A little cheese with that whine.

I am having such an emotional day that I feel like eating my feelings, but nothing even sounds good. That's messed up.

Oh, right.

Ever wish you had someone you could talk to about anything, who would just listen to your problems, not pass judgment, give advice when needed, and be trusted not to tell all your friends what you talked about?

Oh, wait — that's called a psychiatrist, isn't it?

4 years

Sad tonight.

Word to the wise

Maybe you're one of those people who think of themselves as helpful. Or maybe you just like to prove you know things. Or maybe you just straight up like to make yourself feel good.

But know this: If you are in the gym, and you see someone with less-than-perfect form on the treadmill or weights or heavy bag or whatever, unless they ask you for advice, don't try to help them.

They are in the gym, aren't they? They're doing better than most of America. They're probably feeling pretty good about themselves.

So when you approach this stranger (without taking off your earbuds so you can't hear how loudly you are actually speaking) and offer unsolicited advice on what they're doing wrong, there's a very good chance they will react poorly.

Maybe at first they'll see that you are correct and acknowledge it with something along the lines of, "Yes, I know. I'm working on it." Maybe they'll even smile.

But when you keep talking, in your earbud voice, about what they're doing wrong and the effect it could have, things change. You are no longer being helpful. You are just being a dbag.

That person will likely leave the gym having lost all that good-feeling mojo they had. And while you probably didn't ruin their whole day, you did ruin that gym experience for them. The kicker: A lot (most?) people have to fight the urge to stay on the couch or in bed in order to make themselves even get to the gym in the first place. You've probably tempted them to skip the next workout. And we all know what a slippery slope that can be, especially to a person who doesn't really like being there in the first place. Hopefully, for their sake, your smug attitude will be a distant memory for them when it comes time to crawl out of bed and go to the gym again.

Don't worry. When your alleged expertise is actually required, I'm sure you will be the first to know.

"Exam" Room 9

Fun fact: I'm sitting in a room at the ER waiting on Trace to have a test run. I'm quite familiar with this room. It's the same one I was in for several hours a few years ago.

I lay in this room without being seen for, oh, three to four hours, between roughly 2:30 and 7 a.m., coincidentally also on a Monday morning, while I suffered pretty much the worst pain of my life. I at one point got up, walked -- hunched over -- across the hall to the restroom, and vomited because the pain was so great. I eventually passed out from the pain and exhaustion.

When I woke up when the doctor finally came to see me, the pain had subsided (because in passing out I was able to relax my muscles). The doc the prescribed me Darvocet, which has roughly the same pain-killing properties as toast, and sent me on my way, assuming that my own personal diagnosis of kidney stones was correct. No tests, no x-rays, no pain killers. Nothing.

Well, let me tell you. I still have pain in that spot on occasion. Doesn't sound like kidney stones to you, either, huh? Right. Well, according to the second (first?) opinion I got when I was still in pain a week later, that's because it was ACTUALLY an injury known as costochondritis. My rib bone had separated from the cartilage.

Needless to say, I hate this ER, but we came here today because it's closer to our house.

I'm very worried, though I know it's not good to worry. It's so hard to see someone you love so much be in so much pain. And after the events of the weekend, this was definitely not welcome.

For the Class of 1999

This song popped up on my 1990s Pandora station today.

Which led me to remember this song.

It's hokey as hell (and freaking BAZ LUHRMANN??? Who knew?) But it's got a couple of great lines:

"The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind. The kind that blind-sides you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday."

"Don't be reckless with people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours."

"Some kind of screaming..."

Several months ago we lost a piece of fascia from the side of our house, near the corner where our bedroom window is. Then another. Then another started to bend.

Then the soffit started sagging. A bird built a nest in the gap. It laid eggs. The eggs hatched. The baby birds cheeeeeeped incessantly.

I called a roofer, who came and looked at the roof and told me I just needed a gutter repairman.

So I called a gutter repairman. He came out, gave an estimate, and actually did the repair the next day. I didn't ask what he planned to do about the birds. They're annoying, but I didn't want them to die. I was worried that if the dude messed with the nest, the momma bird wouldn't come back to it and the birdies would starve.

Trace told me to assume they were fine, which I did. I relaxed knowing our roofing wasn't going to blow away.

Until this morning.

I woke up to a familiar scratching sound. Then cheeping. Like the screaming of the freaking lambs, Clarice.

What's going on? Are they trapped in the roof?? I hope to God they just have other access somehow (not that I'm crazy about birds living in the roof) because if they were imprisoned alive in there, I don't know how well I'd handle that. I have this thing about things being buried alive. Poor birdies.

My brain is broken. Pretty sure.

Ever since Mom passed away, I've had an exceptionally hard time holding my shit together keeping my emotions in check around this time of year.

At first I thought it was just one of the cyclical "troughs" people in the grief counseling business talk about.

