Caught Red-Handed

I have a secret. I don't tell many people...not because I'm ashamed, but because I don't like having to explain myself. See, I know a lot of people who love to read (as I do), and this particular secret upsets them the most.

I'm a to-the-end-flipper.

That's right. I flip to the end of books and read the last page (or more). And I was caught red-handed, by the author of the very book I was reading.

Let me explain.

First of all, I don't read the end of books before I start the book. I've never really understood that. Reading the end of a story where you don't even know the characters or plot would seem very confusing and pointless to me. So I read about 80-100 pages and then I flip to the end. By that point I already know the characters and I have a sense of where the story is going. When I read the end I either think "YES! I can totally see where this is going!" or "HUH? Wow, I can't wait to see how we get there!"

I can't really tell you exactly why I have this habit, but I think it's mostly curiosity. It's also because I have given up on many of the "rules" of reading (like I mentioned in my post about "reader's independence"), such as feeling like you have to finish every book you start, or that you can only read one book at a time. And I enjoy reading the end of books while I'm in the middle of them, so I just continue to do it.

I don't think that I ever "ruin" the book I'm reading. When my sister gave me the book My Sister's Keeper, she made me promise that I wouldn't flip to the end because there was a big twist and I wouldn't see it coming and it was so good and I would just ruin the whole thing if I flipped to the end. So when we were sitting on the dock later that day and I said "Oh my goodness, that is a crazy ending!" she said "You finished it already?!" and I (sheepishly) said "no...I flipped to the end....". And I swear, it didn't ruin the book for me!

ANYWAY. On to the real reason for this post.......

I was reading Notes From the Tilt-A-Whirl by N.D. Wilson (which I recommend) and I flipped to the end. I skimmed the final few pages (it's not a novel, so I was just poking around the end of the book) and I decided to read the "gratitude" section. Imagine my surprise when I read the following:

"Thank you for spinning with me, for sharing in the dizziness, and for making it this far. Assuming, of course, that you got this far through the traditional means and not by villainously flipping to the end first. If you are a to-the-end-flipper, then my thoughts about you are dark and my feelings to not involve gratitude."

AHHHH! The author totally called me out! I am the villainous to-the-end-flipper. I laughed out loud. Since I thought this was hilarious, I started to tell people how the author caught me red-handed for being a to-the-end-flipper while I was to-the-end-flipping, and I've been met with much animosity from my reading-loving friends. People are shocked that I would be a to-the-end-flipper (which is why only my sisters have known of this habit until recently).

So, now you know. Don't hate me. And in order for you to not hate me, I will leave you with a few more of my favorite sections from Notes From the Tilt-A-Whirl.

"What is the best of all possible feelings? What is the best of all possible things? The best of all possible creatures? Clearly, the best of all possible feelings is the one that comes when the agony of too much time in the car with an overextended bladder has finally been alleviated. Such sweet relief remains unparalleled."

"[My son] cannot think of a way to express himself, and so he takes out the wallet we gave him to hold ice cream money from his grandmothers. He takes out his dollars and throws them in the grass. "They're not important," he says, and shrugs, blinking. He's right. I help him pick them up. Paper and ink are not important. Wealth is unimportant next to souls. So are legs and fingers, all five senses. So is life. But gratitude is all-important. Everything is a gift. Every smell, every second, every ice cream dollar. Gratitude for the whole story, from beginning to end, gratitude for the valleys and the shadows that lead us to the novel's final page. Take a step and thank God, for He holds you in His hand. Never ask to be put down. Never struggle for separation or for worth apart from His gifts. Breath, taste His world, His words, and marvel that you are here to feel the blowing swirl of life. To be blown by it. Enjoy your ice cream."

"And I move on, with the sun on my face. Clouds are growing in the west, glorious clouds piled up with rowdy care and sparked with electric life. I fill my lungs with the world, with this life, with this gift beyond containing. There is only one thing I can say. Thank you. And I must say it with my life. Through my life. To the end of my life. And after."

My Appendix Saved My Sight

We all know the story of my appendix. Moral of the story: if you seem sick or "off", do something about it. Don't let it get out of control and become a scary situation that could have been avoided.

And thanks to that lesson I learned when my appendix burst, my sight has been saved.*

Yesterday I thought I had a sty on my eyelid. I've had them before: my eyelid was a little irritated, it was slightly swollen, etc. A friend at kickball gave me great advice to get a hot compress on it. I did that before bed and hoped it would be better in the morning.

