It’s hard for me to to ever admit feeling down, blue, upset –
but as it turns out, feeling sad isn’t just for the Betty Fords.
(Or maybe it is and I am now one of them… and by “them” I mean my mother.)

My dog died… and even though it happened 2 months ago, I am still sad.

Just like a parent thinks their kids is the smartest, cutest or brightest –
Ninja, my dog, was obviously the best.
He was my dog and had the loyalty to me that a son has to his mother. A fierce protector with the gentlest of hearts; Ninja was a lover and a watch dog all in one. He was a 90 pound lap dog that never left my side.
Having Ninja made me a little less afraid of the dark. He made me not want to be gone from home for too long. Ninja made me love snow days with him curled on my feet while reading a book. He made the alarm clock seem not so bad. He gave me companionship on sunny days outside (especially while mowing the lawn). Ninja made coming home from vacation something to look forward to. He made my bed a little more cozy. He made my house a little less quiet and my life a little more routine. Ninja made stories (and photos) for naughty kids to love. He made watering the lawn seem like less of a chore, and taking a car ride more like finding gold. He made old dogs find their youth, and young dogs find their obedience. Ninja made my husband a bit jealous at times, but never held a grudge for the accusations. He made my heart melt with his wildly beating tail. Ninja made my life a lot more comfortable and a little less sad.

I miss my dog terribly. He made getting through life’s blocks a little easier.

a couple of weeks ago i noticed that my boobs were really hurting me. (i promise this story will come back around…) now, i have a pretty good sized pair of girls, so i thought maybe my bra was just not right, or something. but when i noticed the pain a few days later i decided that maybe it was something else.
when pain, rashes, mysterious lumps, etc. appear in my life i immediately turn to the all-knowing google. i mean seriously, we all know that the matronal goddess hiding away in new york determines what information the google relays back to us, so how could asking the google about my breast pain be a bad idea?
well the mother computer relayed (through her little bitch, the google) that i had two options relating to my boobs… either i had breast cancer or i was pregnant.
hmmm…. suck and suck.
the next morning i woke up panicked because i had a dream that i was pregnant.
okay. first the mother computer, then the google and now god. i was out of my mind to think that i wasn’t pregnant, who else is there to consult??
i did something that i have never done before. i went to the store to look for a pregnancy test. i have never bought a pregnancy test before… i have no idea where they are located, what the price might be or how many freaking choices one would have in the purchase! damn!
after i found them, right next to the tampons…. oh the irony, target. my heart was pounding, i was sure that everyone in the store was looking at me. i felt like a teenager trying to buy condoms or liquor. i had this overwhelming urge to shout at the people (who were obviously looking at me…) “what?! i am 26 years old! i am married, we can have sex! we could be pregnant if we wanted! that is allowed! i am married, dammit!”

on a side note: i have never felt the need to justify my marital status. shit, sometimes i can’t even call derek my husband, cause it just feels so fun to call him my boyfriend.

after what seemed like an eternity of scanning the front of the boxes (i clearly could not pick each one up and read the details on the back…) i decided on the most expensive. when in doubt, pay the most money, right?! that means it has to be the best and will no doubt, give me the answer that i am looking for…
well, then came the problem of the checkout line. even though i was quietly mumbling my age throughout the entire store and carrying the damn thing with my left hand (to naturally show my wedding ring) i felt the need to pick up a few other things so i would not have to pay for just ONE PREGNANCY TEST.
naturally i got a soda, PEOPLE magazine, and some carmex.
i suck at being nonchalant.

as i am standing in line, i go back to thinking about when i am walking to my car at drake. “it is okay if you get your achille’s tendon cut, it is okay if you get kidnapped, it is okay if you are pregnant.” wait a minute….

it is NOT okay that you are comparing being kidnapped/killed to being pregnant! sweet jesus, you are not ready for motherhood!
why does anyone put themselves through this agony on purpose?
i get home, take the test and wait the horrid three fucking minutes!!! are you kidding me? three minutes? for 13 dollars your little paper strip mind has to work faster than that. come on now!
no whammies, no whammies.

and then there was relief…. negative.

i promptly poured myself a glass of wine and began with the reassurance mode… “it’s okay that mother computer and her little sidekick, the google played this terrible trick on you. it’s okay…”

and as for the “habit of itching”… larry mysteriously took that along with him.
weird.

on a more serious note.. thanks to all for the concern. although i made jokes of the issue, it was apparently a little serious and i do appreciate you thinking about me.

