Wa-Bam!

As you might have noticed (I hope)--I haven't posted in, uh...well....it's been a bit. I recently had a ton of shit go down, but I'm happy to report that I'm still alive--quite obviously.

Let's choose to look at is as a "blogger" vacation--though it definitely wasn't the type spent on warm beaches making fun of strange-looking people in speedos.

yummy.

So why has it been so long? I recently had an accident that involved me injuring my shoulder. Well, by "accident" what I mean is--well, fuck it, I'll just tell you the story...

I was sitting on my ass on my chaise lounge while my toddler was eating his oatmeal next to me, and for some reason he suddenly had the urge to throw said oatmeal across the room, so I,--in my super-powered-lightning-fast speed--got up from my "lounging" position, and in bolting up I promptly heard a sharp "snap" in my right shoulder.

Yeah....

My first internal thought: "shitmotherwhorefuckergodhelldamnfuckingfuck!!"

What I loudly exclaimed (no joke): "Ouuuch! GOSH that hurt!!!!"

The dance move I pulled after that was actually quite impressive as I look back on it.

But, the entire event was not worth a little oatmeal getting on the floor--trust me.

"she missed it by that much"

So, with that happening, it was quite hard for me to use my entire right arm more than I absolutely needed to. As some of you know (and if you didn't before, now you do) my job consists of using a computer all freaking day long. That being said, there wasn't a way that I could continue my job and use my arm any extra period of time doing things that I actually like to do. So....I had to choose my lame-o job instead.

Too bad I'm not cool enough to be a Blogger for a living and have enough followers to get noticed by someone important and become famous and get sponsored and not have to work a normal job like everyone else and only have to worry about tickling everyone's brain cells for a living with my obvious enormous sense of humor that eventually everyone in the entire planet would fall in love with. Too, too bad.

(I've always wanted to say that.)

So anyway--I'm back. Have no fear, I won't leave you again--unless anything tries to literally/physically keeps me from you. And it'll take a lot for that to happen

I'm glad to be back, too. You all are a safe place for me to barf all my internal "Jillianisms"...and it's a heck of a lot easier to barf them here than to barf them face to face sometimes. Trust me, barfing at someone face to face doesn't work well. It can get messy.

You know, I once made a list with an old friend of all the different words for "barf."

I'm out!

(geez, guys, it's only for now....don't be clingy--it's not attractive)



The Hairy Result...

Okay, everyone...

You asked for it.

Actually, I told you I'd show you..

So, I'm going to share the results of my perm I got last Sunday.

Sorry I'm late--last night I came home, promptly sat my fat ass on the couch and fell asleep.

 Rough day. My bad.

Anyway, without further delay...

The Glamour Shot

The Cheesy Shot

The "Poser" Shot

So, there you go, friends.

And, after much thought and pondering, much like the picture above, I decided to share one last picture, but only because I trust you all to not judge me.

Right?

The "2 Day Grease-Fest" Shot

I'm smiling--or trying-- even though my hair feels like it weighs about 10 pounds.

But anyway, that's that.

The perm is done.

There's no going back now.

And, ABFTShower, no Carrot Top-type results, so no tragedies to report.

And I have no complaints.

Yet.

A super proud wuss

Okay, so.....

*sigh*

Today, at work, I called the dentist.

This describes perfectly how I feel about this.

I made myself call them, because I've had a toothache that's been coming and going for a while now. I don't know if it's my wisdom teeth or not, because it's been hurting into my upper jaw, but damn, it hurts like a mother fucker. And nothing really helps it, either. Trust me....nothing.

So I call them, and they are so super cheerful on the phone. Like yanking people's teeth and scraping people's gums is super-de-duper fun-comparable to a merry-go-round or running through a field of daises or something. I introduce myself and the receptionist/hyper-active-phone-lady says to me:

"Tell me a little about yourself!!!!"

Well, this caught me off guard. All I wanted to do was make an appointment, get off the phone, and tell everyone around me how proud of myself I was that I finally got enough balls to call the dentist--

even though I knew they'd all look at me like this:

I probably work with someone who looks like this.

Probably.

So nevertheless, I try to think back about "myself" like this girl is asking me, and then I realize, stupidly, that she's asking me about my dental history, not about my life in general. Thank God I realized it. Because boy, I would have felt seriously dumb if I had started off by saying:

"Well, basically I'm pretty much a

super happy person, like, all the time,

 and omg I soooo totally love monkeys

 and rainbows, giggle, giggle, wheee!"

( in case you're wondering, yes, I do enjoy seeing a cute monkey,

and yes, I'm a happy person,--that is accurate information. rainbows--meh.)

Anyway, I switched my thought process to a more depressing state-of-mind, and remembered the details of my dental childhood. I just basically told her that yes, I got kicked in the mouth when I was a young teen, yes, it totally sucked, yes I'm more-than-likely traumatized by it because I had removable teeth (although it was killer an Halloween). I also told her that now my basic point was to just get my tooth ache looked at, and to brighten up my teeth, so that I can take care of the thousands of dollars that I spent on my mouth. I honestly feel kind of bad that I might have a cavity or two. I should be taking better care of my teeth.

Shame on me.

But anyway...blah, blah, blah, I finished my conversation with her, after spending a grand total of 25 minutes on the phone with her. I mean, who spends 25 minutes of their lunch break talking to the receptionist at the dentist office? I was basically getting a counseling session from her. She was very nice, I can't say that she wasn't....she was just very, very, happy. Too much fluoride, maybe?