It was NOT. My eye was more swollen, and much more painful. I began to think that it was more than a sty, and I was glad that I was getting together with sister, MD, for dinner so that she could take a look at it. By 8am, I was glad that I was having lunch with one of my favorite doctors so that he could take a look at it rather than waiting until dinner. By 9am, I was making an appointment with an optometrist because it was REALLY making me worried. I didn't wear any makeup to work, and I was glad that I hadn't, because my eye was not doing well. I was starting to remind myself of Quasimodo.

I got to the appointment with the optometrist and she immediately said that I would need an antibiotic. She gave me an eye exam (which I haven't had since 1996...) and said that I pretty much had the best vision she's ever encountered (hence me not having an exam since 1996....). Then she wanted to take a closer look at my eye. At this point she was more concerned about the swelling she was seeing, and after a closer look said, "Oh, I can see this is much more than a sty. I'm so glad you came it. This is periorbital cellulitis". Since I don't know what that means, I just nodded my head. She continued, "There's nothing to be concerned about at this point, but if you would have let this go and get on the inside of your eyelid, you would have an ocular emergency and I'd be sending you to the ER".

Okay. This can be serious if I don't stay on top of it. At dinner, I was telling my sister about my day and she informed me that she once had a patient in the hospital for over three weeks who had a few surgeries thanks to periorbital cellulitis. Yikes. Not that I would have been in that same situation if I would have let this go, but I am glad that my appendix incident has made me more wisely cautious when it comes to my health. In other words, my appendix saved my sight.

In an effort to not be completely vain, I'm handling the instruction to not wear any makeup until Monday pretty well. I do feel silly not wearing makeup to work since I work in an industry that is pretty vain (entire TV episodes have been dedicated to how good-looking the people in my industry are....), but I'll manage (mostly by wearing sunglasses). I do plan on cheating a little, though. There is absolutely NO WAY I won't wear makeup when I go to Miss Minnesota on Saturday. Part of the fun of going is putting on fake lashes and doing my makeup all fancy. So I plan on taking really good care of my eye until then, and after then, but I will live it up for those few hours.

Okay, off to compress my eye with heat! Thankful that I can still see!

*This is quite possibly overly dramatic. But that's how I tell stories.

Neighborhood Debate

I love my neighborhood. It is tucked into the city, close to a nice lake, not far from downtown, and just blocks away from easy public transportation to the biggest mall in America, the Dome, the airport, or the heart of downtown. There are chain restaurants within ten minutes, but I prefer the fact that there are many non-chain restaurants within two minutes. Add in a cute neighborhood coffee shop and a beautiful bike trail and I am just as happy as a clam.

My AP is convinced my neighborhood is.....scary? Not safe? I don't know...but she doesn't really like it. Partly she is teasing me because she is very much a suburbs-girl, but she flatly refuses to consider a move into the city. And that's fine with me - to each their own.

When she had to leave her car at my house on Saturday night due to losing her keys, she said "Will my car be safe there overnight?!" to which I replied "You mean right where I park my car every night? Yeah, I think you're fine." [Again, she is mostly kidding.]

So when she picked her car up on Sunday, she drove a few blocks and snapped a picture and sent it to me on my phone. I started laughing SO hard when I saw the following:

The caption read: "just a quaint safe corner cafe in minneapolis"

Now, while this doesn't prove her point, it may help her case.

I have probably driven past this cafe everyday for three years and I have never given a second thought to the name. I guess it's all about perspective. And now my AP has changed mine. Only about the name of the cafe, though. Not about anything else in the 'hood.

The Baby Whisperer

So.....apparently I'm not The Baby Whisperer.

Two weeks ago I babysat for a 10-month-old (expectedly), and 6-month-old and two-year-old sisters (unexpectedly). You'd be right if you thought it was completely crazy to watch two babies and a toddler. I don't know how moms do it. I held the 10-month-old from 8-10PM while he cried and cried, rocked the six-month-old in her car seat with my foot intermittently, and followed the two-year-old around while she checked out a whole new set of toys. It was chaos...and it was hilarious. I pretty much thought it should have been a scene in a sitcom (like many other days in my life).

