Friday, September 28, 2012

pain in the ass

I've debated whether to post this blog directly after my other whiny, high anxiety, rant from yesterday. But I figured why not let it all hang out ~ literally ~ and just show you into my deep, twisted world of crazy thoughts.

I had my ass pricked today. No, not in a fun way. Wait... Is there a fun way?

Ok it wasn't really my BUTT per se, but more my hip. I was told I have hip bursitis.

Say what? Isn't that something your grandma has? Goodness I'm aging at lightening speed!!! Shut the front door! You can't be right. Stop it! Just stop, no really, stop...
The look the nurse gave me so I shut up.
She says"it's from overuse" . . . though I wanted to smirk, wink & do the whole dirty car salesman look and say "oh yea baby, that's what I'm talking about"... I said "oh, could it be from Zumba®" where she in turn agreed that could do it.
Now there is NO way shape or form, no matter how much my hip throbbed & I grimaced numerous times during slumber just to roll over, was I giving up Zumba®. And I am NOT giving it a bad name, quite the contrary. Taking classes a few times a week will most likely not cause bursitis, but as an instructor I teach 2-3 times a week PLUS practice several other days, plus weekend Zumbathons® so I'm gyrating for several hours nearly 5-7 days a week. I make Elvis' hips look lazy.

she suggests a rest... I say how much of a rest & she says a few weeks.

"no can do sister" this isn't recreational, I teach, it's a job & people depend on me so what are my other options.

Oral steroids. If I wanted to look like Arnold I would be a weight lifter trainer not a Zumba® instructor... plus I know how that shit makes you gain weight... that would be quite counter productive.

So she suggests the injection. It's quick & goes directly to the spot. That's what men say too. Lies.

Anywhoooo.... I hate needles. Needles that penetrate you (should I rate this blog X-rated? sheesh) I have tattoos but it's different. Damn different so stop making the comparison people it's annoying.

Tattoo = hour or so of constant pricking & scraping. Uncomfortable & annoying but usually not excruciating. And if you have an ARTIST not a jack wagon you should have a beautiful outcome of body art. 
This... beautiful.

Injections = homogeneous needle that punctures through layers & layers of skin, ripping through everything else in the way then exploding some form of liquid into a pocket of liquid?? Again, isn't THIS counterproductive? and what's pretty about it? I just removed the blood stained maxi pad looking thing & the bandage that left my hip red, swollen & throbbing like a boner. 
This... makes me wanna vomit.

So, boner-fied and all I went for the injection this morning. I was not allowed to bring anyone back with me. I asked who was going to hold my hand & she said no one. Oh.

I said ok but I tend to throw punches when I get anxious. She threatened to swing back. I told her that'd be great, I prefer to be knocked out please.

Once again this week, I was asked to drop my drawers. This Zumba® thing must really be working for me. So down they went & up on the gurney I went. At which point I asked for a teddy bear to squeeze. The 2 nurses literally laughed out loud & said no one has ever requested that. Well I'm a whole other breed ladies & I wanted a teddy bear. But had to settle for the death grip of the cold metal bed. Not quite as comforting.

I asked that I not see the needle or I would become Jim Carey from The Mask. A blurr - never to return. They graciously accommodated me ... .. .. .. minus the bear; yes I'm bitter.

The doc advises about the numbing agent literally as she is sticking me with it, dang that's never comfortable but you hear "numbing agent" and you become extremely tolerant. Thinking to myself, numb = no pain. Right?

To my dismay the doc starts talking about the needle... "needle this.." "needle that"... and honestly I had no clue she even stuck me yet... the nurse finally says "hey doc, uh can ya chill with the eddle-nay word". I giggled. Helloooo I speak pig latin.

Just as I was beginning to unclench my white knuckled death grip the nurse says "ok and now with the fluid injection you'll probably feel some pain, ok?" No. That's a stupid question, it's not ok & I'd prefer ..........
YOWW!!!!!!!!!

