Shoes.

So, I have made empty promises as I have not blogged more at all.  Sorry, bitches. 

My quadricep is doing much better.  Thanks for asking.  I am terrified to run on it though.  I need to get over that fear.  When my F and I walk, sometimes there are men in hoods that we pass and we very well may have to run for our vaginas.  As Michelle said, "Do us a solid and take off your hood." I really need to get that mace. 

I saw Phyllis last weekend.  She wouldn't stop smiling and kept asking me for hugs.  I think she was showing off for the bf.  It was their first meeting.  They hit it off.  At one point he asked her if we looked alike.  She said we resembled each other.  He then said, "That's why I'm attracted to her."  He's kind of fresh.  Phyllis just smiled.  We took her outside and she told me to warn her if there were any bees.  She's allergic.  I told her we were going to the Big E later that night.  "Where's the big BEE!" she asked. 

Gram told the bf that she and I had great times together.  What can I say?  I am a party girl.  Then she said she really loved when I had a car.  I do wish I had a car, but only to take Phyllis out of rehab. Side note: I have not driven in almost a year, except for a mini joyride in August, when Erin told me it was like I was driving with a learner's permit.   (I just found out that I have to drive in a few weeks.  I am so nervous.  I have to drive from Seattle to Blaine, Washington.  That is 200 miles round trip.  Watch out, west coast drivers.)  I digress.  We sat outside for a bit until Gram got chilly.  I think Gram kept her freshness in check since I brought my "friend" Jonathan.  She kept remarking about an apple tree.  If my "friend" wasn't with me she would have talked more shit.  Next time.

After the visit with Gram, it was time for the bf to meet Bill Lang.  That went over well.  I knew it would.  Dad just doesn't want me dating a Republican or someone who beats me.  One for two.  As any girl would be, I was nervous my family would tell embarrassing stories.  They only told one. And, it's not even that embarrassing.  When I was in first grade, those assholes made me go to school wearing a dress and sneakers.  Because we were doing something "special" when school was out.  I couldn't find my dress shoes and was so distraught that I was sent to school looking like such an ass.  I remember my classmate Danny Ortiz asking me why I was sitting on my feet.  When I told him it was because I didn't have my dress shoes on, he just smiled shyly and said I looked fine.  So suave for a six-year-old.  Anyway.  The school called home and advised that I was crying in the principal's office talking about shoes.  My mom called my brother and asked if he could bring me another pair.  Principal White told me Robert was on his way.  I was so pleased.  Until he came to my classroom with these:


Thanks, Robert.  I think I blocked the rest of the school day from my memory.  I swore to myself that I would never let anyone go through that hell.  I didn't really, but it would have been something if I had.  Because, today, my coworker came into work with a dress and sneakers. She forgot her dress shoes.  She told me she felt like such a "goober".  I said, "You're in luck!" and opened my dresk drawer.  I have five pairs of shoes at the office.  I had the perfect pair of fun flip flops that matched her dress.  I didn't want her sitting on her feet all day. 

To end, I am not going to tell you that I am going to try and blog more.  Things are just going to get crazier this month.  One month exactly until a certain BZ's wedding.  And some traveling coming up.  The BZ told me I should get mace for my work trip in case anyone tries to steal me.  Then she said, "I can't imagine you using it though, you would probably spray yourself in the face hahaha."  She's right.  Fingers crossed a pterodactyl doesn't hit my rental car.  I don't think I could survive that again.

In honor of all this shoe talk, here's one of my fave youtube vids. I think I posted it before.  "Let's get 'em."



Lata, bitches.

Snap to it.

Ok.  I know it's been a while.  I apologize.  After receiving a request to "Snap to it" from Angela and her mother, I am snapping.

Kath called me at work a couple of weeks back.  This is what she does when she's on vacation.  Calls my work line to chat.  I told her I made dinner for myself.  And how good it was.  I said, "Mom, I can cook like Bill Lang!"  She said, "What about cook like me?"  I said, "I can make a mean sandwich."  She was offended.  "Your father doesn't cook anymore, you know."  she told me.  "That's because he's too busy doing your ironing."  I replied.  "You're a little ass." she said.  Tell me something I don't know, Mom.