I babysat last night for a five-month-old, a three-year-old and a five-year-old. Again, from 8-10PM the baby cried and cried. Especially frustrating for me was the fact that the mother (and the brothers) indicated that the baby doesn't cry when she goes to bed. Hmmmm. I must have some effect on babies after 8PM. All they want to do is cry.

But last night was made tolerable thanks to great comments from the boys. Like when the five-year-old asked my roommate (who came over to babysit with me) "Were you happy on the day I was born?" Well...neither of us knew him at the time, but the question probably stems from some kind of realization that people are awfully happy about his baby sister. Anyway, that made me smile. Another interaction that made me smile:

Me: [pointing to the (green) pet bird] "What's this bird's name?"
Boy, age 5: "Bluebird."
Me: [hiding a smile] "Oh."
Boy, age 5: "He used to have a blue tail."
Me: [pointing to the other pet bird] "What about this one?"
Boy, age 3: "Tee Tee. His last name is Bee Bee."
Me: [stifling a laugh]: "Tee Tee Bee Bee?"
Boy, age 5: [looking out the window very thoughtfully] "I think it's a good name for a yellow bird."
Me: [a chuckle escapes] "You're right."

Tonight I am babysitting again, but there will be no babies under 12-months-old, so hopefully when 8PM strikes things won't spiral out of control. I'm sure it will be fine, seeing as I've never been around these girls when they've been anything less cute and fun.

I Take Steroids

No, I'm not pursuing a career in professional baseball.

Oh, man. If I had one word to describe this week it would be "itchy".

First it was the chiggers (lake itch/swimmer's itch) I picked up over the Fourth.

SO ITCHY. NO SLEEPY.

Then last night I suddenly got red bumps on my elbows. I thought it was very strange, but assumed I must have set my elbows on something at the outdoor tables at Dairy Queen earlier that evening. I washed my elbows, took some Benadryl, and slept like a baby. Ahhhhh.

AND THEN.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up this morning was how I couldn't clench my fists. My hands felt so funny. They were SO SWOLLEN. Hmmm. I glanced at my elbows and saw how they were very bumpy and very hot-feeling. Hmmm. Then the LEGS. Have you seen the movie Hitch? 'Cause my legs looked like Hitch's face after he eats fish. WHOA. I'm not known for being the most alert or perceptive person in my first waking moments, but this chain of events brought me into reality in a hot tick.

I rushed my getting-ready-for-the-day, ran over to pick up my boss (who I had already planned to pick up at 6:40 to run to a meeting together), and quickly got confirmation from her that I should go directly to the doctor - do not pass go. Then I called doctor-sister (and woke her up on her vacation - sorry) to see if she thought I was allergic to almonds. Not sure how I thought she was going to figure that out for me, but it's the only thing I can think of that might have caused a reaction like that. I haven't eaten almonds....ever? I seriously can't think of when I would have eaten almonds. I always pick them out of trail mix, or if I do eat them in trail mix, I only eat a few. But yesterday I had about 30. I couldn't help it. They were covered in Dove Milk Chocolate, ATHANKYOUVERYMUCH.

Four hours after visiting the doctor I had taken steroids, ended the CRAZY ITCHING, and watched my legs turn back to normal. WHEW!

Now I'm headed out to practice my swing. I think the Twins need someone new in left field.

Good Morning?

Well, the wake-up part of this morning could have gone better...

[Alarm rings]

[HB hits snooze]

[Alarm rings]

[HB hits snooze]

[HB promptly realizes that she should NOT be hitting snooze....]

[HB QUICKLY sits STRAIGHT up in bed]

HB: "OH NO!"

[EB, who is spending the night, is awoken]

EB: "What..."

HB: "I missed my tennis match!"

[HB hastily grabs her cell phone, now realizing she is more than 20 minutes late for her match. She simultaneously feels terrible for the player she has left waiting for a match that won't happen and about the thirty dollars she will owe the club for missing a match]

Tennis Club Man: "Hello"

HB: "Hi, I was calling to say that I am going to miss my league match this morning"

Tennis Club Man: "Umm....we don't have leagues this morning"

HB: [thinking she has lucked out and managed to sleep in on one of the days when there are byes] "Oh, great! Thanks!"

[HB hangs up phone and lays back in bed]

HB: "There's no league today. I guess they have byes today."

EB: "Don't you have tennis on Mondays?"

HB: "Yeah, at 6:30, but he said there are no leagues today."

EB: "It's Sunday."