name that moral:
so, as some may know.. i have been working on the weight loss issue.. and am pretty proud of the success. so proud in fact, that i went shopping.. (not that shopping is something too new, but at this stage of newfound poverty i am in.. it was a pretty exciting afternoon at target!) anyway, i was super excited because i found some very cute new attire, that was in my favorite new size (6!!) and bought up all that a poor teacher could afford. when i got home i left the target bag on the counter.
(in the mean time, the garbage can for the kitchen had been moved and there also was a target bag of trash on the counter..)
a couple of days later, as the weather had warmed, and we were planning our trip to vegas.. i was looking for the bag of clothes. hmmm… derek? oh.. he accidentally threw them away. yep, picked up in friday’s trash..
so long lucky number 6 (and $75) i will see you another day…
so, i am not sure what the moral of this story is.. at first i thought maybe it was ironic because i have many clothes in my closet that still have the tags on them, that i have never even worn… and now the ones i want to wear have been thrown away. something about the irony of my debt??
but after much contemplation.. i think the moral is pretty easy.
god liked me better fat.

the crazy at curves
okay.. so i work part time at curves, thus i encounter many different people. the other morning i was working and crazy woman came in. she is a chiropractor who believes in all natural healing. (meaning, she thinks that she can cure just about anything with a good rubbing of the back..) long story short.. the woman is going on about all the good she does in the world, like curing cancer and what not with her magic hands when all of a sudden she starts talking about juvenile diabetes.
i am clearly no expert.. but my younger brother was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes about 6 years ago.. so i know some things about the disease.
in the meantime, the crazy starts telling me that she thinks her daughter has diabetes because of the “toxic odor” that she releasing. and if this is the case, the crazy needs to decide what to do to cure the disease.
wow! really you have the potential to cure diabetes? you are not crazy in fact, but a genius.. why didn’t anyone else come up with the cure so easily. (if you are not catching the sarcasm.. please leave this website and do not return.)
so, enter my comment. “with all due respect to you and your profession, crazy.. when a heart stops working we use a pacemaker, not a good back rub. such as when a pancreas stops working (as with diabetics), we need insulin, not to have our spine readjusted.”
oh man.. that set her off. sorry crazy.. just a thought.
“no religion, politics or sex” – that is the general rule of conversation we stick by at curves.. apparently we should add “no facts of the medical field” as well.
(note: this was the very condensed version of this story.. just ask nicole.. i didn’t even wait for thursday. she got it ALL on saturday morning, approximately 30 minutes after the encounter with the crazy.)

a penis inside of you.
my best friend, morgan, is pregnant. now morgan has been talking about weddings and babies since i have ever known her (starting in about 5th grade).. so this is a very exciting thing to happen to her. (and by her i mean me also.. i can’t wait to be an honorary aunt!) since the time she told me that she was pregnant i have not been able to stop picking up things here and there for her and the new baby. it’s so fun buying little clothes, accessories, and the books.. oh, the books! (refer back to “newfound poverty”..)
i also took morgan out for an early mother’s day lunch and pedicure last weekend. she looked wonderful! she is most definitely “showing”.. but she just looks great… so healthy and so happy. now, as we were sitting in the (amazing) massage chairs, probably being cured of cancer mid-back rub, morgan started talking about her belly moving and felt where the baby was kicking. hmm.. interesting.
and later, as we were waiting for our very cute, spring-time toes to dry she pulled out the 3D ultrasounds. alright… the photo was so clear you could literally see the face. hmm… YOU HAVE ANOTHER HUMAN BEING INSIDE OF YOU!!!! there are 2 other arms, 2 more legs, 10 more fingers and 10 more toes… POSSIBLY A PENIS! all growing in your belly.
the little clothes and accessories.. wonderful.
the alien inside of you.. completely out of my realm.
it is clearly apparent i am no where near parenthood.
maturity first.

in the meantime.. finishing up IEP’s, wrapping up the school year, completing final projects, getting summer schedules ready, planning summer school, etc.
it’s nothing compared to curing cancer and harvesting aliens..
but enough to keep me busy.

so a little humor to hold you over.. (all 3 people who read this)

while at the country club (see article down below) on thursday afternoon i was enjoying a little sun. the day was perfect and there were no weird family members visiting to distract my peaceful afternoon. i was laying on my stomach to tan, when i decided it was time to flip over to give the other side some time to see the sun. i flip over, grab my book and begin to get lost in the world of wicked.

a good 15 minutes went by before noticing that my nipple was getting just as much sun as the rest of me. thats right, there she was.. just as free as can be. now keep in mind, i do not have danity little nipples (obviously, my boobs are big..) so too look down and see the hockey puck staring back at me was a little surprise.

its a no wonder why the guy sitting next to me, who had been obnoxiously planning his “mickey’s irish pub birthday party” was now off his cell phone and staring in my direction.

Hmm.. wonder what they think of me..