did it.  Must be why I call it that.  PS.  I did not try either of these home remedies.  I thought they both sounded too scary.

My doctor finally called back after what seemed like weeks but was in reality only a few hours.  With Biv nagging me all day, time seemed to slow down.  When the doctor called back, I was at the dollar store.  Work is collecting items to take to a local homeless shelter and my coworker and I had ran to the dollar store on our lunch hour to pick up a few things.  That of course is when my doctor called.  He is talking to me about my diarrhea.  I interrupted and said, listen doc, that is not what I am concerned about.  I told the nurse about a second symptom.  That is the one that concerns me.  I told him I was trying to be a little discreet since I was at the dollar store and standing next to my coworker.  He said and I quote, "So what you are saying is that you are embarrassed to say that you have an itchy vagina.  There is nothing embarrassing about an itchy vagina.  You should say it loud and say it proud.  I HAVE AN ITCHY VAGINA!!  If you are at the dollar store, there is a good chance that you are not the only one there with an itchy vagina."  My doctor thinks he is funny and normally I would say he is.  Ok, I admit it was a little bit funny hearing my doctor scream at me over the phone ITCHY VAGINA, ITCHY VAGINA, ITCHY VAGINA.  I also admit that it was a little embarrassing.  My face was so red and my co-worker kept looking at me like I might be crazy. I think I may have cried a little.  Partly because I was laughing so hard and partly because I think a little bit of my soul may have just died.  So after his little Tourette's episode he told me to stop taking the antibiotic and he would call something new into my pharmacy to help with my ITCHY VAGINA!

I called The Smooch and asked him if he could pick up my prescription.  I had some plans after work and wouldn't get home before the pharmacy would close.  The Smooch said he would be happy to pick up my prescription.  I told him that this was very important.  His reponse was that he wasn’t an idiot and could handle picking up one small prescription.  But when I got home for the evening, The Smooch admitted that he had gotten busy and hadn't picked up prescriptions.  The fire in my woo hoo boiled up and came out my ears.  It was too late to pick it up now.  I would have to wait until the pharmacy opened in 12 hours.  12 HOURS!!  Are you f*ing kidding me.  The argument that ensued was pretty nasty.  The words burning, itchy vagina came out of my mouth over and over and over again.  I am sure the repeated description of the way I felt was punishment enough for The Smooch.  This was the closest we have ever been to divorce.  This is also the closest that I have ever been to pulling my husband’s testicles out through his ears.  And ladies I think not picking up my yeast infection medicine is reason enough to file for divorce or maybe even reason enough for murder.  I told The Smooch to apologize to Biv.  Biv and I forgave him but we didn't forget.  Oh no we did not.

I thought that I could survive the night.  I was wrong.  Biv was really starting to get on my nerves.  She just wouldn’t stop nagging me.  So at 10:30 pm at night, in a level two snow emergency, The Smooch and I headed out to the grocery store.  Yes I made The Smooch go with me.  This was his punishment for not getting my prescription.  We only live about a block from the grocery store so we headed out on foot.  We walked through the worst snow storm of the year.  We probably had 4 inches of snow on the ground and it was snowing at a rate of 1 - 2 inches an hour.  We finally got to the grocery store.  I am looking for the items that I need.  I guess I stood there a little too long because a gentleman came up to me and asked me if I needed help finding anything.  He actually started with, I don't work here but I shop here a lot maybe I can help you find what you are looking for.  I looked at him and then I looked at The Smooch.  The Smooch is laughing hard.  He is waiting, no willing me to ask the guy, yes sir, can you help me find the Vagisil?  The guy looked to nice and I just thanked him and told him I was fine.  I didn't think introducing him to Biv would be nice, plus I was trying to save all my torture for The Smooch.  I finally found what I was looking for and headed to the checkout.  The cashier says, how is your day going.  I said look at what I am buying and then let me know what you think.  The Smooch is howling by this time with laughter because he thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

I come bearing gifts to you oh great Biv.

I practically run home to apply all my lotions and potions.  But then I realize that running creates too much friction for Biv and have to stop to let her cool off.  She is not a fan of running, moving fast, sitting still too long and a variety of other activities.  I finally got home and I applied all the above items in all the places it needed to be.  Here I will spare you the details.  Use your imagination on where each item went.  And for the first night in days, I slept well. 

I am not sure how to conclude this blog post.  I am still healing.  My sinus infection is still hanging on.  I still have mucus babies on a regular basis.  It seems that everything my doctor prescribes me has a side effect of diarrhea and I seem to be effected by this with every new prescription.  Biv is doing better.  The burning is less bonfire and more candle.  Not a romantic candle, maybe more like a citronella candle.  Kinda smelly and a necessary evil during the itchy mosquito season.

*Woo Hoo is a technical term for my vagina and sometimes the area around my vagina.



And It Burns, Burns, Burns, The Ring of Fire, The Ring of Fire - Part 1

So far, 2014 has been a rough year for me, health wise at least.  Now don't get me wrong, I know it could be worse. I could have cancer or be dying or something.  I am grateful that my problems are only temporary.  It started Christmas Day when a snot nose child climbed all over me dripping on me and doing other unmentionable things that little kids do.  Two days later, I had the crud.  Two days after that, The Smooch had the crud.  There is nothing worse than being sick at the same time as your husband.  Neither one of us were healthy enough to get food, get medicine, clean our house which is getting grosser by the minute with all the snotty tissues, coughs and sneezes.  It was like there was a layer of mucus on everything.  Every time I blew my nose, I felt like my nose was giving birth to a mucus baby. Good news. This time it was twins!  Yeah me!!  Also, I didn't think it was possible but I hit my buying limit of pseudoephedrine from the local pharmacy.  I think they may have thought I was cooking meth.  It probably didn't help that I pulled up in an RV every time I needed to make a purchase.*

All my beautiful mucus babies.