[long pause]

HB: "Wait. What? Wait. Oh, man. It's Sunday? I had no idea it was Sunday. Wait a minute. What day is it? I never would have known it was Sunday!"

EB: "You just told me last night that you might happen to wake me up when you were getting dressed in the morning because you didn't know what you wanted to wear to church."

[long pause]

HB: "Yeah."

EB: "Do you still have time to make it to Welcome Team?"

[HB checks the clock]

HB: "Oh, yeah, I have 40 minutes."

[HB lays back down, sleeps for a moment, starts laughing...]

HB: "I can't believe that..."

EB: "HB! LET ME SLEEP!"

---End Scene---

This dramatization might not be EXACTLY accurate (because I was obviously out of it at the time), but it is very, very close. I've been known to be a bit groggy when I get up in the morning, but today really takes the cake. We've all had days when we wake up and are not sure what day it is, but it usually only takes a few moments to realize what is going on. I actually made a call and was told there were no leagues, and I STILL thought it was Monday. Yikes.

Wedding Season

YAY!

It’s wedding season!!

I hosted my first (and I guess only) bridal shower of the season last Thursday. We had a nice time, which I hope makes up for the invitation: I sent an announcement to be put in the weekly church update that goes out to all members. Imagine my HORROR when the announcement came out and it said BABY shower, not bridal shower! How embarrassing! I ran to my email to make sure I hadn't made the error, which I hadn't, but I still felt horrible! Especially since the girl being honored is a very new member at church who many people still haven't been acquainted with. Anyway, a correction was sent out, so it was all fine and we had a good laugh about it. NO baby shower, yet. Just a bridal shower. Oy.

I also attended another bridal shower on Sunday, and this coming weekend the actual weddings start!

I seriously LOVE wedding season. I love seeing groups of people who have been in hiding from my life since the last wedding season, and I LOVE celebrating my wonderful friends and the love they have found and share with special people. I also love getting to know those new special people because, as I have mentioned, my friends' husbands are the bomb.

So, it’s time to break out the cute dresses, awkward dance moves, and Kleenex (since I cry like a BABY at weddings) and get my WEDDING SEASON on!! WHOO!

To My GPS

Dearest GPS,

I am so sorry that I didn't protect you better. I should have kept you with me. I shouldn't have left you in the car all by yourself to be snatched away in the middle of the night.

We had so many good times together. You always knew when to tell me to turn and you continually put up with me being a scatterbrain and needing a detour. I remember all the times you gave me a phone number I needed or told me where the nearest McDonald's was (BLESS YOUR HEART). You even put up with my constant refusals to buy the map updates. Those were the good times.

So last night when the dog woke me up with crazy barking, I had no idea that a stranger was breaking the window of my car to take you away from me. I'll be okay for the rest of this week, but I'm pretty sure I'll be rushing to replace you this weekend, seeing as I'm going to some of my new clinics next week and I will be lost otherwise.

But don't worry. I'm heartbroken for the time being. Pizza and ice cream are easing my pain, but all I really want is my GPS back (and a few map updates).

I hope you at least go to a nice person on EBay.

Love,
HB

Starting Off On the Wrong Foot

I spent time with a friend and her sweet three month old last night. I got to hold him and snuggle with him for a few hours. It was wonderful.

Problem is, I was also holding him when I FELL DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS.

It. was. the. worst.

Thank goodness I fell backwards onto my butt and slid down, instead of falling face first. And it wasn't the longest staircase in the world (I probably only fell 7-10 stairs), so that helps some. And his mom was right there to comfort him, so that helps a lot.

But still. He was so scared. I wanted to crawl into a hole.

It didn't seem like he was hurt, so that was wonderful. I've been thinking about how awful it could have been all day (thanks to the pain in my back and neck as a reminder of the tumble).

Didn't exactly start out the new year on the right foot. To say the least.

Mister Mouse

I babysat last night for a little boy who LOVES to read. It was so fun to snuggle with him before bedtime and read from his favorite book of short stories.

We read about Pierre chasing the robber. We read about the sly fox who outsmarts the crow. We read about bunnies, and colors, and birds, and shapes.

But my favorite story was the one about Mister Mouse.

You see, Mister Mouse was lonely. Then one day he got a letter from Mistress Mouse. She was lonely too, and wanted him to come to her house. Even though he had no idea where Mistress Mouse lived, he set out to find her. Along the way he ran into Mister Cat, Mrs. Hen, and Mister Lion, but he eventually found Mistress Mouse. And they got married – on the spot! They went on picnics and car rides and were never lonely again!