I saw Phyllis two Friday's ago.  All she asks about is my "romance".  You would think I had nothing else going on in my life.  Maybe she wants to live vicariously through me since she's been celibate for 57 years.  She asked to see a picture.  I showed her one on my phone.  I was wearing a hoodie in the picture.  Gram scrunched up her face and said, "Which one is he?"  Then she proceeded to tell me he looked like my brother. 

I was lucky enough to arrive for mealtime.  My fave biddies were all there.  Even though they don't remember me, I like to act as though we're all old friends.  During our 20 minutes together, Roberta asked me the same question four times.  She would beam at me and ask if I was a relative of Gram's.  I told her yes, I was.  "What relation?"  She asked.  "I'm her granddaughter!"  I said.  She nodded and smiled. Next time I am going to say I am Phyllis' sister.  Gram declared that her food tasted like crap and asked me to take her back to her room. I obliged.  I had to spend time with the kids, but told Gram I would try and visit again over the weekend.  I would have done this had I not broken my leg.

Well, I didn't really break my leg.  But, I almost fainted and vomited.  I was going to do some sprints on a wet soccer field. Maybe not my brightest idea.  However, I have a Bridezilla making fat faces at me when I go for dress fittings, so I have got to get my ass in check.  The first pump of the run, something happened to my thigh.  I fell to the ground and everything went black.  The pain was so severe, I almost threw up.  I didn't know what to do so I just sprawled out on the soaking wet grass close to tears.  I finally realized I couldn't lay there all day and crawled to the side of the road and called my sister.  (By the way, Meaghan, thanks for saving my life.) I couldn't even walk the 1/18th of a mile back to her house.  I immediately went to lay in my sister's bed.  Kath showed up to visit the kids and found me.  I said, "Mom.  I can't walk."  "What do you mean, you can't walk?" she yelled.  I explained the injury. The pain felt like a permanent charlie horse.  Meaghan gave me a Percocet and within 10 minutes, the pain was bearable.  However, Kath convinced me to go to the emergency room.  We were off.

It's twisted, but I like when my parents take me to the doctor's.  Kath asked if I wanted her to come in with me when they called my name.  Duh.  Maybe it has something to do with being the baby. Anyway. I limped to get myself registered and then went to Triage.  The nurse asked me if I drink alcohol.  I replied, "Today?"  That wasn't what she meant.  I told her that I drink socially.  I was called in and Kath came with me.  The doctor told me my leg was swollen and I strained my quadricep.  He gave me a prescription for some painkillers and told me to ice it.  I also went home with crutches.  I was concerned about taking the Peter Pan bus home.  Bill Lang learned of my plight and offered to drive me back to Boston.  I took him up on his offer.  I love car rides.

My F thought I was going to be out of commission for our last week of walking together.  However, I rallied and was walking that following Monday.  Things were healing quite nicely.  Until this past Friday afternoon.  I was walking across the street and saw a car coming.  I ran to avoid getting hit. The same thing happened to a lesser degree.  I ended up icing the thigh all afternoon and foam rolling it as my personal trainer advised.  Gram called me the next day.  She didn't even ask me about my leg first.  "HI HONEY BUNCH! HOW'S JONATHAN?"  This makes me laugh because he does not go by that name.  Gram does not care.  I told her he was fine.  "HOW'S YOUR LEG?"  I told her my leg was ok and that I had injured it again to avoid getting hit by a car.  "YOU GOT HIT BY A CAR!" she yelled.  I screamed five times that I did not get hit by a car.  "WHAT'S YOUR MOTHER THINK ABOUT THAT?"  I tried clarifying to no avail.  I told Kath to make sure she told Gram I was not run over.

So.  My leg is currently rehabbing. The thought of not walking with my F gave me a bit of anxiety and I have been waking up even earlier to get our walk on.   I am careful when crossing streets and hope that I don't get chased by a rapist or a cop as running is out of the question right now. 

Hopefully I will be back to normal soon.  In the meantime, I will try, try, try to post more.  I've  just been a busy bitch.  My sister teases that it's because of the bf.  Meaghan, I am a businesswoman.  Just like Phyllis.  And business is busy. Where is the last blog you posted?  Snap to it.

Until next time.