Pictures of my Guts

Tomorrow morning, I go into the Plano Surgery Center for a laparoscopy of my abdomen. See, I gots the endometriosis real bad, and the only recourse is surgery. In case you’re wondering what endometriosis is, here’s a quick synopsis:

Ladies, as we all know, have a uterus. Inside said uterus, endometrial cells grow, forming the endometrial lining. This is the lining that becomes the amniotic sack (for holding babies and shit). If the lady doesn’t get in the family way, the endometrial lining dissolves and leaves the body with the extra blood supply, which, in laymen’s terms is “the period”. Endometriosis happens when those endometrial cells grow outside of the uterus, in the abdominal cavity. They can be anywhere; kidneys, intestines, liver, ovaries, etc. Since these cells are jerks, they bleed every month when the lady gets her period. The body responds to this random bleeding by forming scar tissue over the site. This can cause adhesions, which are massive scar tissue build-ups that end up attaching things to stuff (like ovaries to intestines, or intestines to kidneys…not a good scene). Another delightful side effect is ovarian cysts. These nasty little bastards attach themselves to left or right ovaries, often times growing to 10 times the size of the ovary itself. I hate cysts. Having endometriosis means feeling generally terrible, and can lead to possible infertility and in the very rarest cases, death.

So, now you know what it is. The upside of things is that while they’re in my belly, they’re gonna take lots of hi-resolution picture of my guts. How rad is that? I’m gonna start a site called “Pictures of my Guts.com” I can’t wait to see what’s happening in there. So, there you go gut-pics to come.

“Well, he had to hit me”

I went to a brunch thing this weekend, and I met the coolest little kid of all time. Me, my pal Karen, my new pal Adrienne and her 6 year old son Hudson we all enjoying our meal out side on the patio, and Adrienne told us that she had a story about Hudson to share:

“One day last week, I had to work a little late, so my husband picked the kids up from school. When I got home from work, Hudson’s best friend David’s father called me to apologize for David hitting Hudson at school that day. I said to his father, ‘I didn’t hear anything about this, let me call you back.’ I go find Hudson and ask him if David hit him at school, and Hudson said ‘well, he had to hit me... I’m made out of titanium, and he had to know what it felt like to hit titanium.”

Hudson was sitting there with us while his mom was telling the story, and when she was done, he nodded his head and said “I am made out of titanium.” We asked him if he came that way or if he had the titanium put in later. After giving us the stink eye, he said “I came this way. And I’m gonna live 1 hundred twenty thousand years!” He went on to say that he could eat a piece of ham as big as a window. Coolest. Kid. Ever.

ALL HAIL MUSTACHE!!!!!

This is my friend Smooth. God he's cool.

I love drugstores

I love, love, LOVE drug stores. There is so much crap in there to look at and buy. Last time, I was in a CVS near Garland, I found this crazy-looking supplement for men called "Super Macho". I think it's made out of bull testicles or something. God knows what it does, but I had to buy it. I have no logical reason to own this item, but I love it none the less. Maybe it's because of the design of the package. I will buy something if the package design is cool enough. Hey, I'm an art director, I can't help it. I also love tactile package design, and this Super Macho was all thermographyed and shit (thermography is when the ink is really, really shiny and raised up a bit). I fucking love it.

And another time, I was at the Wal-greens in Uptown, and I was very surprised to find a gay pride t-shirt display. I commented to my pal Amber how odd I found it that Wal-greens sold Pride shirts, and her response was "you haven't seen the lube aisle yet." Lube aisle? No way! Sure enough, that Wal-greens has an EXTENSIVE personal lubrication selection. All major brands were represented, as well as a few fringe brands that were new to me. They also offered the liter size, pump-top lube containers, for those with heavy lube needs. The other thing about the lube aisle, they had cock rings for sale, but in very tasteful and discreet packaging. Crazy stuff man. I love drug stores so much.

Anyway, so I was wondering through CVS, waiting on my pills to be ready, and my gaze was captured by this black eye patch. HOLY SHIT! You can get a legit, pirate-style eye patch at CVS! That's awesome! I wanted it so bad...I was going to show up at work tomorrow, wearing my eye patch, just to look mysterious. And, when people asked me about my eye patch, I would simply say "I don;t want to talk about it." Maybe I'll do that next week. I heart you, drug stores!

Child proofing? I gots it.