The Smooch and I had three different colds between Christmas Day and the end of January.  Or maybe it was one cold that just kept coming and going.  Either way, neither one of us felt good for over a month.  Every time you thought you were getting healthier, that nasty cold would come back bigger and badder than before.  By the end of January, The Smooch was on the road to recovery, but I couldn't kick my cold.  It felt like it was settling in my sinuses and ears.  I broke down and decided to go see my doctor.  At this point, I didn't think I could feel any worse.  Every time I bent over, I thought mucus by explode out of my eye.  Boy was I wrong.....

Things did get a lot worse.  It all went down hill after I went to the doctor.  My doctor is funny and I always enjoy visiting him.  He said that I probably had a sinus infection and he prescribed an antibiotic.  THE ANTIBIOTIC.  I realize now that if you rearrange the letters of antibiotic you get THE DEVIL IN PILL FORM.  Crazy coincidence?  I think not.  At first my stomach started bothering me.  I thought maybe I ate something that disagreed with me.  Then the diarrhea set in.  I did nothing but poop for four straight days.  Every single time I went to the bathroom, I felt like that scene from Bridesmaids.  "It's coming out of me like lava" became my new mantra.  Do you know how awful it is to have diarrhea and a head cold.  Every time I coughed or sneezed, I had to check my pants for surprises.  And if you follow me on facebook, then you will know that I sit next to the bathroom at work.  Good thing if you have diarrhea but also a little bad because I can know that the bathroom is not sound proof.  I can hear you from my desk.  So I must have broken into a sweat every time I was in there trying not to release the lava god from my bum hole.  And that still wasn't the worse part of my illness.  Not by a long shot.

To Be Continued…

 Click here for the second part of this exciting saga!

* Just kidding.

Today I found love...

Let me be clear, this is not a romantic post.  Bells did not ring and fireworks did not go off.  As I get older, I realize that love is not romance and flowers.  There is more to it than that.  But I am getting ahead of myself.  Let me start this story at the beginning.  7:00 am this morning to be exact.

My alarm goes off at 7:00 this morning.  My first task of the day is to let the four dogs outside.  Four, are you insane?  Who has four dogs?  Not us.  We have three.  The fourth is a stow away.  We are babysitting our friends' dog while they are on vacation.  Let me add that we have three of the laziest dogs ever.  And I do mean EVER. They are so lazy in fact, that I can put them in any position with any props and take pictures all night.  Did you see my posts on Tricknee and Walking Dead.  I mean seriously, see what I mean?  So lazy.  The dog we are babysitting is the exact opposite.  He is much younger than our dogs.  He is around 2 and there is plenty of puppy left in him.  Also, I should mention that our dogs weigh about 30 pounds and that is all of them together.  Nobennyno, that is what we call him, weighs about 100 pounds more than that.  He is massive (compared to our dogs.)

Back to this morning, 7:00... alarm... dogs... continuing on.  So I get up to let my herd out.  And I am hit my a powerful smell.  The kind of smell you don't soon forget.  I let all four dogs out and go in search of the present they left me.  I thought for sure the culprit was Nobennyno.  His gifts are usually quite large and unpleasant to clean up.  But what present of this nature wouldn't be unpleasant to clean up?  Nope, Nobennyno is innocent for once in his life.  The guilty party was one of my sweet, innocent babies.  Well maybe sweet and innocent goes a little to far.  The moral of the story is that one of my three dogs, which I might add all sleep in the same crate and night, has had explosive diarrhea.  Imagine, if you will, what it might be like to put three dogs in a box, have one of their colons explode and then leave them in said box for hours.  That image is what I discovered.  My poor baby girl had poop on her face, her head, her back, her body, her stomach, her feet.  So basically everywhere.

At this point I have to wake The Smooch.  I go to the bedroom.  "Smooch?" I say gently.  "Code Red!"  The Smooch springs out of bed (I have never seen this happen before) and is ready to deal with whatever happens next.  I feel the first stirring deep down inside and I think I might be smitten.  He grabs all three dogs and ushers them into the bathroom and immediantly starts bathing them all.  I start to think maybe I like him a lot.  He bathes each dog in turn and I dry each one off.  While he finishes bathing and drying the dogs, I tackle the crate.

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After the crate is cleaned, I realize that I am an hour late for work and still need to get ready.  I start rushing towards the bathroom when The Smooch stops me.  He looks deep into my eyes and says "Baby, why don't I go pick up McDonald's breakfast for you while you are getting ready."  That's it.  Call my mother, I am in love.  The Smooch knew that I needed a little something to make my day better.  That's when I found love, in the bottom of a McDonald's bag. 

It amazes me how my definition of love has changed.  It used to be special presents, dinners out, or telling me that I look nice. Now it is cleaning up dog shit and buying me McDonalds.  I am not going to lie.  I don't know if this makes me feel older, wiser and happier or sad and pathetic.  What do you think?  What does love mean to you?  I want to hear your stories too!!

