The Square Peg

If you're one of those people who doesn't like talking (or reading) about *ahem* 'body parts', it's probably a good idea for you to skip this post and stop by some other day.

You may have heard about the NFL players who have been wearing pink shoes and gloves during the games in support of October being breast cancer awareness month. Well, I couldn't help but wonder why there isn't a 'check-your-nuts' awareness month. I did some research and it turns out there is. Sort of.

The Get A Grip! campaign is one week long in April. I'm not sure what's up with testicles getting a week of awareness while breasts get a whole month (unless it has to do with their general size differences), but I digress. Did you know that testicular cancer is the most common cancer among men ages 12-50 and it out paces breast cancer deaths by women in the same 13-34 age group? Neither did I. This is important information that needs to be passed on!

Since a time of awareness has been instituted though, why don't women wear some type of blue item(s) to show our support? Cuz, you know, tit for tat and all that. Oh! That wasn't intentional but since I stumbled upon it, it's staying in this post! *This is part of the 'twisted sense of humor' I've told you I have.

Now, back to wearing blue for that week...there should be a blue dye exclusively created for the items. And I've narrowed my ideas down to three items that are key to a woman's life. In no particular order:

1. a single strand of pearls--earrings coming soon (because you know how we love jewelry and accessorizing)
   
2. temporary spray to paint a streak in our hair (this would, of course, provide excellent coverage for color-resistant gray--cuz I need that) and finally,
3. a purse (supportive and practical since some women carry their husband's...never mind).

The Get A Grip! marketing department totally needs to hire me as a consultant, don't you think?

Peace out, people. And whether you're a guy or gal, don't forget to check your stuff. Your life could depend on it.

For health reasons, I am striving to have a gluten-free diet. I spent 1/5 of my two-week grocery budget on specialty GF items at Kroger earlier this week, pulled out my Gluten-free for Dummies book, and have been shopping online for recipes and grocery items that are GF.
I was just browsing the Gluten-Free Mall's website and 1-2-3 Gluten-free brownie mix is NINE DOLLARS--and that's the "sale" price; the regular price is $11.25. And the 1-2-3 GF corn bread mix (southern style)? $7.34...down from $9.18.
I'm fixing to yell; cover your eyes real quick.

ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME? WHY ARE GF ITEMS SO EXPENSIVE?!?!

I had to let that out.

Can somebody just explain that to me? I have a real problem with price gouging (to be fair, I guess everybody does...except the gougers). At that rate, the brownie mix should feed a swarm of hungry teenage boys. But it doesn't. I thought one of the brands of GF brownie mix at Kroger was unreasonable at the $6 price, so I didn't buy it (I have a real problem with unreasonable-ness, too). I understand it's a specialty item but come on.

The bottom line?

Dear 1-2-3- Gluten-free prices: Customer service FAIL. Despite the fact that you're gluten-free.

It seems I may have a bacteria in my stomach, and today I had to have a biopsy done to check for it. The following is an account of my day.

I was worried about having the scope put in because I have a very strong gag reflex. Turns out I was worried for no reason. The nurse sprayed the back of my throat with the most vile thing that's ever been put in my mouth (and I'm including the time I accidentally drank out of the Coke can my dad had been flicking his cigarette ashes in, and the time I ate oysters on the halfshell). The word "putrid" fits very well here. Within minutes my tongue and throat were numb and soon after they put the anesthesia in my IV. About 8 seconds later, I asked the nurses if it was just me, or if the room was blurry. They replied in unison (with sly smiles on their faces, I might add) that it was definitely me.

Fast forward about an hour or so...

I wake up sitting in a chair to see Moose and several nurses standing and laughing all around me. I could feel myself shaking and at first I thought I was crying. I was, but it was because I was laughing so hard. Moose told me the following; some of it I remember, most of it I don't.
Apparently I was dreaming (or maybe I was hallucinating) that we were dancing at a football game, where all attendees were given a bag that contained magic blue shoes. It seems I wanted to make sure Moose took his home with us when we left.

Also, I was at a carnival type place, because I was riding a ride. All the cars were pretty, and seated one person to each one for the ride. The cars were purple, blue, green, red, orange, yellow and teal. It was my job to tell everybody where to sit and I assigned them all to sit in the car that matched the color shirt they were wearing. Except Tashy. For some reason, I was feeling mischievous and said she had to ride in the orange car, knowing that she doesn't care for the color. But then I said she might be able to ride in the red car.

At one point, I told Moose I was hungry and wanted noodles. Later on, I said I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich with aforementioned noodles, but the noodles had to match the dress I was wearing, which was black with purple swirlys and circles. And then when Brian told me I needed to get dressed so we could go home, I asked for one more ride and started crying when he said I couldn't have one. In the middle of all this, it seems I kept asking Moose if he was videoing or taking pictures of the ride and telling him to take out my cell phone to do that.
Yeah...and while I was on this trip, I could hear someone say over and over, "I want what she's having". Apparently that was the guy in one of the beds near me. And the nurses thought I was talking about a football game because Moose had on his Peyton Manning jersey. And when we got in the car to go home, I told Moose he had to drive because I was too drunk to do so.

I bet those nurses are at home right now, sitting around their dinner tables with their families, and telling them about the crazy patient they had come through the surgical center today.

This is why I don't do drugs; I couldn't handle trips like the one I took today very often.
After a couple of violent puke fests and a nap, I'm mostly back to normal now.

No, that's not the size of the coffee I ordered from Starbucks this morning. I wish.

It's the Spanish word for 'large', which describes the size of the mistake it was to make my jello legs get out my wonderful, amazing bed this morning.

In fact, that's all I can hear right now; the screeching of my thighs and calves...I think they're saying "we'll get you, my pretty", or something like that.

Well, now I understand why lawyers make you sign a statement saying you’re of sound mind when you make up your will. It’s so they can’t be sued for the stupid, hair-brained ideas you come up with. Take tonight for instance…

Moose and I were at Wal-Mart shopping for the food we’re taking to tomorrow night’s small group dinner. We decided to browse around and see what was new in Wally World. I stumbled out of the housewares section, and there they were.

The exercise videos, sitting non-chalantly on the shelves. Yep, juuuust sitting there. You know, looking all innocent and harmless like they do. Sitting on the shelf, quietly using their brain altering powers to convince you that you can be as happy and look as good as the guy or gal on the front cover if you own that particular video.

And they had them all in stock, too; the pilates with what’s-her-name, the kick boxing with the bald guy, the yoga, the walking…

And then I saw it. It was called “Dance Off the Inches…Sizzling Salsa”.

I picked it up and showed it to Moose. I said, “hey, this could be fun”. I promise I hadn’t been drinking. But I don’t know WHAT possessed me to think exercise and fun could go together. I know better than that; shame on me.

Yeah, we bought it. Yeah, we used it. Yeah, we totally suck at it. And “fun” is the LAST word I’d use to describe that dvd. Fun? PSH.

What can I say? I just wasn’t of ’sound mind’ tonight. And I’m pretty sure I won’t be of sound body tomorrow. At least, not until the motrin kicks in.