An open letter to the C. U. Next Tuesday at the gym

Madam,

My stars! You must be really, really important, or famous or something. You must be like JLo or Colin Powell important! I was so humbled by your presence in the cardio theater this morning, I almost asked for your autograph, but then I was too shy to ask. I mean, you must be someone super amazing, I can't think of any other reason why you would need to take 2 cell phone calls within 10 minutes of each other this morning...in the gym...2 treadmills away from me...in the cardio theater. Surely something catastrophic would have happened if you didn’t take those 2 calls, even though it sure looked like you were just gossiping, I bet you were really saving the world....you know, "taking care of business". Cause if you weren't "taking care of business", you would have intentionally violated the sanctuary of the cardio theater. You wouldn’t do that, would you? I mean, the cardio theater has the same rules as a regular movie theater, and you know that. You wouldn’t take 2 cell phone calls in a regular movie theater, would you? No way, you're way too classy to be doing that nonsense, right? Man, I sure am glad those 2 phone calls were that important, and that you were the only one on the planet who could have provided the answers to those questions, and that you felt confident enough to take those calls, even though you were in the cardio theater with several other gym patrons. However, if you ever pull that kind of shit again, in my cardio theater, I'm gonna pull a razor outta my titties and cut you.

My gym is so boss, except for the bitches, that is

I love my gym. Love, love, love my gym. It's a five minute drive from my joint, it's got a clean, fancy ladies locker room, an indoor lap pool, and this fantastic room called the "cardio theater". The cardio theater is such a flippin' good idea; I wish I had come up with it. It's about a quarter the size of a regular movie theater, and it has about 8 million treadmills, ellipticals, gazelle thingies, bikes, recumbent bikes, and one big-ass movie screen. It's dark, so no one talks, and they play a movie over and over again, all day long. So far, I've seen bits of Blades of Glory, Transformers, Lord of the Rings, and, sighs with disappointment, Fantastic 4 (God that movie was a stinker). Not great cinema, by any means, by Lordy, is it a great way to pass the time. Usually, I’m too distracted by my cardio machine, the other gym users and their antics, and by my brain nagging me with a constant "are we done yet? are we done yet? are we done yet?” Stupid brain, trying to puss-out on me. So, this cardio theater is the mutt's nuts, I love it. There are only 3 noticeable flaws to this gym that I have found so far: 1.) the shower curtains are about 6 inches shy of being wide enough to cover the shower stall's width (so everyone get's the $5 show for free), 2.) there is no steam room (Mama loves her steam rooms) and 3.) there are a few bitches who need to back the shit off. This week alone, I have had 2 bitches give me the super-sized stink eye. WTF? I'm friendly; I always give a head nod or a "good morning" to all my fellow gym goers. Hey man, we're all in this together, there's no need for petty stink eyein'. I can’t help it if I'm prettier and younger than you dried-up old skanks. You might as well be mad at the sky for being blue, so knock it off...or else I'll pull a razor outta my titties and cut you.

P.S. Thanks to this post, my spellcheck now has the words "skanks" and "eyein'"

Thumbs down on Cincinnati's airport

Okay, most airports kinda blow. On the whole, airports are the least happiest place on Earth with the exception of the Georgetown Hospital ER, but Cincinnati's airport sure was something special. Picture this: worn and patchy carpet, everything is closed down (even though it's 5:30 in the pm), a Santa Clause-lookin' hobo eyeballin' me, and a sharps container in the ladies room. You know what a sharps container is? It's a used needle receptacle...for dirty hypodermic needles. Now, either Cincinnati has waaaaayyyyy more than its fair share of insulin injecting diabetics wandering around, or waaaayyyyy more smack addicts walking around. Who has a sharps container in a public can? Some kind of derelict town, I suspect. Oh Cincinnati...(shakes head with disappointment)

Those boys at Lowes sure are nice

So, I ended up at Lowes last Friday night, because my garage door opener had a dead battery. And I needed a few things, but mainly because my garage door opener was busted. Normally, I'm summarily ignored in man-huts such as Lowes, auto parts stores and Circuit Citys. Which is fine by me, I don't need their help anyway (kicks can...shuffles feet). Honestly, I really hate it when sales dudes talk down to me, so I generally try to get in and get out before I get reminded that my *husband* should be making these sort of decisions for me. Oh wait...I'm an old maid...yeah...forgot about that. Anyway, back to the story. I goes into the Lowes, and the first thing I want is a wee pint of paint, so I goes to the paint guy. The paint guys are usually rather sketchy, but this was a smiling young man, and he got to making my pint of paint immediately. Another Lowes gent was loitering nearby, and I asked him if this place cut keys, and it turns out, HE was the key guy! He took my keys, then brought them back before my paint was even done being shaken. Then, he patiently tried to figure out how to open my surprisingly complicated garage door opener, so's I could get a new battery. Turns out, my opener is the Rubics Cube of openers. It took 2 guys to figure it out. But, we got it in the end, and I was on my way, full of paint, keys and power. It was such a pleasant trip to Lowes, those fellas sure were nice. Maybe it's because I wasn't wearing a bra.