Crap I Did This Year - 2013

Like all great ideas, this one is also stolen.  I read, off and on, a number of blogs.  I stumbled across ComfyTown Chronicles: TToT Don't Call It A YIR which then led me to Considering: Not Ten, but TWELVE Things of Thankful.  I liked their versions of the year in review a lot and decided to try it out.

So here is my Year in Review also known as Twelve Thing of Thankful which I have renamed as Crap I Did This Year.  I haven't been blogging a year yet.  Well, I started in 2011 then stopped and restarted in October 2013.  But here is a list of a few other things I did that maybe even you didn't know about.  I apologize that it seems a little late.  But better late than never.

January

In January I left my old job in commercial real estate to start a new adventure in affordable housing.  Everyday since has been an adventure.  Working for a non-profit is different than anything I have ever done before.  There are all the goods and bads of any other job but there is this additional layer where at the end of each day, we did good for someone else.  We put people in homes.

February

An outing with a friend takes us to an improv show.  I have taken improv classes in the past but this show changes my fate with improv.  After this show, I take an additional class.  That class leads me to an improv troupe and performances in front of actual people.  People who paid money to see me perform.  Pretty cool.

The Smooch and I have an Oscar Party.  We went all out.  We decorated the house and had swag bags for all of our guests.  We even dressed the dogs up.

Yes, I made an evening gown for our cement goose.
Yes, we have a cement goose, but it is The Smooch's and not mine. 
No way I would own that awful thing.

Best Dressed goes to....

March

I have been very luck up until this point but in March I lost a good friend.  This was the first funeral that I have gone to that was for a friend.  Not an old relative, not the grandmother of a friend, but my friend.  Someone that was brought to me randomly by fate.  I should maybe add here that she was 90 when she died.  But it still hurt me in my heart.  I met her when I worked in a nursing home right after college almost 10 years ago.  We became fast friends and spent many years playing Scrabble.  I miss her dearly.

April

The Smooch and I went to see Elton John in concert.  It was my second Elton John concert and The Smooch's 18th.  I don't think it was our last concert.

I discovered roller derby and attended my first bout.  The Smooch and I attended a bout of the Ohio Roller Girls.  I hate sports.  I have a short attention span and get distracted by cheerleaders, bands and time outs.  But I could not take my eyes of this sport.  I am in love.  I later attend a couple Wanna Be clinics where you get to practice your roller derby skills.  Being a novice, we learned things like how to fall and stop.  Why do I would need to learn to fall.  I know how to do that.  You read Tricknee right?  I fall down just fine.  But I needed to learn to fall without hurting myself.  The Smooch and I also have season tickets to the 2014 season and I can't wait for it to kick off in March!  Boom!!

I stopped pinning stuff on Pinterest and actually made something that I pinned.  Pretty awesome right?

May

As I stated in January, I was reintroduced to the wonderful world of improv.  In May, I had my first performance.  It was quite an experience.  The crowd was not huge, but full for the venue.  I was so nervous I could have died.  But I am glad that I did it.  I conquered a fear and love performing.  I actually have a show on Friday!

My Office Plant Died.  This was very traumatic for me.  The plant was thriving and doing well.  Then after an extended period away from work it died.  It was determined it died of lack of light as my office has no windows.  Afterwards, the office plant doctor took all the rest of my plants out of my custody and determined me an unfit mother.  She nursed them all back to health, except the one pictured below and gave them back to me.  Now I have to get a babysitter for my plants anytime I am out of the office for more than 3 days.

June

My parents and in-laws engage in a war for my love during my birthday.  In a surprise turn of events, my parents sent me a birthday card.  This may be the second or third card I have received from my mother EVER.  The card held one slightly wrinkled $1 bill.  This may be the largest and most expensive birthday gift I have received from my parents in years.

Not to be outdone, my In-Laws "upped the ante."  Not only did they send a card, they sent a wrinkled $5 bill.  I am hoping this tradition continues until I am getting $100 each birthday.

I spent all that money on lottery tickets and won NOTHING!!  Lesson learned: people can't buy my love, it just doesn't pay.

July

July was the month I became famous, for about 15 minutes.  While eating out at a local hot dog restaurant, me and my coworker we approached by a news reporter.  They were doing an article on hot dog eating for July 4th.  I was interviewed and then I was video tapped eating a hot dog.  Now when you Google my name, this article comes up in the top 10.  So it is my Facebook page, my LinkedIn page and then a video of me eating a hot dog.  Can't wait until I look for my next job and future employers find that little gem.

August

August is the month that I decide to start blogging again. This led me on an adventure.  I know realize that I know nothing about nor do I understand SEO, PageRanks, analytics etc.  I had no idea there was so much more to blogging.  As I stated in my post My Blogging Goals for 2014 are......, I am going to try to ignore all of that stuff and just blog about whatever moves me.  I am not trying to get a book deal or get the most pins on my recipe on pinterest.  I just want to ramble aimlessly.

August is also the month that I discovered the best pants in the world.  I totally love these pants and will wear nothing but them.  Check them out at Button Free, Zipper Free, Care Free.  Yes, I wear elastic waist band pants.  Don't judge me until your fat ass has been in these pants and you were like, oh yeah.

September

September marked the two year anniversary of The Smooch and myself.  It often times feels like it has been much longer.  This is also the month wear rumors really started flying that I may have killed him.  I did not kill him, he had only been kidnapped by his mother.  If I had killed him, no one would ever know.  Read more here...  The Smooch has left the building...

