alright...another goal.

If you remember, earlier this year (or was it last year?) I set a goal to do a triathlon...or wait, was it a half marathon? or maybe a 10k? hell, I don't remember, but in any case, I set it and then totally didn't do it. Apparently having accountability to my blog readers doesn't help. Soooo, the obvious thing to do this time is to...um...well, have accountability to my blog readers. I see now that this may be an issue, but nonetheless, here I go.

::clears throat::

I'm going to train for the Dallas White Rock Marathon, December 14th. Wait, the half-marathon portion of it. Sigh...yes, let me set a goal that will involve the beltsander of death. Oh, and on a sidenote, I'm going to the doctor tomorrow...my hand still hurts, my knee is healing but still hurts and apparently when you get a tetnaus shot it hurts and swells for days on end. WTF? But I digress. I'm using this training guide http://www.halhigdon.com/halfmarathon/novice.htm and seeing what happens. I've never run more than 4 miles so this should be interesting.

Anyway, wish me luck! Or don't! Really just cross you fingers that I don't die at the hands of an out of control treadmill....that'd be greaaaat. thnxs.

On to other news. I never talked about my California trip! I swear to start in the next day or so...some of the stories are too weird not to share. What? I'll only be like three weeks late.

And one more tidbit. I paited my room this weekend. I got a wild hair and decided it *must* be done the very second I thought of it. So I did...broken hand and all. Not the smartest thing ever but it just HAD to be done.

No before pictures..at least on purpose, so here's a random pic of Daisy so you can see the day-glo yellow. And then an after so you can see the calm, soothing blue (Faint Flicker to be exact.)

well, that was the biggest mish-mash of a post I think I've ever done...I think that's a sign I need to go to bed...goodnight!

This makes me want to bake pies and stay at home with the kids...

check them out!

http://www.carolynskitchenonline.com/index.html

Working out is hazerdous to your health...

....you heard it here first! So I went to the doctor this morning. After some poking and prodding, he decided to take x-rays. It must be mentioned that today my hand is less swollen, but now a lovely shade of brown. And the palm had a lovely tinge of black. But overall it feels somewhat better to the point that I was thinking I may not go. But due to the prodding of certain individuals, I decided to bite the bullet.

And what did doc in the box tell me?

Twins!!

Awww, aren't they so cute?? Wish me luck!

Alright, back to reality. So he said he *thinks* I broke my hand. Like the pinkie bone, but in my hand. He showed me the films and I was like....uhhh, I'm not sure what I'm looking for here. I mean, it's not like I have some sort of grotesque compound fracture that is sticking out of the skin and shit. Only one of the x-rays caught it but he is deeming it a fracture and told me I would have to go to an Orthopedic hand specialist to get further treatment. He put me in a pinkie splint and a wrist splint (ya know, one of those carpel tunnel looking wrist things) and sent me on my way. I wore that shit all day. When I left for school it finally dawned on me that the splint was making it hurt worse so I took it off and don't intend to put it back on. In fact, I can type in caps now! woo hoo! don't get me wrong, it still hurts like a bitch if I do certain things. My eyes cross and it takes my breath away (take my breath awaaaaaay a a aaaaaaa, a a aaaaaaaa, a a aaaaaa <--Top Gun, anyone?) so I'll still probably go to the other doc, but at least I don't have to wear that silly split. Ya wanna know what *really* hurts? Like, what started hurting worse and worse as the day progressed? Like, what stopped me from going to class tonight? I got all the way there and almost cried at the thought of walking all the way from the parking lot. What? My freaking knee of death. Wanna see? I've had to tell the story a million more times and have now started responding with 'I got in a fight' just to avoid the inevitable roaring laughter when I tell the treadmill story. Seriously. This was forwarded to me at work today along with all my co-workers.



And they were laughing so hard they were crying. I must admit, I've gotten a pretty good laugh out of it as well. Occasionally though I want to run over their faces with a belt sander....but only sometimes.