Funny as balls

So, I watch the odd infomercial here and there, who doesn't? One of the funnier ones I have seen is the Kevin Trudeaux (I think that's how he spells his name) one where he's pushing this book on "natural" cures for diseases and conditions. Basically, he asserts that "they" don;t want us to be healthy and happy, but he has uncovered these secrets to perfect health, and "they" ain't gonna stop him from sharing them with the world...for about 50 bucks a pop. As far as schemes go, it's pretty pedestrian, but I've seen it enough times to appreciate this fantastic little spoof I found on Youtube this afternoon. Check this good shit out: http://youtube.com/watch?v=ZQC1ySK1aVI (yeah, I'm too lazy to post the actual video here, but trust me, this is worth checking out).

This one's for the Star Trek NG fans

Doesn't this dude look exactly like Wesley Crusher...in a fantastically creepy clown sweater? Seriously, that sweater is nuts. Someone probably made it by hand too. Someone with 50 cats and a lot of free time. I wonder what else they make? And where I could obtain for myself these items (scratches head).

I laughed so hard, I hurt my neck

So, I was in a meeting yesterday afternoon, and we were trying to read through this dude's notes on the whiteboard, and it looked like he had written "meet beef cream". In reality, he had written "meet Jeff and crew." But "meet beef cream" was so damn funny, I could not stop laughing. And then, it was so funny that I started pounding my fist on the table, cause I was laughing so hard, and then, I strained something in my neck, cause I was pounding the table too forcefully. But, I was still laughing, so I just cradled my neck with my right hand, and it was all good. God, I'm getting the giggles just thinking about that..."beef cream"...HA!

Urge to kill....falling

Okay, sorry about the angry posting last time, I was really heated when I wrote it. But, after having a week to reflect on things, I'm still a bit peeved, but not angry anymore. So I have that going for me, which is nice.

boy, I sure hate being the bigger man EVERYTIME

About 2 years ago, my gentleman friend and I broke up. We dated for 6 and a half years, and we had been friends for over 6 years before that, so you can imagine that the break-up hit me pretty hard. Especially since I thought this was going to be the dude I was going to marry and have babies with and shit. Especially since he told me repeatedly that he wanted to marry me and that I was "the One" for him. Especially since after we broke-up, he actually said to me "I really wanted to mean it when I said 'you're the One and I want to marry you.'" Especially when he called me, 2 months after dumping me, to tell me he had a new girlfriend, and he wanted my blessing because he was feeling guilty about having a new girlfriend already. Great guy, right? Anyway, I made a conscious decision to NOT badmouth Mr. Wonderful on this blog or on any other forum, because I have been trying to be classy. Well, I am done with that shit.

Last night, one of my best friend turned 30, and his Mom planned this great big, super-fun surprise party for him. Said party was to include: a party bus, beer, a trip an hour north to Tioga TX for BBQ, friends, family, and Mr. Wonderful was going to be there with his new girlfriend. This was going to be quite upsetting to me, as you can imagine, but I decided to screw a smile on my face and join the party. I even made a special point to be extra nice to his girlfriend. So, when I got to the party, I made sure to smile at her, shake her hand, introduce myself, and be cordial. In return, Mr. and Mrs. Wonderful refused to acknowledge me on any level...for 3 hours. Not only did they sit as far away from me as possible on the party bus, Mrs. Wonderful wouldn't even look me in the eye when I said "hi" to her in the ladies room once we got to the BBQ joint in Tioga. And I knew the girl can talk and be social, I saw her being social with everyone else there. So, after dinner, when it was time to take the party bus home, I decided to site across from Mr. and Mrs. Wonderful so I could make small talk with them. I was so fucking cordial, it was painful. I made sure to look at and talk to both of them. I tried to engage Mrs. Wonderful in conversation. I asked her about her dog, and the only thing she condescended to say to me was "he's brown." Then, she pointedly looked out the window, and refused to acknowledge me any more. She also would whisper into Mr. Wonderful's ears from time-to-time, while he and I were in the midst of a conversation about mutual work acquaintances. It was fucked up. I don't think I have ever been so directly snubbed in my life. To top it all off, when we got back to my pal's house, Mr. and Mrs. Wonderful went from person to person, hugging everyone in the group and saying goodbye...everyone except me. They fucking walked out, without even so much as a "nice to see ya", or "see ya in hell!". Seriously...what the fuck?