I also got to meet Alex Newell who plays Unique on Glee.  This was one of two nights this year that I was up past midnight.  The other being New Year's Eve.  I am always amazed by the confidence of drag queens.  That was a drag....

October

October was a month that brought even more improve into my life.  Columbus had it's annual improve festival and I did nothing but watch, practice, workshop and perform improv.  It was a crazy weekend.  I guess that's all I really did in October.  Slow month.

November

The Smooch and I hosted a Halloween party and in our usually fashion, it was late.  We had it the first weekend in November.  It is partly Halloween's fault since it was on a Thursday.  We had a great time at the party.  I dressed up as a Wrecking Ball and The Smooch dressed up as Miley Cyrus.  He was wearing clothes but not very many and it was an interesting sight.  There are no pictures because every picture taken immediately broke the camera.  This party gave me a Flashback to college and I realized I am getting old and may now need to be on a no drink limit.

December

In December, The Smooch and I went to New York to visit my In-Laws.  Trips at the In-Laws are always interesting.  Each time The Smooch and I visit New York we always try to spend at least on day in the city, New York City.  This visit we took a look at the 9-11 Memorial.  It was a very somber place.  The first time I had ever been to New York was many years after 9-11 happened so I never saw the towers in all their glory.  And it is really weird to stand in a place where these two towers used to be.  It's hard to imagine what that space must have been like with the towers.  We also walked down to Battery Park and I got to see the Statue of Liberty.  I had never been to NYC before I met The Smooch and I love that we try to see one part of the city each time we are in New York.  It is really fun to see all these sights with The Smooch.

 

So it's Christmas yet again...

Christmas is almost here.  The stockings have been hung and all that jazz.  Christmas always leaves me with mixed feelings.  I have never been a huge fan of Christmas.  My entire single adult life, I only but up a Christmas tree one year.  I put it up the first year I lived alone after college and decided it was a lot of work to rearrange furniture and lug that tree and my decorations out.  Then I had to look at that awful cheap tree and my crappy cheap ornaments.  Way to much work just so I could look at that ugly tree.    Since The Smooch and I got married, the tree comes out a little more often.  If you read my blog My Favorite Christmas Tradition is..... then you will know that I have come a long way with my holiday traditions.

But Christmas is more than the decorations.  It would be so much easier if it stopped there but it doesn't.  Family is often involved.  The Smooch and I are lucky.  We both have loving families, blah, blah, blah.  What I actually mean by lucky with families is that both of our parents are still married so we only have two families to worry about and no step or half families.  So only two Christmases each year.  And we are even luckier because our families live in two different states.  While it sucks that we can see both of our families for every holiday, it also means that we only have to be in one place each holiday.  We don't have to rush from my family to his, driving hundreds of miles in the middle of the day just to watch small children ripping apart wrapping paper to see what they got.  Then once all those gifts are open, the complaining starts.  I didn't get as many gifts as my sibling.  My siblings gifts are bigger.  Blah, Blah, Blah.

I am not sure where I am going with all of this.  The truth is that I am waiting for The Smooch to come home so we can go to a Christmas Eve party.  So I am bored and rambling and just trying to kill some time.  But I think my point is that I think we often forget the real meaning of Christmas.  It should be a time about giving. 

I think we need to stop and really think about Christmas.  This should be a time of getting along and caring for each other.  Do nice things for strangers.  They don't have to be big.  They can be simple gestures.  Give to charity.  Don't create drama.  Love your family for themselves and not because they gave you crap.

I think that this blog is more a reminder for me than an interesting read for you.  I often forget the spirit of Christmas and let the drama take over.  So I will take a big breath and be happy for what I have, for the time I will get to spend with my family and for the overall magic of the season.

Merry Christmas to you.

The Smooch just got home and is complaining about there being no wine.  I guess this evening will be longer than anticipated without that boozy haze.

Merry Christmas to you.  I hope that the holiday, whichever holiday you celebrate, brings you happiness and cheer.


------Update---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The above was written on Christmas Eve 2013.  Today is the day after Christmas 2013.  And while I did try to feel the spirit of Christmas all day.  I was only successful part of the day.  I did find that spirit.  But I didn't find it in the constant debate over the Duck Dynasty guy.  He has the right to believe and say whatever he wants.  Just like you do.  If you don't like it, don't support him.  Stop watching his show.  I didn't find in in the on going debate about whether not we are allowed to say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays or whatever.  Say whatever you want.  But when people say something to you that you don't like, just remember the above.  We all have the right to believe in what we want.  And I certainly didn't find the Christmas spirit in all the bitching about UPS and FedEx.  For real people, give them a break.  They could not have predicted weather and other problems.  Those people work all night this time of year.  Do you?  Also, it is not UPS's fault that you waited to the last minute to order/ ship your gifts.  That was all you.  But I bet you are glad you finally have someone else to blame for a change of pass.

And the highlight of my non-spirit Christmas day was probably when a small child announced "This Sucks!" when he was told that instead of the regular feeding frenzy of everyone opening gifts at once, everyone would take turns opening gifts one at a time.  He declared "This Sucks, and is unfair for those of us who have to wait."

At that outcry, The Smooch and I smiled that knowing smile of a couple with no children and departed to our own house.  A house full of silence and where we could open gifts however we wanted.  That is where I found the Christmas spirit.  Alone with My Smooch.

I hope you found the Christmas spirit somewhere this holiday.

My Favorite Christmas Tradition is.....