Never mind. 

About 10 seconds of pressure & pain & it was over. I was still breathing, eyes open, not ass up on the cold floor. Still clenching though. I hear "clean her up"... clean what up? what's wrong? is my femur protruding? Come to find out, I'm a bleeder.

Now here comes the ingenious part. I wore skinny jeans today. Not nice comfy ones. Ass hugging-leaving-nothing-to-the-imagination-nearly-but-not-quite-a-camel-toe kind of jeans. I regret this decision as she's stuffing an ice pack down my pants asking can I feel it? Your hand caressing my ass cheek or the ice pack? By her look, I assume she meant the ice pack. Hey after what SHE just did to me she better be fondling something.

Recovery time = no Zumba® for a few days. bummer. My hips will be motionless & limp for the next couple days but then watch out Zumba® world I'm bound to start an earthquake to make up for lost shimmy-ing!

Whoop! Whoop!




Thursday, September 27, 2012

let your fingers do the walking

close your eyes. hear the ocean waves. feel the coolness on your skin. your muscles relaxing with every stroke. muffled deep moans...

HOLD UP!!!!


we're talking about a massage here, right? that's what y'all were thinking I'm sure.

who doesn't love a massage? No really, who? Cuz I need to know if I'm the only one who actually has to be PERSUADED to get one.

the masseuse at my gym has been talking me into a massage since May. I have myofascial pain syndrome in my upper back & neck area. Basically I carry all my stress in my upper back & shoulders. I'm hunched, bunched & scrunched 90% of the time thus causing weak muscles, soreness & headaches. I've had physical therapy and local injections that have worked but only for a short period of time.

I'm not one who likes or wants to "fix" the pain with meds but I basically keep Advil in business. Sorry liver.



I've finally caved & scheduled a massage for this evening after my Zumba® class. Pre-shower is required in my book.

Why so tense? I'm glad you ask. Let me 'splain.

#1 - I get to get totally naked in front of a stranger that only has a WHITE cotton sheet to cover up my girls & my badonkadonk. Which means at anytime as I'm laying buck ass naked one of my hooters may high tail it outta there to make an uninvited appearance. I'm not 20, nor close to 30. My lovely lady lumps grew to a DD when I was prego but now 70 lbs lighter, needless to say they make rubber bands look tight. Basically when I'm laying down, I'm flat. Flat as a board. So where exactly are the girls? Dangling to the side. Thus I TENSE up trying to keep them in check. Like flexing will bring them to a standing ovation or something?!?

#2 - I'm naked. Face down, ass up. Praying to bejeezus that the broccoli that i ate today doesn't decide to make a lasting impression. Yes  I knew broccoli had this effect on me  so once again I resorted to pill popping...
Trust me, he'll be thanking me later. Thus I TENSE up or should I say CLENCH up hoping that I don't let out a squeaker.

#3 - I'm naked. In silence. If you know me, you know I'm always a sure loser at the "quiet game". I have to say something just bc I'm not supposed to. 30 minutes of unadulterated silence. So now not only are my ass cheeks clenched so is my yapper. 

#4 -  I'm still naked. With ADD and a mix of restless leg syndrome. Me sit still?


Really? I'll go nuts. So to me, a massage is much like a straight jacket.

 #5 - Have I mentioned that I won't be wearing any clothes. OK I'll have on my muffin protectors. Which I will spend relentless hours over-thinking which will cover the most but not look like granny panties in case the sheet gets crazy & your briefs peek out. Check for holes, rips, tears. You know, those "period" unders you have outworn 5 years ago but refuse to let go of (men I'm sure you're totally grossed out at this statement, but trust me, your smokin' hot girlfriend has them too so don't judge) Those would be unacceptable in this situation. Thongs, not happening. Shit, they don't happen in every day life. I endure plenty of wedgies on my own thank you, don't need my unders flossing for me.