Here's the thing, Mr. Wonderful and I didn't have a messy break-up, there was no infidelity or abuse, so I expected a modicum of respect from him if/when I saw him in a social situation. Because that;s how I have treated him in those circumstances. What I got last night was unacceptable, rude, childish and fucking disappointing. You mean to tell me you spent 6 and a half years of your life, sharing every intimate act imaginable with me, and you can't even be bothered to treat me like human being? What a dick. And her? Are you fucking kidding me? Is she 12? Are we going to have a fight in Study Hall next week? What a child. Why does it always fall on me to be the bigger person who makes the effort to be nice? Why can't people meet me half-fucking-way? People fucking suck. I hate people. I want some ice cream and a hug. Fucking people. Giving me fucking cravings. I hate people. The end.

Seriously Kashi...what the fuck?

So, a few weeks ago, I was wondering around the local food mart, looking for tatsy frozen dinners to enjoy, and this lovely green and white box caught my eye. It was one of those new-fangled Kashi meals, and let me tell you, it sure looked tasty. It boasted "Chicken marinated with lemon and rosemary, grilled then sliced. Served with baby Portobello mushrooms and sugar snap peas over our Kashi® 7 Whole Grains Pilaf, and topped with lemon rosemary sauce." I mean damn, I'm not made of stone here, who was I to resist? I likes chicken. I likes lemon rosemary sauce. So, needless to say, I popped that sweet-looking box into my basket, and ultimately into my freezer at home. As I stated before, it had been a few weeks since I bought that sucker, so when I opened the freezer this evening, you can imagine my glee at finding it again. "Oooooo!", I says, then I stuck it in the microwave, and waited for the goodness to be ready to eat. I should have known by the smell that I was going to be less than pleased. It kinda stunk like feet when it came out of the microwave, but it still looked good, so I decided to give it a try. Inedible. I mean, in-freakin'-edible. I think they ground up trolls with mustache clippings to make the sauce. And what was with all those crazy-ass mushrooms, man? I was prepared for some mushrooms, but not a plethora of them! I was promised "some", damnit! In. Edible. Period. I had to throw that shit out after 2 bites...now what am I to do about dinner? Fuck! Now I'm all hungry, pissed-off, and dinner-less (shakes fist!). Man, if you see that Kashi in the food mart, just walk on by. I know she's fine and all, and she says all the shit you want to hear, like "fresh", and "organic", but just smile and nod, then go back to good ole Lean Cuisine. Now that's a brand who knows how to keep me satisfied. Sure, it get's a little dull having the same ole, same ole all the time, but I tell you what, the grass ain't greener on the Kashi side. It;s actually significantly less green...and it smells like a foot. That Kashi is one nasty-ass bitch, I got to loose her number.

Shit I'm Thankful for

Hello, my many spendid pets. It's that time of year where we all take a moment and reflect on what we are thankful for. Not even Blogda is immune to this tradition, even though she is kind of an iconoclast. So, without further ado, here's my list of shit I am thankful for:

1.) My office lets people bring their dogs to work. It is physically impossible to be unhappy when there's puppies around you, it's a scientific fact. Look it up. Puppies are neat.

2.) The color Kelly Green (also known as Emerald Green). I look so kickass in this color, I have to ration out the times that I wear it so as not to blind my neighbors with my glory.

3.) The Family Guy. Every episode is full of at least 3 laugh-out-loud moments. It's rare these days for a show to be as consistently fantastic as TFG has been, so I salute you, creators of TFG. Huzzah to you, good people!

4.) Cookies. God damn, cookies are delicious. I fucking love cookies. Period. If you don't at least like cookies, you must hate yourself.

5.) My Dad's health. Yeah, I had to get all sentimental and shit at least once, right? But seriously, the Old Man almost died a few times in the last 2 years, so the fact that he is so healthy and strong today is nothing short of miraculous. I am truly thankful that my Pop is a tough old bastard.