My SVP asked me today if I was alright. I had told him the story yesterday. When I showed him my knee (thanks for not shaving today,Megan) and told him my hand was broke, he looked at me with a weird look and said 'and you ran another mile after that?'. Ummm, yeah...but it didn't hurt that bad immediately! and you could hardly notice the blood since I was wearing black pants! He looked at me like I had just told him I arrived yesterday from the moon. Humph.

Well, on the upside, since 2 aleave didn't work wonders for my knee of death tonight, I'm going to attempt to take a vicodin before bed...I've only ever taken one before and I just remember feeling very fuzzy, so I figured I'd write this post first so I wouldn't start writing all tripped out and end up spilling all my deep dark secrets in a vicodin high. I suggest if you want to know the truth about something, call me in 30 minutes. I'll either snore in your ear or tell you that yes, I think your boyfriend is a douche and that pair of pants you wore today was doing you no favors.

Oh, on one other note. If you buy the Johnson and Johnson antiseptic wash and it say something to the effect of 'hurt free' on it, don't believe the hype. That shit is going to burn like you've just poured crazy acid onto your delicate skin (you know, crazy acid, like really strong acid, duh). And when the Neosporin tube says 'with pain reliever'? Take that to mean "we know this already hurts, but would you like it to hurt even more? Great. Put this on it." Is today opposite day or what??Ouch...no more caps...the shift pain is back. and yes, i can only hit 'shift' with my right hand. Let's see what color the knee of death is tomorrow!

Till then...watch out for possessed treadmills...

What do you get...

....when you combine Me + treadmill + gym at work + lunchtime?

yeah, so it was painful....and maybe even more so mentally than physically. Wanna hear the story? Of course you do! And I'm here to bring it to you even though half of my right hand is rendered useless. I've got about 2 hours to spare until my doctor appointment. One of those doc-in-a-box places. I somehow wanted to brave it through the day, but my knee and mostly my hand are starting to really hurt so I'm going to go get a diagnosis. My prediction? A broken hand...but maybe because I'm a wuss and it hurts and I assume hurt + swollen + kinda crunchy = broken....but we'll see.

So, embarrassment 101...listen up, if you want to make an ass of yourself in front of co-workers while wearing a too-tight sports top for the first time, this is how to do it. So I was on the treadmill and had hit about a mile. I was sweaty as usual. I wanted to take like a 30 second break to go to the water fountain and get a towel. seriously 30 seconds. so I hit pause on the machine. the belt stops. i get off the machine (btw, no caps...my pinkie can't handle it). i get water and a towel. i bound back over to the machine. i do a little 'hop skip' onto the treadmill. oh, btw, note to self...the treadmill is possessed and will TURN BACK ON while you least expect it. oh yeah. and both feet are on the treadmill at this point. and then both promptly go backwards, defecting from my torso...one foot hits the floor, the other hits the belt. next, my hand slams somewhere on the treadmill. then strange things start to happen. my one foot is stationary, but the rest of my body is being shoved back by the belt so i'm kinda totally wonky. it seriously felt like it took 30 seconds to get off the belt sander of death, all the while my one knee is being sanded just about to the bone (alright, not quite, but it hurt!). then it was over...and i almost started to cry....almost. i kept my shit together, dusted myself off. answered that i was fine. felt my pinky throb, saw that the inside of my pants have about two layers of skin on the knee, pull myself together and run another mile. and then say wtf am I doing and stop, shower and go back to work.

at first i thought i jammed my finger...then my hand started to swell, then i had a hard time typing. oh lordy.

andrea was running right next to me at the time and didn't even notice i hit the deck. she said she heard a really loud noise...my heft hitting the belt...and then looked to her left and saw nothing. then she looked to the right and saw nothing...mostly because i was on the floor....then she saw me get up. she did a good job holding it together and not laughing. i think she even turned off the machine for me. ya know...so i didn't lose ALL the skin on my knee.

sigh...want to know the crazy part? the lady who runs the gym told me that she's seen other people have this problem. excuse me? a note on the machine about that MAY be nice. ya think?