Then I thought maybe I was just losing my mind.

Then I thought maybe it was Easter. I have good memories of Easter as a kid, but nothing Mom-specific to make me almost have run sobbing out of a yoga class. Yeah, that happened.

Then, last year, someone made a connection for me: the ND musical. It's always around this time of year. Mom and I both were always a part of it, so of course I'd associate it with her.

This seemed plausible, even though I hadn't really been aware in the front of my mind, at least, that the show was coming up.

Well, this year, the instability waited until after Easter to show its ugly face. It's here, and the musical starts tomorrow.

So, that's where we're at today.

Out of it

I'm almost — almost — over being sick.

About three-ish weeks ago (maybe longer, not sure) I had a slightly sore throat and a touch of laryngitis.

Then I got a bit of a cough. Trace had recently been sick and recommended I start with the Mucinex right away, before it got worse. So I did that, and drank several gallons of orange juice, and thought I was on the mend.

The next Monday, I felt BAD. Went to practice but couldn't do much. Friends said I even looked bad.

By the end of that week, I was feeling a bit better, though I was blowing my nose constantly and still on the Mucinex and Sudafed no thanks to city laws. Bouted that Saturday, did OK. Better than I expected.

By Monday, I was feeling even worse than I had the week before. I wasn't sleeping well or much, and the cough had gotten much, much worse. I was literally in tears because I had felt so bad for so long. Trace suggested I go to the doctor, but I was skeptical they'd be able to do anything for what I thought was a cold.

By Wednesday, I'd had enough. I didn't go to work. First time in almost seven years that I can remember calling in to this job because of actual illness. As it turns out, it's a good thing I went: I apparently had bronchitis, pharyngitis, and sinusitis. All the itises.

They put me on a 5-day Z-pack (thought they only came in 10 days, but whatever), and after about three days of that, I FINALLY felt like the end was in sight.

I'm still taking NyQuil, but that's just to help me sleep and not wake up coughing so much. At least it's a dry cough now.

In other news, Trace is in Minneapolis this week. Last night was his first night gone, and as usual I couldn't sleep. I was up till 5 watching Jenna Marbles videos on YouTube and after watching her makeup tutorial have become convinced it's a good idea to get some false eyelashes. I can't decide if this is the product of little sleep or a product of the fact that when Trace is gone, I shop.

Also, NyQuil at 4 a.m. when you are alone for the night may be a bad plan. I woke up around 10:40 and thought I could sleep a bit longer, then woke up again just before 1:30 p.m. The reason there might have been a problem is that I had actually just rolled over to go BACK to sleep when the little voice told me to check the clock. Had I not listened, I definitely would have been late for work.

When he's right he's right

I had derby practice last night. It was the first time in probably a few months that we've been put in somewhat of a scrimmage situation. We've gotten a little bit sloppy thanks to sock derby but it was fun to be at it again.

That said...


I have some wicked bruises on my shin. I took a couple of really awesome falls and have a nice bruise/raspberry on my shoulder where I slid across the floor. I have a cut on my thumb and have no idea how it got there. I think it might have been from someone's pads. I got my own elbow shoved into my stomach. Not pleasant. I got punched in the mouth by a teammate. No bruising there, thank goodness. But I'm sore all over today. And I broke a toe. At least, it's got the look and feel of a broken toe.

I discovered the issue when putting on my skates following sock derby. Don't know if I got stepped on or what. But I figured the show must go on, so I taped it to the piggy next to it and kept skating. There was an hour of practice left and I didn't really want to sit out. We've got a full scrimmage practice next week.

When I got home I called Trace and was telling him about my injuries. He said, "You know, two years ago, if someone would tell you that you would go through all that pain and love it, you would have laughed in their face. I told you derby would make you tougher."

I guess he was right. I pretty much consider myself a wimp, but that's starting to fade. Thank goodness. Because wimps get their asses kicked in derby and don't last long. :-)

Never say never

I guess I can no longer say I never win anything.

This is my first-ever medal. In anything. No, really.

I placed third in my age division at the Mardi Gras 5K this year. I'm pretty stoked. I know Mom would be proud, even if she would think we all make too big a fuss over her.

This year, it was sooooo much nicer to participate. The last two years have been sort of miserable. In 2010 it was freezing. In 2011 it was freezing AND rainy. Today it was about 50 and dry. The rain picked up as we were leaving after the awards.

The photo above is me all sweaty in the ladies' room of the gym of my old old high school right after finishing the race. They've redecorated it somewhat with MARBLE (or faux marble, anyway). I wish 51 was a number on the roulette wheel. I'd start playing it.

And speaking of my old old high school (I call it that because we moved to a new building when I was a senior)....

This is where we all gathered after the race. Wow, this gym brings back bad memories. But some of the best memories I have from high school are from that stage at the end, where we put on the musical ever year. Good times.