What a great story. I just had no idea that is how it all worked.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a letter to write.

Prepare to Bawl.Your.Eyes.Out.

For someone who doesn't like Oprah's show that much, I sure do mention it a lot. And I am SO glad I caught the last bit of it today.

I actually only turned it on in time to see the last minute of this video, and I was SOBBING at just that. So please, take the six minutes to watch this video......and get the Kleenex.

What an amazing couple. What amazing faith. What amazing creativity. I'm so thankful to see the Lord's many blessings in their lives, even through their immense pain.

I'm also so thankful to see this story on Oprah. Their video speaks to the miracle of life, the preciousness of life, and the sanctity of life.

The couple was on the show via Skype and they are two weeks from delivering another baby. I pray they will be showered with many blessings again.

My favorite lines from the video:

"The logic of medicine says you shouldn't be alive, but you are."

"An underdeveloped lung, a heart with a hole in it, and DNA that placed faulty information into each and every cell of your body could not stop God from reveling Himself through a child who never uttered a word. Not a pulpit, not a slick presentation, not a best selling book. But a six pound boy with Trisomy 18. God found great pleasure to take a lowly thing in the eyes of the world and show truth."

(If you have trouble with the link, search for the video "99 Balloons" on YouTube)

Anti-Dentite

I went to the dentist today.

I can say absolutely-beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt-one-hundred-percent that going to the dentist is just my least favorite thing. EVER.

Hands in mouth, drool, bad tastes, nasty-feeling scraping, bleeding, mouth-open grunted responses. It is just all awful. But my aunt is my dentist, so I go. With a major chip on my shoulder.

Except for those six years when I went....never. And ended up with six cavities. I think somewhere in the Bible it talks about a curse for each year you neglect something. It's probably in Numbers (but I know it's not, because I am studying Numbers right now and you would be surprised at all the cool stuff in there! Seriously - check out the Old Testament! Yes I'm talking to you - person who never reads anything but Paul's letters - go read it!).

Anyway, dentist = hate. Add to the aforementioned "reasons to hate a dentist" the fact that my TMJ is apparently much worse than I thought it was, and you have one very bummed girl. My aunt recommended I see an orthodontist (the same guy I ignored eight years ago when he said he wanted to break my jaw). When you say "let me break your jaw - you won't have those headaches anymore" I say "I don't really know what it's like to not have a headache anyway, so athankyouverymuch, but you will not be breaking my jaw". I guess that in some cases it is more than just a headache-relief-procedure and bad TMJ could have to do with functionality (or lack thereof) down the road, so this referral is something I will actually have to follow through on and see what is up.

*SIGH*

So in light of that part of my day, I decided to make a list of 10 random things that have made me smile (like, big smiles) in the last 24 hours. It is so much more pleasant than thinking about the dentist. (sorry, Aunt)

1. Dots (the candy)
2. The Planet Earth Series (saw 5 minutes at a friend's house last night and I wanted to WATCH ALL 6 DISCS IN A ROW. Seriously. A-MAZ-ING)
3. Third basketball league win (undefeated this fall season!)
4. Sharpies
5. Electric blanket
6. Howie
7. Happy Hour at MASA (oh-just-the-best-Mexican-place-in-town)
8. Two free meals in one day
9. New phone
10. Root Beer at lunch (a surprise for me from a nice, thoughtful doctor who shares my love of RB)

So really, when put in perspective, my 30 minutes at the dentist was just a blip on the screen, but still. The fluoride on my teeth feels GROSS.

A Recipe for Living in the Moment

I am happy to say that I am doing pretty well with my goal to cook once each week. I've only missed one week, due to the mishap with the dogs. So I've tried new recipes, enjoyed some time to myself, improved my diet, and learned a lot (mostly about spices).

Most cooking and baking comes pretty naturally to me. I grew up around it, with my mom being an EXCELLENT caterer. Cooking doesn't really intimidate me since it really comes down to just following the instructions. Plus, if I have any questions, I have my mom - the walking encyclopedia on cooking - just one call away.

Not that it is all going perfectly. I would definitely be sugar-coating the situation if I didn't mention the fact that I am a complete scatterbrain. COMPLETE. I think it has something to do with the fact that I am an obsessive list maker, wiping out my need for any memory, thus creating a perpetual scatterbrained state. But that is another post.