So by the time it's all said & done, which by the way should be an hour session but I've scheduled only a half hour, I don't leave there relaxed. I'm a big knot that feels violated & wondering for the next 42 years if something slipped out and he never told me.

Oh yea, clincher, it's a HE. Very nice guy, very respectable or I wouldn't even consider it BUT I've only been "man" handled by the ladies. I don't mind sharing a tit amongst friends but ????????????????

Soooooo....anyone available tonight? I heard that a massage appointment just opened up this evening.


Tuesday, September 25, 2012

brushing up on hair terminology

Hair. I love it. In case you didn't already know. My son has inherited the trait of wanting his hair damn near perfect, nothing wrong with that. Except for when people just don't get us... or we don't get them. Either way, it's a hot hairy mess.

I'm honestly ashamed to admit that I take the kid to whatever local haircut collaboration we come across when we're out. I've tried different ones, they all basically suck so far. You'd think I'd learn.

Walking into our local Cost Cutters, we find Barbie.. I mean Miss Boots with the Fur tending, (I use this term lightly) the front desk. It's dim. She's all alone & it's a bit on the humid side. This could make one a bit on edge I guess, but you're CUSTOMER SERVICE so deal sweetie.

We are greeted (another term I use lightly) with quite a bland "canIhelpyou?" <-- this is not a spelling error (you should know better, shame on you!) this is how I want you to say it, in your head or out loud whatever you like. No *smile* ~  it's *smug* ~ "canIhelpyou?" in a low kind of murmur.

Why yes Barbie you can, oddly enough we'd like a haircut. "sign-in" is muttered as she shoves the clipboard into my rib cage. Soooooo "whatarewedoing?". At this point, being that he's 17, I allow him to explain how HE'D like his hair cut as I'm sure he knows best. So I saunter over to the waiting area & whip out my phone like I'm some teenager waiting for that most important text, like what's on sale at the mall.

5, 6 maybe 7 minutes later they are STILL discussing how he'd like it cut. As I glance up I immediately comprehend her crabbiness.... she had BICHONS BITING AT HER ANKLES!!! OMG! Someone help!! Grab a hose!! Shake your leg!! Call the dog pound.... (smart ass rant ends here) seriously, it's 85° out, what's with the ankle mufflers???

Arrrrggg.... down doggies!


I see this terrified look in my son's eyes saying "please help me" so I cautiously walk over  (don't want to be dog attacked hahahahaha OK sorry, I'm done) and ask what's up. She's ranting...

"well I just don't understand what he wants." *huff* *puff* *sigh*

*in my head* a haircut... does this woman not know why she's here???

"he says they didn't use clippers last time but it's too short  for them not to have, see this, see how short it is??? (as she's tugging the back of his hair ~ which he may have enjoyed but let's not go there) I can't even cut it so I can't shorten it up but he says he wants it trimmed, I don't know what to trim."

*again in my head* his hair... am I in the Twilight Zone?

"I can't cut it if I don't clipper it. He doesn't want them. So what am I supposed to do"


I explain that he wants it trimmed up to look cleaner & thinned out because he has a Brillo pad for hair. I further explained that he doesn't want it buzzed, just short & thinned.

"I have to use the clippers then"

He says "but I don't want it buzzed"

NOW PAY ATTENTION, HERE COMES YOUR LESSON ON CLIPPERS.

*gasp, sigh, roll of the eyes* (no not me, Puss in Boots) "clippers don't just buzz, they can do ANY length, I mean I can go with a #7 and have longer hair than yours, or I can do a #5 and it'll look like I cut it by hand, once you get up to a #3 or less then it's buzz, it won't BUZZ your hair, I didn't say I'd BUZZ your hair!!!"

At this point mommy has gotten slightly irritated with her half assed shitty attitude but did my best to keep my cool. I looked her in the eyes and said
"clip away then, but unfortunately we didn't go to beauty school so we don't know clipper terminology, so if you could just cut it like this picture *pointing to wall* and use whatever tool it is to look like that, then all will be fine". I wanted to tell her to take her clippers, shave her damn ugly boots & shove it where the sun don't shine. But I didn't.