While surfing the internet, I ran across the blog My Favorite Christmas Tradition Is.... from Janine's Confessions of a Mommyaholic.  Janine was challenging her readers to finish the sentence "My favorite holiday/ Christmas Tradition is...."  I am accepting that challenge.

What is my favorite Christmas Tradition??  That is a good question.  As far as traditions go, I am sort of in a transitional period.  The Smooch and I just hit our two year wedding anniversary in September.  We met in January before we got married so our first Christmas together was also our first Christmas together as a married couple.  This Christmas coming up will be our third together.  We are still looking for our Christmas traditions.  So far we haven't done anything consistently.  The Smooch's family is from New York so we spend every other year at their house for Christmas.  On those years (all 1 so far), we didn't even bother putting up a Christmas tree since we wouldn't be home to enjoy it.  On the years we stay home and go to my family's for Christmas, we do put up a tree but so far our tree is pretty sad.  I have some ornaments from my childhood.  My husband also has a few ornaments from his childhood but they all have his brother's name on them.  Apparantly an ex-girlfriend of The Smooch destroyed all of his childhood ornaments in some sort of crazed fit.  I think that might be about the coldest thing you could do to a person.  Somehow my husband ended up with some of his brother's ornaments.  So our tree is a mash up of ornaments from our childhood.

This brings me to my favorite Christmas tradition.  This may not be something we do at Christmas but it is something we do for Christmas.  The Smooch and I are trying to gather ornaments from "our" life.  When we travel, we try to buy ornaments that will remind us of these trips together.  We only have a few so far but my favorite thing is getting those ornaments out each year and remembering the trip we took.  Our Christmas tree is turning into a scrap book of our lives and that is probably my favorite holiday tradition.   

This is the ornament we recently bought on a trip to visit the in-laws.  It represents our trip to New York City we took last Christmas.  When we were in NY visiting his family, we went into the city to see the tree at Rockefeller Center.  When I get home, I will put last year's date on it and then I will hang it on the tree.  Whenever I see it, I will think of my first time to Rockefeller Center and even more importantly, the first Christmas I spent with my in-laws.

What are your favorite Christmas/ Holiday traditions?  I want to hear them!

The Walking Dead Took Over My Life

So you may or may not have noticed that I have been absent for a while.  I have a good excuse... well maybe not a good excuse, maybe just an excuse.  I started watching The Walking Dead on AMC.  My sister introduced the show to me when I was visiting her and I was immediately hooked.  The Smooch and I had to start watching it.  The show had just started it's fourth season, so we had some catching up to do.  The Smooch and I spent three solid weeks but we watched all three previous seasons and got caught up on season 4.  It took many types of media to get there.  We borrowed seasons 1 and 2 from the library.  We signed up for a one month free trial from Netflix just so we could get season 3.  Then we had to download and pay for the remaining episodes of Season 4.  But we are now caught up.    We stayed up late trying to get in one last episode.    We spent an entire Saturday dedicated to nothing but The Walking Dead.  We didn't leave the couch, we didn't shower, we didn't move.  We had pizza delivered directly to our couch so we wouldn't miss a minute. 

I want to save you all that pain and suffering so I am going to give you the cliff notes version of what happened in the four seasons of The Walking Dead.  **Spoiler Alert**  You may want to skip this blog if you are really interested in watching The Walking Dead, which I totally recommend.  Just kidding, I don't think I give away too much but if you are worried about it, just look at the pretty pictures.

The best part of me...

Lately I feel like The Smooch is getting the raw end of the deal.  He married me for a variety of reasons but I bet none of those reasons were because I am tired and grouchy at the end of the day.  Or maybe he is a masochist and that is exactly the reason he married.  In that case, we shall be happily married forever.  But I don't think so.  Which sucks because The Smooch sleeps later than I do so I don't see him until after work at which time I am normally grouchy and tired.  I am not this way because I hate my job.  It is quite the opposite.  I enjoy my job but that is not to say that I don't have my fair share of work related BS.  I do, who doesn't.  But I sometimes feel that I spend the best part of me at work.  I am refreshed when I get to work.  Little has crapped on my day yet.  The sun is shining.  By the time I get home from work, the sun has long gone to bed, which makes me want to be long gone to bed.  I feel like maybe I get a certain amount of patience every day.  And I feel like I use it all up at work.  I work in affordable housing and our tenants can sometimes be challenging.  That is not to say that they all are.  Some of them are very nice and grateful, but with every yin there is a yan.  For every great tenant, there is one crazy one, for every smiling tenant, there is a yelling one.  I sometimes feel that I use all my patience dealing with the tough tenants.  I use it dealing with the tenant who showed up drunk again...  I use it on the tenant who is asking for the impossible...  I use it on the tenant who feels entitled to things they don't deserve.  So by the time that I get home, I am tired and done with listening to others.  Why do I save the best of me for work?  Maybe because they pay me?  Maybe because it's my job?  This is not to say that all my patience is used on undeserving people.  I am very happy to give my patience to those who really need it.  That tenant who calls with lots of questions.  They are trying to understand a confusing process and I am happy to help them through it.  Better than you yelling at me later because you don't understand something.  I am happy to help people.

How do I save some of that patience and kindness for when I get home?  So that my husband and I can have a fun evening instead of me crawling into my pajamas and watching tv all evening.  I don't know the answer to that.  But for now, I am going to try to be more aware.  Try to be less grouchy with my husband.  And until I figure this all out, I am going to be glad to have a husband who likes curling up on the couch and watching tv as much as I do.