This week I decided to make meatloaf. I only needed to buy the meat - which is thrilling to me, seeing as I am trying to build up the "pantry" that was previously completely bare! I actually have cooking basics in the house now! If you came over unannounced, I might not have to send you to the Tom Thumb to scrounge up some dinner! Yay! But I digress....

I bought the meat, rushed home, and put the meat on the stove. 15 minutes later, once the meat was browned, I realized my mistake. You don't brown the meat before you put it in the oven to cook into meatloaf! DOH! I figured there must be something I could make with 2 lbs of browned meat, but I didn't have the energy to look anything up, so I just called Mom. Of course she knew right off the top of her head that I should make Sloppy Joes, and she told me the recipe right then and there. Again, I had all the ingredients, and these are the most DELICIOUS Sloppy Joes ever (it's the brown sugar...)! I had forgotten how much I love Mom's food.

So now I'm tweaking my plan a bit. I will still cook once a week, but I am going to start with Mom's recipes. I want to know how to cook the standards I grew up with. And the best part is that my aunt wrote two cook books (like totally-legit-sold-millions-of-copies-cook-books), so I know exactly where to find every single recipe.

Plus, I'm really trying to live in the moment and not be living in a state of waiting for something to happen. Like "when I get married, then I'll (fill in the blank - "start cooking")". I do that a lot, and I can't always be waiting for something to happen, because I just don't know if I'll get married, or get a raise, or live somewhere else. I am single, living in this place, right now, with this job, these friends, going to this church, so I need to make the most of it.

And I'll start by mastering Mom's recipes. Married or not.

On Dogs.....and Gag Reflexes

Don't be confused. There is a connection. And of course, a story. Or two.

First: I have a strong gag reflex. Is strong the right word? I gag while doing dishes, brushing my teeth, and when I smell bad things.

Second: I am a "small dog person". I love my roommate's dog, Howie. Please, indulge me and admire his cuteness:

No, that is not a stuffed animal. He is a real, living, breathing dog. To prove that he is very alive, very cute, and very tough, check out this video:

Okay, I'll stop. For now.

On to the story.

Now and again I dog sit for my manager. She has a BIG dog and a normal size dog. Here they are:

Ginormous. GI-NOR-MOUS.

She also has two cats. I am very-much-so not a cat person. But whatev. I deal.

Last time I dog-sat, she was gone for two weeks, so that meant picking up the poo in the yard, cleaning out the litter box, etc. INSERT GAG REFLEX HERE! I did okay while I was outside cleaning the poo where I had an ample amount of fresh air, but in the small room with the litter box, I was really struggling. I kept gasping for air and gagging, gagging, gagging. I thought it might be a good idea to put my shirt up over my nose so that the smell wouldn't bother me as much. That worked for a few minutes until I didn't respond fast enough to a very strong gag and I THREW UP INSIDE MY SHIRT. I could have simply pulled the shirt down and thrown up into the litter box, but no. I simply threw up in my shirt. Try getting that shirt off without making a mess all over your face. Yeah. Ugh.

This week I am just dog-sitting for a few nights, so I don't need to worry about the litter box. Good. But then came this morning. Fynn woke me up early with her barking, and when I opened my door I was greeted with a rancid smell. I walked downstairs to find doggy-diarrhea and throw up all over the living room. I spent the next hour and a half cleaning (and gagging). I wasn't really sure what to do for the dogs, but I hoped the sickness had passed and I headed to work.

Well, the sickness returned. I was greeted with more diarrhea and throw up when I got back from work. Poor puppy. Poor me.

To review: I really love these dogs and I love to dog-sit, but I am more pleased each day to have my beloved Howie. And his little, clean poops.

Seriously?!

Q: Have you ever been non-stop busy for four straight days and been very productive only to see your to-do list get longer and longer?
A: Yes. Very much so. Uh-huh.

I have just had an incredibly busy week. My work computer crashed, so I am recreating every report known to man, and I am still catching up on other things from being gone on vacation. I haven’t done any socializing at all, and work has just seemed to dominate my whole week. Even though it was a short week, I was SO looking forward to Friday. But then it came. And things seemed like they were unraveling.