Play on, playa.

I'm not even sure this is worth a blog, but I couldn't quite wrap my brain around this.

I went home on my break to eat and feed the dogs. I turned on the TV, and Jersey Shore was on, so I left it, because I'm not home long enough on breaks to actually get into watching anything.

Two of them were having birthdays. One of them (Pauly D) mentioned that it was his 31st. I actually had to stop and rewind Tivo to make sure I had heard him right. 31? SRSLY? THAT'S MY AGE. I looked the guy up on the Google, and sure enough, he's 31. In fact, he's a few months OLDER than me.

Now, to be clear, I don't really approve of any of these people, but FWIW, it's awesome that he's able to hang with all these early-to-mid-20s guidos/guidettes. It also makes me feel somewhat justified in my opinion that we (my friends and I) are at prime partying age.

A couple of years ago a friend commented that she wanted to go out and party (while we were in St. Louis) but didn't want to go to the Landing with all the "barely legals." Um...my 20-year-old self could only dream of some of the partying I've done in my late 20s/early 30s (thanks, derby). We're finally old enough to have a little bit of self control and to have learned where that perfect drunk stage is so we're not sloppy and stupid (unless we choose to be). Dance clubs should love us, and we shouldn't be afraid to love them.

I might also add he's one of the younger-looking ones in the house. Guess all that hard living really gets to some people. So play on, playa.

TCB

Usually while Trace is out of town I get bored. I also am not used to sleeping by myself and therefore don't sleep as well.

But this time, since I knew he was going to be gone for so long, I decided to make it a point to keep myself entertained, or at least busy.

Hence, the Great Clean of 2012. I figured if I am going to be up late anyway, I might as well be putting the time to good use. I started with the upstairs hall closet since it was in need of the least amount of effort. I have since completed the bedroom, kitchen, two bathrooms, and TV room. I still have four rooms to go. In one of those I just have to remove wallpaper border remnants, so that won't be too terrible. He's only been gone since Friday, but I feel like I've gotten a lot accomplished.

Things the Great Clean has taught me:
1. Underneath the crisper drawers in the fridge is NOT where the cool kids hang out.
2. Those steamer mops work pretty well.
3. I have more shoes than I thought I did.
4. Part of the effort of the Great Clean was to be able to allow our dogs to sleep with us. Yeah, they don't get it. They only sleep for like 20 minutes at a time.
5. I really, really like having a clean house. I guess for most people this would go without saying. I have always been sort of a messy person (except at work). But after a while the clutter really gets to me and I HAVE to take action. So I've been very careful to not set anything down where it doesn't belong, to put things away as soon as I'm done with them, etc. I'm trying to train myself to avoid recluttering. Hopefully my Virgo-ness will take over soon.
6. Cleaning until 4 a.m. has the added benefit of making me super tired, so I fall asleep faster when I finally do go to bed.


Since he's been gone, I've had the exterminator come for the quarterly spray, watched two movies I've been wanting to see, started a new TV series, taken the dogs to the vet, had a derby meeting...in the next day or two I'm going around and paying off some bills.  I also have been skating and working on a winning chili recipe.

So generally getting lots done. That makes me feel good.

Also.... I'm not sure if this is related, but it might be.... There are three loose pens on the copy desk. They've been there for weeks and it's really starting to bug me. Because I know they're not mine, but the guy who sits next to me never uses them, either. But I don't just want to move them, in case they ARE his. So WTH?

FedEx. Like a boss.

After trying to buy an iPhone 4S at six stores Tuesday morning, I finally gave up and ordered one from Apple that afternoon. And ever since, I've been obsessively tracking the order's progress.

The phone spent an excruciating four days stuck in "Processing Items." It finally shipped Friday night and has made steady progress toward home since then. It hopped around a bit in southeast China, then landed in Anchorage this afternoon.

In all my guesswork about when it was going to end up where and how long each step in the process would take, I visited the Apple customer forums quite a bit. I used to think I was the only one who obsessed this way about packages in transit, thanks to some minor childhood trauma that has made me an incredibly impatient adult, but as it turns out, these guys had me beat. And I tip my hat to them.

My visits to the forum introduced me to a site called FlightAware. It allows you to track domestic flights. Using this site in addition to the FedEx tracking page —

Let me take this moment to say how thankful I am this particular package is shipping FedEx and not UPS. UPS can go piss up a flagpole.

— I was able to narrow down which flight I believe my phone will be on as it leaves Anchorage. This assumes it will be on a flight that leaves tonight. It SHOULD be destined for Memphis, then hopefully my hometown! It's scheduled for delivery on Thursday, but with the type of progress it's making, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it may show up sooner.

And while we're here, why doesn't Apple EVER make enough of its products to stock its retailers? I mean really. SIX STORES.