Ironically enough, The Smooch said to me while I was typing this.... "I love you even though you're a bad wife."  Wow, thanks honey.  Maybe I am not the only grouch.

 

 

It's Time To Buy Lycra Or To Start Working Out

Today I went shopping for clothes.  I have a work conference coming up and wanted to find something a little more professional to wear .  Clothes shopping has lost some fun since getting married because of something that someone once referred to as "Happy Weight."  It is not weight gain that makes you happy but weight gain caused by being happy!?!  Stupidest thing I have ever heard.  So I am on a mission to find some great shapewear.  I would love to hear your suggestions in the comments.

But this reminded me of the last time I was in the market for some shapewear.  This happened just over two years ago right before The Smooch and I got married.  I needed some serious shapewear to go under my wedding dress.  The dress was strapless and I have big boobs.  For you lady readers, you know what a challenge buying shapewear can be, but to find something strapless that still has the support to hold up your girls is really a challenge.  For my male readers, I apologize for the below in advance.

My search took me in and out of many shops but I couldn't find exactly what I needed.  I had no idea how hard it would be.  And the poor Smooch was with me.  I told him it would take about 15 minutes but then the search ended up taking three hours in and out of eight stores.  He was a great sport though.

I ended up at Victoria's Secret.  The Smooch had had enough and went into a different store in the mall.  We agreed I would call him when I was ready and we would meet up.  I went into Victoria's Secret and explained what I was looking for.  No problem, we have exactly what you need.  She found my size and sent me to the dressing room.  I got to the dressing room and examined what I had.  It was basically a small tube with two cups at the top.  Was this the right size?!?!  No way.  I checked the label and the label confirmed my worst fears.  It was my size.  Dear God save me.  I said a prayer but couldn't hear God's response over his laughter.  I disrobed down to my knickers.  I tentatively stepped into the garment.  I got it pulled up to my butt but could not get it pulled over my ass.  Well maybe my ass is to large, maybe I need to pull it over my head.  So I took it off and tried to pull it on over my head.  But I couldn't pull it down while keeping my arms straight above my head.  Hmmmm......  This went on for about 15 minutes.  I tried stepping into it and pulling up, I tried pulling it over my head...  I twisted and pulled but I could not get it on.  Perhaps it was a puzzle and you had to pull and push in all the right places to get it to fall comfortably in place???  Perhaps if I had taken a yoga class or some sort of contortionist class I could have gotten it on???  Perhaps if I was double jointed, I don't know.  It seemed that it was not meant to be.  I disgruntledly put my clothes back on and left the dressing room.

The Victoria's Secret employee cheerily asked me how it went.  I told her that it didn't.  I couldn't figure out how to get it on.  She took me by the arm and assured me that we would get that life constricting girdle on me.  Again, I looked to God.  The laughing was uncontrollable now.  The Victoria's Secret employee was slightly older than me.  Not old enough to be my mother but old enough to have seen it all, to have been there and done that.  We went into the dressing room and I disrobed again.  I am now standing there in nothing but my underpants in front of the Victoria's Secret employee.  I should also add that I am quite sweaty from my first attempt at putting this contraption on.  She said you have to step into it and pull it on.  I had complete faith in her.  Let's do this.  I pulled it up again to my butt and again I couldn't get to it any higher.  Embarrassment is starting to set in.  My lower half is incased like a sausage with the top half of me pouring out of it.  Again, I should mention that I am sweating and am really starting to get hot.  This is only causing my body to expand.  Not a good thing.

She looked me in the eyes and said, we are going to do this.  She told me to grab each of the sides and we would pull it on together.  She then stepped up to me perpendicularly to my body in what I can only describe as a solid stance.  A stance she had obviously gained from years of pulling lycra onto desperate women.  She then bent over and put one hand on the front of the life changing garment and the other hand on the back.  Since the piece was still below my ass, she had to bend over slightly to grab the garment in the right places.  This put her face directly into my naked boobs.  Awesome.  She then yelled "PULL" and together we pulled with all our might and the damn thing slipped on and into place.  It was perfect.  I couldn't breath so I knew it was working.  To get the thing back off, we had to do the same thing in reverse, with both of us pulling at the same time.  Again, her face was in my boobs.

When it was over, we were both covered in sweat.  I paid for my hard earned breath stopper and left the store.  The Smooch found my sitting on a bench outside of Victoria's Secret.  My hair was disheveled, my face was red and I was sweating.  He also said I had a look on my face of complete despair.  He asked me what happened.  I told him that I couldn't tell him.  We weren't yet married and I didn't want to ruin his image of me.  I told him that it started with a workout and it ended with Victoria's Secret employee and I sharing a cigarette.

Flashback to college

Today I woke up and felt like I did when I was in college.  Hung over.  My body hurt...  my head was pounding.... and I was nauseous.  I am exhausted and I felt like I had been hit by a truck.  And then I found men's clothing on the floor.  Not my husband's.  Oh god...  what have I done?!  I tried to remember but it was a blur.  I was disoriented.  I didn't know what time it was.  I was confused.  I found The Smooch and then reality sunk in.  I asked The Smooch about the night before.  How much did I drink?  About a gallon, he replies... of water.  Water?  Oh yeah.  I'm not hung over, I'm just old.  I'm not 20 anymore.    I didn't have anything to drink last night.  I did attend a pretty awesome party.  The Smooch and I hosted a Halloween Party.  My body hurts partly because I was wearing the wrong shoes and standing all night.  And partly because people kept slamming into me because... well that's what happens when you dress up like a wrecking ball.*  My headache is due to lack of sleep.  I went to bed at 2:00 am.  That is much later than my normal bedtime of 11:00 pm and my abnormal bedtime of 9:00 pm.  Which is what time I went to bed the couple days leading up to the party.  I thought that you were supposed to need less sleep as you got older, not more?  I am nauseous because, like I did in college, I ate Taco Bell at 10:30 am after waking up.  I thought they opened at 10:00 so I trolled through their parking lot like a creeper waiting for them to open.  And the disorientation and not knowing the time can be explained because of Daylight Savings and the fact that we turned the clocks back.