6.) All my cool-ass work buddies. Now, it's easy to fall into a routine with your work buddies, and kinda of take for granted that they'll always be there to make you laugh and open your hard-to-open jars for you, but take it from me, they may not be around for ever! Enjoy them while you can, and maybe bring them a nice sandwich now and again. Nothing fancy, maybe just a nice turkey sandwich with a little Swiss cheese and a nice mustard. And maybe a pickle. And some chips. And a cookie. Yeah, a cookie would be a nice way to top that off. Shit. Now I want a sandwich.

The list goes on, I assure you, but I think this is a good start. Have a happy and joyous Thanksgiving, my friends, and maybe bring me a sandwich sometime.

Respect the office

So, I was pursuing ye olde CNN.com this afternoon, and a little article called “Things you should never do at work” caught my eye (cause I was at work, and I didn’t want to be doing something that I should never do, see?). I start reading that sucker, and the first 8 or so things where pretty conventional: don’t steal shit, don’t lie about shit, don’t play hooky, blah, blah, blah. Then, I get down to the last item, and it was fantastic! “Do NOT hit on your boss”. No foolin’? I thought I might get that raise if I gave up a little of the strange to my boss. What jackass is out there, right now, looking at his/her boss, thinking “I want to tap that, and I think it would be 100% appropriate for me to act on this impulse. I bet he/she would be receptive to this tact.” Seriously, do we actually need these basic-ass rules in this day and age? Do we need to be told not to dress in tube-tops and hooker boots? Or not to steal shit? Come on now people, this is the 21st century. Mama raised us right; we do NOT need this kind of elementary reminders. And if you do, I shake my finger at you, you laggard!

Nursing program, my Aunt Fanny!

So, I checked my junk email bin on Yahoo Mail this afternoon, and it was chocked-full of ads trying to get me to sign up for some nursing program. They obviously don’t know with whom they are messing. I would be such a piss-poor nurse, it’s retarded. Sure, I could be a nurse, I got the smarts and stuff, and I am an empathetic caregiver and all, but only with the very few people that I actually like. Everyone else can suck it. I hate people, in general. People are dumb. People are whiny. People are filthy and sticky and smelly…oh my! I have no time to put up with “people.” If you need me to fluff your pillows, wipes your drool-speckled chin and spoon-feed most excellent chicken soup (what’s made from a real chicken!), I better straight-up love your ass, otherwise, you’re screwed. And not in the sexy-goodtimes kinda way. Nursing program…(shakes head).

You had better bring the chivalry

Let's start this off by saying that on the whole, I'm a strong modern girl of the new millennium. I support myself, I can buy your ass some dinner, and I can open my own jars. But just because I CAN do all of that, doesn't mean you fellas are off the hook. I am a lady, and hence, I expect to be treated with a few dignities. I'm talking basic etiquette shit here. For instance: if you are waiting for the elevator, don't try to rush in the second the door opens. If you do that, then I can't get off the elevator, so you've done nothing but complicate matters by your hasty actions. Which is just rude. Seriously man, wait a few moments to let us elevator patrons of the damn car, then you can pick whatever standing spot you want, and you can easily press your floor button without all of our bodies in your way. See, everyone wins this way. Your way just results in me shoulder checking your dumbass on my way out while I say, rather loudly, "EXCUSE ME". And if you really piss me off, I'm throwin' elbows too. Big, messy elbows that rattle your teeth. And another thing, hold the damn door open as your walking through it. I am talking to you, door-slammers! How hard is it to just pause a moment and keep the door open for a lady? About as hard as a geriatric man's wang, that's how hard. Yeah...that was gross...sorry about that. I just get all worked up when I think about all those doo doo bags who clearly see me coming, laden with bags and laptops and beverages and the like, then oh so casually allow he door to slam shut right on my mug. My stars! What kind of person treats a lady in such a fashion? A sorry sack of hobo turds, that's who. An no one wants to hang out with a sorry sack of hobo turds, no matter what your mother might have told you. And you certainly ain't gonna get to see my cookie place behaving like that! Moral of the story, if you see me, you better recognize, and you better bring the chivalry.

So, I work/live in Dallas, right near Medical City hosiptal, which happens to be right next to a section of White Rock creek. Which is nice and pretty, so I enjoy it thoroughly. But dang, last Monday, it rained about 5 inches in a matter of hours, and that sucker flooded like balls! Seriously, like balls! A whole soccer field was underwater, as was the street I usually use to drive to and from the office. Most inconvientent, but rather fascinating at the same time, so I took pictures of it. And they are rad, so enjoy them as you would a balmy spring day.