It started with me waking up late (I was supposed to leave the house at 6:30 and I woke up at 6:37) and showing up late for a very important appointment. I was also unshowered. There was also no food or coffee in my belly. This, dear friends, let me tell you, is a person you do NOT want to encounter at the end of a long week. But alas, things went all right and I was off to pick up the lunch I ordered for another clinic.

As I went to get out of my car, I grabbed the door handle and it fell out. I tried every way I could, and there was no way to reattach it and get out of the driver’s door. All I could think was “Seriously?!” How does that happen?! I had a very busy few hours coming up with many appointments, so that meant getting in and out of my car many, many times. And it’s not like I have a car where I can just slide over to the passenger side and get out. Oh, no. I have an SUV. So that means literally taking all six feet of my body (in a suit) and climbing over the console to get out of the passenger side. Quite the scene.

It wasn’t until I had performed this act four times (and frantically called my service station to get a new handle before the weekend set in) that I realized there was nothing wrong with the handle from the outside of the car, so really all I need to do is roll down my window and open the door from the outside. Again, all I could think was “Seriously?!” I must have really been out of it and frazzled to not think of that. How stupid.

I ended up getting to the service station (they’ll fix it next week) and I got most of my appointments and errands done. Then it was back home for some Chinese delivery and watching movies while I do more work. I’m hoping to get most of my work done tonight so I can really enjoy my long weekend. I won’t be going back to work until next Wednesday, seeing as I’ll be going to Green Bay for the VIKES/PACK game on Monday night. I CANNOT WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I mean, really. I’m still chuckling that I didn’t figure out to roll down my window. Seriously! I wish you could have seen it.

State Fair Review

Mind you, my sisters and I only go to the Fair for 2-3 hours. Certainly you could spend 11 days at the Fair and still not see everything, but we simply don't have that kind of stamina or gumption. There's only so much walking, sweating and strange smells I can tolerate. So we spend a few hours cramming food down our throats and seeing our few standard favorite things. This year we were down one sister, but we still made the most of it.

What I Ate:

• Cheese Curds
• Pinacolada Smoothie
• Soft Pretzel
• Deep Fried Candy Bar
• Lemonade
• Sweet Martha's Cookies
• Unlimited Milk

We have our list of every-year-items (mine are above). We also like to add one food item each year, and this year I was going to add chocolate covered bacon. By the time we got to the booth, I was too sick to eat it. Maybe next year. Problem is that I will probably have to take something off the list of regulars to make room for new food. Not sure I'm willing to do that. Or we could stay at the Fair longer to work up an appetite, but I'm not too willing to do that either.

Things I saw:

• Bethel University Booth (free water bottle)
• 4H Building (Didn't really like how things were organized this year. At least from the part I walked through, I couldn't find a section of just quilts - the quilts were scattered around different displays in the building. I just wanted them all in one place)
• Butter-heads
• Big Pig (1200 lbs. Yuck)
• Miracle of Birth (or, as I call it, the Birthy Booth. A friend of mine was working there, so it was fun to see her and the cute little lambs born 2 hours before that she was taking care of)
• Grand Stand vendors

Again, these are our regulars. This year our new booth to visit was KFAN and it was definitely the HIGHLIGHT! First of all, the people watching was world class. The people watching at the Fair is always amazing, but I have never seen such a collection of people in one place - especially the ones who would approach the microphone to talk on the radio! Definitely some heavy drinking going on at the Fair.

The best part of KFAN was that my sister nominated me to sing on the radio. They were doing a karaoke contest for Micheal Jackson's 50th birthday (I know, can you believe he's 50?!). So after some coaxing, I sang The Way You Make Me Feel. My sister had to buy me Sweet Martha's as a bribe, but it made for a good State Fair memory, so I'm glad I did it. Pretty sure I sounded TERRIBLE since I can hardly sing to start with and the song was way too high for this alto. But oh well. It's a story to tell.

OH YEAH! I almost forgot - I also won The State Fair Game, so my sister also had to purchase my pretzel. All in all, I came out way ahead on the evening and had an enjoyable time.

Number 10

If you’ve known me for more than a day, you know that I love fast food. That’s because I eat fast food at least once a day (IT’S CALLED CONSISTENCY, PEOPLE). Some of you are thinking “ewww” and some of you are thinking “yum”. I really think it is a combination of both. Totally yummy-grossness.