And the men's clothing....  well, things came into focus quickly. 

Pile of Men's Clothing.  Not the Smooch's.

Apparently this guest left the party naked.

So I guess I am not as wild as I thought I was... or maybe as wild as I was in college.  But that's okay.  I had a great time last night anyway.  And as I am writing this, I see that it is almost 9:00 pm.  Which was 10:00 pm yesterday, which is passed my bedtime.  Happy Halloween and Good Night.


*The Smooch was Miley Cyrus.

The Smooch

I love my husband.  But I think that all wives say that.  We have to right?!  The Smooch and I have been married for just over two years.  In terms of being married, I think we might still be newly weds.  We are not a typical 20-something couple.  We are a 30ish/40ish something couple.  Being a little older and stuck in our own ways provides many challenges for us.  Especially since neither one of us is ever wrong.  And I do mean ever....*

I think as you get older what you find sexy changes...  in some ways at least.  I used to think sultry eyes and a charming smile where the end all be all.  But as I get older, I realize it is really something else.  It is finding out that a load of laundry got done so that you don't have to go commando at work...  It is coming home to a clean house and the grocery shopping done.  It is finding out that your better half can and will defend you and stand up for you in ways that you yourself could never do.  I have found that in The Smooch.

Now that is not to say that he is a push over and will defend me always.  No sir.  If I'm wrong, he lets me know it.  Which usually leads to fighting.*  But he does.  And I may not always show it because, well you know why* but he always makes me stop and think.  I stop and think about how I should have seen a problem or how I should have reacted to a certain situation.  And it may not always be obvious but I try to act differently.  The Smooch has this way of thinking that is new to me.  He sees things so much differently than I do.  He is always showing me a new way to live and a new way to be.  He teaches me so much about relationships.  I always found myself surrounded by people and I always thought that was good enough.  The Smooch is teaching me that it is not the quantity of people in your life but the quality.  And quality friends are harder to find and even harder to keep.  The relationship its self is harder.  It just takes more time and effort.  But because of these hard lessons, I think my friends/ family are getting more out of me and I am getting more out of them.  Or at least that is the goal.

The moral of the story is this....  I love my husband.  I am a lucky girl.




Dramatic Reenactment - The Smooch

*As of the publishing of this blog, The Smooch or his lovely bride have never been wrong.  EVER!!

Weird Shepherd's Pie

Last night I did something for The Smooch that I haven’t done in a while.  Eww..  No not that.   You have such a dirty mind.  What I actually did was cook.  Shocking I know.  But let's be clear, this is not a cooking website and I am not giving cooking advice.  You would be a fool to follow any advice I have on cooking.

Cooking at my house is never as easy as it sounds.  Our kitchen is tiny and I always have an audience.  I have been trying to teach the dogs to stay out of the kitchen.  I just about have the one below trained.  He does however hover in the door frame.  But he knows better than to cross that line.

Please sir can I have some more?

The cooking motivation started when I met with my blogger friend from Honesty's Protégée to discuss all things blogging.  She has an awesome blog full of recipes and DIY projects.  I picked out a recipe for Biscuit Lasagna to make but when I tried to explain it to The Smooch, he was disgusted.  Something about his family being Italian and lasagna being sacred and if it doesn’t have noodles then you can’t call it lasagna… or something along that line.  The argument that ensued ended with me saying “Fine, then it’s called Weird Shepherd’s Pie, can you eat that?” and he agreed he could eat it and maybe even enjoy it as long as lasagna wasn’t in the title.  Deal!

Green Peppers

The Smooch tends to hate my cooking.  I know, what an awful man he is.  But he has a good reason for hating my cooking.  I can't cook.  Or maybe a more accurate portrayal  is that I don't know how to follow a recipe.  Ok, that's not quite it either.  The truth is that I simply don't follow the recipe.  I tend to think of them more as guidelines.  If I don't have all the ingredients, that's okay, I'll just leave them out or I may try to substitute with something that I do have in the house.  Tomato sauce and ketchup??  Basically the same thing right?  And if I have 3/4 of a cup and the recipe calls for 1 cup then 3/4 will do.  And the opposite is also true.  It if calls for 3/4 of a cup and I have 1 cup, I add it all.  I am not putting 1/4 of a cup of something back in my fridge.  Instead of throwing it away, into the pot it goes.  And because of these tiny, insignificant changes, my husband thinks everything I cook is awful.  Hogwash I say.  It takes like Hogwash, he says.

So I made some minor changes, sue me.  It turned out pretty good.  Except that the biscuits only cooked on the top side and they were raw on the bottom.  But that could have totally be our oven.  Right?  Otherwise, It was pretty good.  And eating a raw biscuit won't kill you.

Yum??