I don't know.

But when all was said and done, I made an appointment for next month, first thing in the morning, so I don't have an excuse to cancel. I can't believe I'm nervous for it already and the appointment is so far away. I feel like such a wuss! I am proud of myself for calling though. VERY proud. I feel like I deserve a pat on the back or something. I mean, I was SCARED....

But I said that already.

Anyway, you get my point.

Go me.



still recovering...

So yes, I haven't posted in a couple of days. I have good reason though.

My adorable now 2 year old son decided to actually share--for once. Only this time he decided to share generously and give me his germs.

As I told you days ago, he got sick with croup. Now typically that isn't contagious to adults, unless they have a crappy immune system, and/or damaged lungs. Well, I'm lucky enough to have both of those problems. Let's think, it's not even the end of the year and I've had pneumonia not one, not two, but THREE times.

I know right?

I hasn't been fun. I missed an ass-load of work and as a result of it, my lungs haven't been the same since. I pretty much always feel like I'm running a marathon. Even now I'm still in physical therapy once a week to help improve my breathing and the strength of my lungs. It sucks big-time. Or it doesn't, depending on how you read into that last sentence.

So, nevertheless, when my son got sick, I pretty much expected to get a little bit of it, but I didnt expect for it to hit me as hard as it did. When it first hit me it was on Friday, my son's actualy birthday. I felt terrible--we're talking like headache, the pure exhaustion was setting in, and I knew something was happening, so I started chugging water, and preparing for it. My husband and I had taken the day off from work (thank God) to spend with our son on his birthday, so we took him out that afternoon. I chugged along, mentally telling myself that I would kick this thing in the balls before I let it take me down, but I think I knew it had me already.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling like complete shit. I'm pretty sure my first thought, felt with anguish, when I woke up was something along the lines:

"Please tell me that the piles of sand I have in

my throat are from the dream I had last night about me

rough-housing on the beach with my secret celebrity crush"

 

shut up guys.

Well no, it turns out I just snore worse than a team of horny lumberjacks. Because my throat hurt so bad I couldn't even swallow at all. I also had the cough and my lungs felt like they were practically glued shut. And then by the afternoon came the chills, and the fever.

No, no, not this fever...

but THIS fever...

it was miserable.

So I slept all day long. And I mean all day. I only got up to pee, eat some soup, drink water, down some heavenly cough syrup, and blow my nose. Other than that, I was asleep. Thank GOD my husband didnt mind taking care of our son while I tried to feel better. I wouldnt have been much help even if I had tried anyway, I'm sure. I was a snotty, coughing mess. And, I needed to feel better over night, because the next day was my son's birthday party, and we paid a fortune for it and there was NO WAY I was cancelling it. I was going to that thing and hosting it whether I felt like hell or not. I was determined to be:

So when Sunday morning came, the day of the party, I woke up and unfortunately, as luck would have it, I still pretty much felt the same.

However, showering in cold water (because our upstairs neighbors used all the hot water--thanks guys.) helped to wake me up out of my daze. It only took me 1/2 hour to get put myself together, which, on average is pretty good for me.

We arrived to the location with the balloons and the cake, and still had enough time to decorate it before the 12 toddlers and their parents and the family arrived. It was a tremendous amount of fun--the inlaws were even there and everything still went down without a hitch. All the toddlers wore themselves out, and I got thankful looks from parents, as they got to visit with eachother while the kiddos played and did their thing.

Here's my son, enjoying his birthday cake :)

The party was a complete success, but I'm super glad it's over. It was exhausting. And today I'm still coughing up a lung. Thank God I had today off too.

Well, 2 down--only 16 left to go.

I think.

lord save me.....no, really, i'll take anything.

You know, when you become a mother, say hello to never being shy ever again. I never thought I would ever be the center of attention so much as when I have my child with me. Good lord, he squeals, and giggles, and he's as cute as a button. Most of the time. Actually almost all of the time. But on a rare occasion he can turn into the exact opposite and become a monster....you think I'm kidding? You should hear the sounds that come out of this little 2 year old. They're just not normal. And I got to experience them tonight--while I was shopping at JCPenny. Now this store is fairly quiet....actually its too quiet. All you mostly here is the "Squeeeeeek" of the hangers on the racks, followed by slight giggles from teenie-boppers as they look at graphic T's. And there I am in the middle of the store all the sudden, with monster child, who suddenly chose to release his wrath when he didn't want to sit in his stroller anymore. You could probably hear him at the other end of the mall. I don't know if the looks I got were of sympathy or pity or if they were fake smiles of "poor little guy but get the hell out of here". I had to think of something. I saw dinosaur slippers--cute right?? Whee! Yeah, that lasted 5 minutes....5 heavenly minutes. Until he threw them and the monster rose again. I started to sweat. And attempted to switch between soothing and stern looks, to see what worked better. Nothing worked, but I still had to check out. What do I do in front of every person in the store? I start singing the ABC's. And "twinkle twinkle".....I didn't care anymore. My hair was frizzy, my forehead sweaty, my child kicking and roaring and sweating himself while yelling "stop!!!" Making me look like a terrible mother, sooooo....I got rung up, payed for everything, got my dirty looks all the way out the store, and promptly---very promptly I might add, my child stopped wailing. And when I got home, I noticed they rung me up without the sale price, hence, charging me too much. On purpose because I had a 2 year old belzibub wiggling in my stroller and maybe I wouldn't notice? Who knows. All I know is that I have to go back. What the frick.