anyway, we all got a big kick out of my retelling the story 5000 times at work and everyone laughing that my dumb ass got up and ran another mile (ya know, to show with a quivering lip that i'm okay..sniff sniff) and laughing at how andrea never even noticed i fell like a sack of potatoes. i did get a few e-mails later in the day asking if i was okay...ug...you mean you SAW that atrocity?? so much for being the cool girl at work...

i'll let you know how the doctor goes. i'm kinda assuming that since i'm going to the quack shack they'll tell me i'm pregnant with twins or something. we'll see!

update: well, no pregnancy diagnosis tonight. i called to get an update of when they could see me and it was bordering on 10pm so i cancelled and will call in the morning. i'm kinda exhausted and sore so i think i'm going to take 12 aleave and go to bed. hopefully the swollen hand of death doesn't go crazy while i sleep and quadruple in size. will someone come bring me ice cream? i think that would help. thnxs.

Hai, I'm not drunk...

Well, unfortunately I'm NOT drunk anymore, so I don't get to bestow on you a rambling post with no real direction. Wait, I'm thinking that was not a by-product of the drinking.....

I have a plethora of hilarious stories to tell you guys. Seriously, I had the most bizarre experiences at Macy's, got hit on at a pool by a very creepy Navy guy who seemed obsessed with my 'very white and very straight teeth' and who owned a bunny rabbit, hung out with gay guys (fun!), went to the beach, ate great food, drank questionable wine, got to spoon, lay my head on a chest, and make dinner for someone. It was all very delightful and I have to say I had the requisite 'vacation blues' when I got back. Nothing like going back to work to ruin a perfectly good vacation.

But today I just feel kinda yucky. Tired. Can't get enough sleep. A terrible pain in my shoulder. Grumpy. And in general, I just feel blah and I'm not quite sure why. For the love of God I cried at a scene in Tori and Dean Home Sweet Hollywood today. Seriously. Mi mi La Rue's memorial service. Lots of tears. Then I sniffled at some commercial, now, at the movie Hope Floats. OMG, what is my issue? I am nothing if not happy go lucky (um, hello, URL) but I guess everyone has their funks. Maybe I need to go to the gym and sweat it out. It's been probably two-weeks since I've gotten my sweat on, and that may help. ...of course I maybe have to amputate my shoulder in order to do it, but I'm willing to take one for the team.

So that's it for now. I promise next time you visit I will be back to normal and writing about my California shenanigans. For now, I go slap on a spandex unitard and work out with the suburbanites. (kidding about the unitard, but how fun would *that* be??)

Hai Im drunkedy drunnk

hello...I'm here in California, blogging to my 5 readers....maybe it's 4 now that I haven't been blogging in a while....anywho....soooo, I'm here at my vacation destination and I've been drinking lots of rum with some gay guys....gay guys who don't like Bush...the president or otherwise. So, you could say it's a fabulous vacay....beach, sun, sand, fake tan being rubbed off by said sand (sexy to have white feet and a bronzed body) and maaaaaaybe a cute guy....maybe. But you dind't hear it frome me.

Currently I'm listening to some good music, sitting in a towel and looooking forward to a night of food, drinking and fun. What could be better? Wait, maybe dancing? Oh yes, for those of you that know me, you know that I can't resist a beat....like ever. So I must dance....music is my crack and I want to be a junkie tonight. Speaking of which, there are a lot of homeless people here...and guys that jack off in front of you in the Macy's downtown....I'm just sayin....but that's another story for when I'm sopbher..

gay guys
jack off guys
peeing in the dressing room (not ME!)
credit card meltdown
buys with bunny rabbits that don't want me to get dressed and who LOVE my white teeth. (seriously, that's the pick up liine??)
oh, and my burnt ass from tanning before I got here...red, I tell ya. But I still look hot...hell yeah.

well, I'm going to go pick up my long red wig and head out to the club. later bitches.

I am a bad blogger...

But you guys already knew that. I have gotten comments such as "Are your fingers broken?" "Are you alive?" and "I think my feed reader is broken". Yeah yeah, I got it. Problem is once I get in a writing funk it's really hard to get out. I still am writing stuff in my head and am hoping to invent a new contraption that will take what I'm thinking and make it into a blog post. Wait, not everything, that would make for some really revealing posts. Dirty posts...but that's another topic entirely.