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Tricknee

You know how people need alcohol to feel brave to do idiotic things?  I am unfortunately not one of those people.  I tend to do stupid things completely sober.  So to explain to you exactly what happened to me last night (or what stupid thing I did to myself) I must explain a couple things to you first. 

•  I am pro-alcohol and do imbibe on occasion.  The problem is that alcohol is not pro-me.  We used to have a pretty good love-hate relationship.  Now, it is becoming more hate-hate.  As I get older, it takes the same amount of alcohol to feel drunk but significantly less to feel hung-over.  I now become hung-over after only two water-downed drinks.  My husband thinks I am a mean drunk so he has me on a strict two drink limit.  Because of this, I drink significantly less than I used to. 

•  A year or so ago, my parents hosted a big shin dig.  That means party to you city folk.  For said party, my parents had rented a bounce house.  Oh, what fun!!  If I only knew the truth*.  As the party was winding down, I decided it would be a good idea to try out the bounce house.  Rumors later circulated that I had drank too much.  I am here to tell you the truth.  I had exactly 1/2 of a beer over the course of two hours.  I wish I had been drunk, it would be less embarrassing.  Anyway, so I yelled to The Smooch, to come join me.  We were bouncing and having fun.  And then it happened.  I learned a valuable lesson.  I jumped one way and my knee went the other.  I hit the ground screaming in pain.  The Smooch kept bouncing thinking I was faking.  I was not.  My knee had twisted and had given out.  My niece and nephew would  later ridicule me about why I should have followed the rules of the bounce house.  I was over the weight limit.  I was over the height limit.  Why didn't I listen? A trip to an orthopedic surgeon assured me that not only was my knee not permanently injured, unlike my ego, I was also the oldest bounce house victim the orthopedic surgeon had ever seen.  Now I have a trick knee that gives out at the most inopportune moments.  Like that time in improv class where I got up too fast and my damn trick knee gave out.  Shortest scene ever.  But big laughs.

Back to last night....  My big injury happened over a year ago.  I have only had minor problems since then.  Lately, I have been feeling like my knee was almost back to 100%.  And then it happened.  It gave out again last night.  It gave out in a big way.  I will preface this story by saying I am okay.  I am writing this with my leg propped up and with an ice pack but I am okay.  So I give you permission to laugh.  Laugh big.  Laugh hard.  In exchange, I ask that you not tell anyone about this.  This may easily be one of my more embarrassing moments.  The only reason it isn't my number one most embarrassing moment is because I was alone when it happened.  There were no witnesses.

And here is what happened.... It was about 11:30.  The OSU game had just ended.  Time for bed.  I had had exactly 0 alcoholic beverages.  I was however sitting near two people that were drinking.  Maybe I had a contact buzz?  I don't know.  I did, however drink a lot of water and I do have a very small bladder.  That makes for a dangerous combination.  All of a sudden, I had to pee.  Bad.  I ran to the bathroom (well walked quickly, because who am I kidding, I never run.)  There was no time to shut the door, and I barley had time to pull my pants down.  No need to unbutton because well, you know (Button Free, Zipper Free, Care Free).  So pants half way down my legs, I turn to sit, and then my knee gave out.  I bounced off the toilet and fall, half in/half out of the walk in shower, pants around my knees.  I take a breath and try to assess the damage.  My knee hurts... bad.  But so does something else.  Oh yeah, that's my bladder, I still have to pee.  If possible, even worse than when I originally rushed into the bathroom.  I am glad to know that in intense situations, I can hold it.  Peeing my pants would have been the icing on the cake.  I take another breath.  Can I move myself the few inches to make it to the toilet?  Is my knee strong enough to support me?  Did The Smooch here the crash and is he on his way up here now?  We are not yet to a place where I wanted him in the bathroom when I was peeing.  The door was open, he could walk in anytime.**  My need was urgent, so I decided to risk it.  I moved towards the toilet and lifted myself up.  And then I fell in.  It seemed that when I bounced off the toilet, I had hit it with such a great force, that the toilet seat had ripped clear off the toilet.  It was two feet away.  I finished my business and then hobbled to the nearest bedroom to lie down.  Then I yelled for The Smooch.  When he arrived, I was half crying with pain and half laughing from embarrassment. 

He entered the bedroom not sure how to react.  There lies his crazy wife, laughing hysterically and holding her knee.  He tentatively asked the obvious.  I couldn't explain.  The tears and the laughter wouldn't stop.  I simply pointed towards the bathroom.  He assessed the scene but still couldn't put the story together.  So, through the tears and sweat, I told him what happened.  I told him the truth.  I have a family history of destroying toilets in unusual ways.***  So he just smiled and lovingly helped me hobble to bed.  He got me an ice pack and has been taking care of me all day.  Because when your wife is prone to idiotic drunken accidents when completely sober, you have no choice but to smile, take care of her and just shake your head and laugh.



Dramatic Reenactment

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*The Truth! Bounce Houses are dangerous!!  I have proof.
'Bounce houses' under new scrutiny | The Columbus Dispatch
Nationwide Children’s Hospital Study Shows Increase In Bounce House-Related Injuries - 10tv

** In fact, we almost got divorced earlier in the week when he walked in on me going number two.  Traumatic for both of us.  There was yelling and screaming on both parts.  We couldn't look at each other for the rest of the day.

*** My grandfather, the asshole, once destroyed a toilet when he dropped a crock pot on it.  Because who doesn't dispose of rancid vegetable soup by pouring it down the toilet?  The crock pot was unharmed.