My disease is so rampant that in high school, my town had no Burger King, so I would drive 30 minutes (one way) JUST to eat Burger King. MMMM…..flame broiled. I really like so many of the fast food restaurants, but my tried and true fave is McDonald’s (who’s isn’t?!). I like it more each day, and it’s not because they’ve improved their menu with salads and “apple fries”. Look, MickeyD’s, you can add as many healthy options as you want, and I will still order the 10 piece Chicken McNuggets. *cue mouth watering*

I hardly ever waver from ordering this meal, however over the years I have changed my habits a bit. For a while I didn’t order the fries. Also, I used to always order BBQ sauce, but then one fateful day in Rome I was starving, so we caved and went to a McDonald's, where my friend ordered sweet and sour with her nuggets. One dip and I was hooked.

So you can imagine my disappointment when I drove through McDonald’s last night and ordered the WRONG MEAL! I said “Number 10 with Sprite” and moments later, as I arrived at the window to pay, I realized that I was thinking 10 piece nuggets, which caused me to say TEN when the nuggets are actually Number 12 (I know – don’t confuse an ABSENT MINDED SCATTERBRAIN with ADD, okay?!). Oops. I dreaded what meal awaited me at the next window. At best, a cheeseburger. At worst, a fish sandwich. It turned out to be a chicken sandwich (with pickles – just pickles). Not so bad. I lived to tell about it.

This whole situation made me consider changing things up a bit and working my way through the menu. I suppose if I am going to eat fast food everyday I could at least vary the meal choices. I entertained that thought for all of three seconds before my mouth started watering for some chicken nuggets with sweet and sour. I mean, seriously. What do they put in those things?!

She Can Be Taught!

Big news: last night I went to the doctor. Why is that big news, you ask? Well, because just one year ago this week I refused to pay attention the horrible pain in my stomach for 6 days until my sisters forced me to go to the doctor and they found my appendix had BURST and I had a little infection issue…..yikes. Emergency surgery, 4 days in the hospital, another week laid up at home, and tons of antibiotics later, I learned my lesson. PAY ATTENTION to your body or you very well may become septic and not wake up again (which the doctor said could have happened in my case).

The short story of my appendix is (WARNING: I don’t do short stories…) that on a Saturday night I had some pain in my stomach. Didn’t think much of it, but at church the next morning I was very tired and some friends said that I looked sick. Later that afternoon I had a fever, but I still packed my bag to go to Kansas City for a three day business meeting. The meeting was important enough that I could ignore the pain during the day (while I alternated eating Tylenol and Advil like candy), but the evenings were terrible! One evening our activity was to go to the Royals/Yankees game. I really wanted to see an outdoor baseball game and I also didn’t want to back out because “my stomach hurts” (there were 14 of us and I was the only female. I could just imagine what they would think of me). So I toughed it out. I got back to the cities on Wed and proceeded to go on another trip for business to Wisconsin. On the drive home Friday night I felt SO SICK. My sisters were going to meet me at my house to go to the cabin for a Sisters Only weekend. Well, when I told them how I felt they FORCED me to go to the hospital. I just wanted to get to Brainerd and see if I still felt sick the next day, but they (thankfully) convinced me to take the detour. That was about 8pm on Fri, and by 2am I was being cut open. My poor sisters. On their only weekend off from working in the hospital, they spent their cabin weekend at a hospital with me.

People who have appendicitis don’t usually get to the point where it bursts since the pain usually gets them to a hospital before that point. But I just ignored and ignored and ignored the signs. My mother was (rightfully) very concerned that I did that, so I made a promise that I wouldn’t do it again.

Here’s the problem: it seems like every time I go to the doctor, they have no idea what is going on with me. So that is why I avoid going. Even with my appendix, I thought they would tell me I was constipated and send me home with a laxative. Usually I just have a strange virus or a really bad cold, so I just decide that I am tough enough to let it pass, but I learned quickly that appendicitis doesn’t just pass…

So last night when my fever topped 101, I could hardly swallow, I was having chills, and my ENTIRE BODY ACHED, I went to Now Care. I thought I might have Avian Flu. More realistically I figured I had strep (or that’s what I was hoping, so as to not waste my time and theirs). I wanted to get medicine before I went to the cabin for the weekend. No such luck. Just a bad virus. Meh. So here I am, at home, still with a fever, still with aching, but hoping it passes soon so I can head north!

And again, I feel silly for going to the doctor for “nothing”. But there is no doubt I am sick, and I also proved that I can be taught!