So today I am off of work to prepare for a trip I'm taking tomorrow. To California. For vacation. Three cheers for vacation!! And obviously I'm do scatterbrained/lazy that it takes me a whole day to get ready. Obviously. Since I'm sitting here writing. I've been running errands all day, having lunch with one of my girlfriends and then dropping dear Gracie off with my mom. I called my mom to see where she wanted to do the handoff and she was out to lunch with her old work buddies from the dermatology office. She gets all kinds of goofy and silly when she's with them. In fact, they've told me that during work my mom would dance like Tina Turner in the office for them. Like I ever doubted where my affinity for dancing and making a fool of myself came from. Anyway, mom answers the phone and says in a very cheerful voice....

"I'm up at work with the girls after lunch...I have a hello kitty band-aid on my nose!"
"Um, why??"
"Well, Shannon thought the spot on my nose looked bigger and darker so the doctor took a biopsy to see if it's cancer!" "Oh wait, get away! I'm going to hide in the supply closet! ::giggling:: ::out of breath:: okay, I'm locked in the supply closet now." (I can hear her friends laughing in the background)
"What the hell is going on? Wait, did you say you might have cancer?? Why are you not freaking out??"
"I am, I'm hysterical!"
"ooookay...so call me when you're ready to get Gracie"
"Okay ::giggling:: bye!"

Ummmm, what the eff is going on here? I get my tendency to worry about brain tumors, death and destruction form my mother. It was only later that I realized that she really IS worried, and actually was hysterical. Sigh...the doctor doesn't think it's anything to worry about, but here's hoping. Because shit, I found this out about 30 minutes after I went tanning. WHAT? I went for like a month just so I wouldn't be the color AND texture of the jet-puff marshmallow man. AND I thought I had excellent genes when it came to tanning. My mom grew up in Arizona and was outside all the time and my grandpa was a rancher and literally looked black at some points in his life. And no cancer to speak of. Now this. I'm going to take the attitude of not worrying until I have to. And dammit, I wish I didn't like the way I look tan. Yeah yeah, white and glowing is beautiful, ethereal. Whatever. That works if you're Nicole Kidman and weigh 115 and are 6 feet tall. The rest of us poor saps just look like albinos with a cellulite problem. For reals.

So to add to my maladies, my stomach has been straight up hurting for like three weeks. Mostly after I eat. This happens from time to time, but I usually just use it as an opportunity to not stuff my face since it hurts afterwards. This time, I was sure it was something more sinister.

I decided I was pregnant.

Even though the baby would probably be able to walk at this point. And maybe even signing up for college.

But still, a possibility. A model marvel of science, but a possibility nonetheless.

On to other news, I'm obsessed with the Olympics just like everyone else. I've been going to bed super late to watch everything. I of course love swimming, but I'm not swooning over Phelps. He's like a little puppy to me. Don't get me wrong, great body...but he's a little goofy looking. but totally adorable like a puppy. Nope, my eyes belong to the tennis guys.

sigh...Federer..my favorite...Nadal...my close second favorite.

Although now that I think about it, I shouldn't be going for Federer. He's got a very strong jawline like me. Our children would look like...well...big jawed people....anywho.

Oh!! I got my haircut finally! A long time ago I pondered going short. Lots of people said don't' do it. But I couldn't stop thinking about it...so I did it. I cut like 10 inches off. It;s shorter than it's ever been before...like ever. And ya know what? I love it. Really love it. It's sassy and I've gotten lots of compliments. The two things people say most? "Have you lost weight" and "you look younger". Holy hell, if I knew that was all it took I would have done it years ago. Even my dad, a dyed in the wool long hair guy, said I shouldn't' ever let it grow out again. shocking. I will put a picture up as soon as I get one!

Well, that was a craptastic post, but my mind is already in Cali, soaking up the sun (but at a much better temperature than the current 550 degree Dallas heat). Talk to y'all when I get back!