Pivot, mumble, plop... I returned to my seat to frantically text Kelly about how much of a bitch Miss Boots with the Fur is... thus the picture was taken so I could explain the nickname. And how she would NOT be getting a tip except for when I tell her she needs an attitude adjustment.

Time passes, she snips & yes she clips, buzzes whatever you wanna call it and VIOLA! We have a haircut ladies & gentlemen. Sheesh, was that so hard?

Time to check out, as I have my wallet in hand but no cash Miss Boots has a change of attitude...... wait, what's this? we have personality now?

In her nicey-nice innocent voice she says "I'm sorry for the miscommunication about the clippers, I just have had people who've told me to use a certain clipper # like a 2 or 3 & then freak out on me because it's too short, so I worry about making a mistake & upsetting the customer". I accepted her apology & said that a different way of explaining it would have lessened upsetting me since we weren't familiar with the terminology of the clippers. She again apologized.

Needless to say, the cut was decent, not GREAT, but what do you want for $13.95?

My attitude was checked and I did tip her as I would any other hair stylist. I even threw in a bone for her dogs. Hope they liked it.






Wednesday, September 19, 2012

high maintenance... Moi?

Today I was referred to as "high maintenance". 

I have to admit, this is not the first time I've been called that. I know in my head what I think of when I hear "high maintenance" and I don't feel I fit the criteria, but those who disagree please feel free to call me out on it... I know where most of you live.

How I define "High Maintenance":

One who expects everything at their beckon call, wants to be waited on & must have the cream of the crop, won't settle for less.

 
Urban Dictionary Definition:

high maintenance
1.A female that requires more than average hair/nail/pedicure/skin care services, the latest trends, name brand clothes/shoes and handbags, and lots of attention.


I may be "high maintenance" in what I expect from MYSELF. for instance, I am very particular about my hair. I'm passionate about hair. I love that it's the one thing on our body we can change & keep changing that can make a huge difference in our appearance. I can't change my nose w/o money & surgery, I can't change my short torso & long legs, I can't change my freckles. but I can change my hair, thus I'm picky about it. I like it perfect, I won't disagree about that. But how does that put anyone else out? I actually prefer no one to touch my hair. I color it myself. I only have it cut by someone else & that's it. Don't think that qualifies as "high maintenance". Oh and I pay $20 for shampoo & cut, not talking Rodeo Drive here. 

I also feel that those described under this topic must have the cream of the crop. Such as Coach, Tiffany, Lexus... whatever you have it MUST have a glitsy tag to go with it. If you wanna give those things to me I won't turn them away but definitely not a requirement to keep me whistling Dixie.


I mean, who wants a purse with the letter "C" all over it? Is this Wheel of Fortune? Can I get a "J" at least I'll know it's mine.



 
Let's rummage through some of my things...

~ I own a handbag from Marshall's, cost me $70. No where near the cost of a Coach bag. The way I treat my purses, there's no way in hell I'd spend over $100 on a purse!
~ Tiffany, yea I have her album but how does that make me "high maintenance"? Not getting this, oh well.
~ I drive a 2003 Mitsubishi Galant with my 2 "rescue" magnets & my Bills plate. How's THAT for high maintenance? Sexy kinda, huh?
~ My watch is Fossil, got it at an outlet store for about $20. I love it. So much that it's lost it's ticking ability months ago, yet I still wear it.
~ My feet see a pedicure about 2-3 times a year. My nails... never. I can't stand when I can't pick my own wedgies with those fake things on. 

~ My shoe "collection" is 70% Old Navy $2.50 flip flops. Don't be jealous.
~ Facials - never had one, never will. Touch my face & I turn into Bruce Lee. I will break your hand. Hate to be all drama but it's a huge pet peeve. No touchy my facey :)

 
LOVE this movie. If you've never seen it, do so ~ one of the BEST!
The Emperor's New Groove.

