Sunday, November 18, 2007

Family, fall and other follies

*Last weekend was my grandmother's 95th birthday party. I've been wanting to write about it (and post a pic of my grandma), but my sister needs to figure out how to load the pics on her computer before I can borrow the disk from her camera in order to do the same. Alas, my sister for all her wonderful qualities, has the tendency to be a complete and utter moron when it comes to the simple things.

*Today "The Family" is having their portrait taken. This would be my sister's family, though the familial tentacles of obligation have stretched to include my mother, stepfather and me. Lucky, lucky me. I have been instructed to wear a blue sweater/blouse/top of some sort. Why? Because *everyone* is wearing blue. This, no doubt, is to show our consanguinity. Oh, and the kicker? I woke up with a HUGE zit on my left cheek. For one, I never get zits... hell, I'm 42. I never got 'em when I was a teenager, fer chrissakes. And for another, that will be the cheek that's photographed when my sister and I pose together (she does not allow herself to photographed from the left because of her crooked canine). But the really big issue here is: the 'studio' is at the mall from hell. Which means:

*I can finally take back the trousers I purchased at Eddie Bauer last month but had to order through the catalog because they refuse to stock LONGS in the store. Except that they fucked up my order and sent a completely different pair of britches than the ones I ordered. The only thing they got right was the color. I'm starting to hate on Eddie Bauer a bit. It's simply unconscionable that I have to return to the mall from hell over a pair of frikkin' britches. Ok, except that I AM already going to have my soul stolen along with my family.

*If I'm going to be at the mall from hell, how can I *NOT* stop at Target and stock up on items necessary to survive winter in Iowa... like waterproof mascara and piddy pads for das poog. There was frost on the deck this morning and he didn't want to go outside. Add a light dusting of snow to that and Gus' forays into the back yard effectively end until robins start yanking worms outta the ground. Yeah... I know. He's a princess.

*Yesterday I pulled up the garden and raked the entire back yard. This, my friends, was no small feat.














Now my back hurts. Of course, it hasn't stopped hurting since June.

*Which brings me to more fun. The last two weeks I've been poked, prodded, smashed, snipped and x-rayed. Fun shit, that. But the good news: my cervix is just fine thankyouverymuch and I have "excellent" cholesterol. In fact, my doctor said my bloodwork results are the best thing about me. She's really got a killer sense of humor, that one. Which leads to the notsogood news: my back is broken (again... and yes, it happened in June when I took the lovely header out of the hammock) and I'm still waiting on the bone density scan results. My guess? My T-score is probably in the high negatives. Can't wait to get the news on that one tomorrow. What does this mean, you ask? Why, it means that I have been strongly urged to go back on Fossilmax to strenghten my poor old bones. Which means that every Sunday I have to take a pill that makes me sick to my stomach. In fact, I kinda feel like puking right now.

*So. The summary: all this belly-aching has turned me into a bitch on wheels. I've been grumpy with damn near everyone lately. Translation: any of my friends who actually live in this same town with whom I have face-to-face contact... ignore me. I'm bitchy enough to begin with, but the chances of me snapping at you have exponentially increased. Feel free to pull my shit to the curb if it gets out of hand, but it may be wise to just leave me alone. And, of course, I should do the gracious thing and not put myself in any social situations for awhile.

*The best news of all: this, too, shall pass. And now for the obligatory pic o' das poog, the Fairy Princess himself, GUS:

Here's wishing everyone a lovely and fun-filled Thanksgiving week. Posting shall resume when I damn well feel like it.

Who dat snappin' back? |

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