Now... do I like attention, sure, if it's positive attention but who doesn't? I like when people compliment my hair. It's an art people, it doesn't just happen. So yea I like to be recognized... but for my talents, not my arm adornment.














When I shop, which is in "discount" stores (TJ Maxx, Ross, Marshall's) I don't have personal shoppers, Kelly CHOOSES to follow me around holding my bags, by no means is it a requirement, just an added

Bottom line, I'm troubled that I have been labeled "high maintenance". I just don't think the shoe fits... not that it's not good enough, don't get me wrong!!! I just find this comparison untrue.









Thursday, September 13, 2012

settled







After a scrumptious Thai dinner at my favorite Thai restaurant with my partner Kelly & my oldest-younger sister, Hope, we retreated home, approximately 9:30pm Saturday evening.

As we're disrobing from our nice but stuffy attire, Kelly asks "do you like our life?"


 
Random. I thought. So I asked for clarification.

"Here we are, on a Saturday night, getting into our comfy clothes before 10 o'clock, are you OK with that?"

I didn't want to think too long, she's a worrier  - over analyzer - a bit sensitive (but quite wonderful)






So as I sat there with my pants half off (no this is not going to get X rated so keep reading) petting one of our 5 felines, I thought... am I?


Again, clarification is much needed when answering questions that could make or break your evening. So I insisted she explain why she would ask such a question.

Her reason for asking is that by knowing me, you know that I'm a social butterfly. I love to go, go, go & be social, social, social. Or do I? I think I did, but I don't think I do... anymore. Not sure if it's age or just life, but I am happy as a bug in a rug (why is a bug happy in a rug? I find them on my hardwood floors & they seem just as happy to me) *ADD moment* ... anywhoo....


I DID like the social life, the going out, meeting people, dancing to loud music where you have to yell at the person next to you in order to have any type of conversation. But I think I'm over this scene.

Damn, am I getting OLD?!?! ?!?!?!?!?!!?

As a young rodent, I remember questioning two specific things about my parents:

#1 - why don't they ever do anything or go anywhere?
           Now that I'm SLOWLY creeping up on my 40's,  I can answer this many ways, one being that they had 4 kids so having any kind of money for a social life was moot.

Energy. After working 5 long days & running kids all over for soccer, cheer-leading, theater, whatever else... who has energy to go out?

Peace... I think that's most important. You work with people 40 hrs+ a week, you answer to bosses, you gab on phone calls, doctor appts, make small talk with other parents at school events, conference with teachers.... so think about it... 2 days where it's just you. Whether you have someone or it's just you, it's PEACE. Pure peace. No deadlines, no meetings, no orders, no calls that must be answered.... it's what you want to do at that given time. And I've learned that that is ... nothing. And it's wonderful.

#2 - why the hell would they CHOOSE to get up before 9:00 am on a Saturday??? Absolutely absurd. What is wrong with them?

         Simple. Because you can't sleep in. Not that you don't want to, you just can't. Sure, at first it was babies & kids when they were younger but even as they get older, you still don't sleep in. In my house, it's the cats. They want fed when they want fed, end of story. And they will be sure to let you know. In addition to the demanding fur-babies... it's your body & mind's routine. I've found myself many a bright sunny morning trying to force my eye lids to shut & doze off into a deep slumber but it just doesn't happen. The vicious cycle of thoughts starts....

       "I should get up because the cats need fed & probably need water, oh which reminds me the filters need replaced in the kitchen, ugh I have to do the dishes from last night but maybe if I pretend to be asleep she'll do them first, but I need to start that crockpot meal, but need to go to the store but didn't do the list & I need coffee before I do the list and have to plan the week's meals, I should make that chicken dish that was so good, then we'll have lunch for the week too & I need to organize my recipes since I hoard them and that cupboard is jammed packed so I'll just go clean that out now... " 

and we all know you're screwed at this point so might as well just get up.

So in answer to my question, Am I getting old... NAH! I'm getting old-ER. Life is too precious to spend it sleeping or in smoky bars. I would much rather spend one on one time with friends having dinner at a quiet not-so-hot-spot (not that we've given up partying altogether, not yet!)

All in all, my butt is quite content watching our DVR'd shows with my love or sitting in the office giggling at things we find on Pinterest. Those are the things that I enjoy & that make my life so "likeable". So in answer to her question, "yes dear, I like our life very much."

Monday, September 3, 2012

Ole'!

The kid had not returned from his weekend away so we dabbled in some Mexican delights.

First was the Avocado Salsa. This was to be the appetizer, so I thought I would make it ahead of time so I wouldn't have to spend so much time in the kitchen making dinner. Needless to say, it didn't quite make it to dinner. 
Good thing I made this WAY before dinner, it was basically our lunch. We're a bit overzealous at "taste testing". 

3 hours later we started preparation of dinner, we brought out the remainders of the salsa & again indulged. 

Can I say how much I hate chopping spices? I had 3 different dishes that had cilantro & I don't even care for the flavor all that much. The whole leafy-ness of it all just irritates me. After chopping for a bit I resorted to snipping with the shears. Later to only find out that half my fingernail was missing. True story, so gross, but luckily I didn't find it.

I should take "during" pictures when I cook. I have got to be THE messiest cook. When it's all said & done it looks like Katrina hit my kitchen. From avocado stuck to the handles of the cupboards to pieces of cilantro smooshed to the bottom of my feet. I'm a hot mess. BUT the end result is often worth it. 

So here it is, the final product.... TA-DA!!
Spicy Avocado Chicken Enchiladas & Lime-Cilantro Brown Rice


Enchiladas 
(I used rotisserie chicken)
Rice
(Used Uncle Ben's Instant rice - cooks in 10-12 minutes)
Salsa
Enjoy!!!

 

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Production Flop

Not often do I have time at home alone. In my relationship we do most things together but we're often "on the go". The kiddo often comes & goes & has a clown car full of little heathens traipsing behind him, often making our home feel like a 3 ring circus. That is all fine & dandy, I like company, but when that time comes, which is rare, that I get a day or two to myself, it never pans out like my pea brain plans it. And I'm a damn good planner, it's just the follow through that is lacking at times.

So I had from Saturday morning until Sunday evening to myself. I planned on doing the laundry, cleaning the kitchen, doing the grocery shopping, vacuuming the carpets, cleaning the office & hitting the gym in between all that. Let's see how I did...

Uh.. laundry... well I did a load of towels so that deserves a
Awesome, next. Kitchen... I threw away last Sunday's newspaper so again

I'm rocking this. Grocery shopping... I've gotten the list done & the meals planned so I get a pat on the back for effort? 
 
Vacuuming... Yea I can't even try to muddle through this one. Survey says!!!

Clean the office... well I had to do the list & everything else so why bother right now?? Sheesh, gimme a freakin' break already. Gawd.

The gym... Uh... well... it's on my list today so don't judge me just yet. Besides, I have a paycheck there so that makes it all worth the while. I didn't say "work out" people, so get your info right, I said "hitting the gym". So there. 

Not too shabby. 

I should have put shower on that list. Why bother, we all know I'm not going anywhere. 

I played games online ... Chefville is my new addiction but just for this weekend, I won't have time when life kicks into gear again so I will have spoiled dishes & wilted plants, kinda like real life.

I Pinned because I am a pin-whore Come Stalk Me!

I played with my furry friends ♥
I hung with my family jammin' to some local tunes Voxology - they are amazing.
So the time spent was not a wash, I enjoyed the solitude but will be glad to have the fam back..... until we meet again quiet time.