Facing the Giants Needle

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I come from a family full of bad backs and had my first bulging disc at the ripe young age of 24. I was suspicious of chiropractors in general, believing them to all be quacks who hurt more than they helped. That is, until I needed one. Now I am a firm believer in chiropractic care and I consider monthly massages to be a health necessity.

Unfortunately, I've not found a chiropractor that I like here in Indy. My Knoxville chiro set the bar pretty high and despite my best efforts, I can find no one even close to his level in our no-longer-so-new hometown. And although my monthly massages have staved off the daily headaches I used to suffer, my back and shoulders are wound tighter than a Nate's hand around my credit card on Black Friday. At this point, I don't think simple massages are going to fix this.

So I'm considering this:

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Acupuncture.

I am terrified of needles. I have to be dying before I'll visit a doctor because I'm convinced all they'll want to do is suck out my blood. My phobia is so bad that I don't even like to be touched in the crooks of my arms because it gives me the needle heebie jeebies.

So considering acupuncture means I'm desperate. I lie in bed at night and rationalize to myself: It won't be so bad, it's just in my back. I won't even be able to see them. I won't look at the needles. I can take drugs before I go. Maybe they'll let me have a cocktail if I promise not to drive.

I get all brave at night, thinking I can do this and I'll make some calls in the morning - and then I look up an acupuncture website, take one look at those needles and start hyperventilating at the mere thought of someone jamming pointy-ended sticks into my delicate as a baby back.

My head knows it will help. My back is screaming for relief. But I just don't know if my nerves can take it.

Have you ever tried acupuncture?

Have you ever faced a fear head on and overcome it?

Quotables

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I was at the nail salon today getting a much needed pedicure with a girlfriend, chatting merrily away, oblivious to those on either side of us. I was telling her about how I finally wore down talked Nate into letting me hire Merry Maids to clean the house every other week. To which she naturally replied, in complete mock jealousy: Boo, you whore!

At which point we suddenly became aware of the lady to my right - who literally clucked her tongue and shook her head in dismay.

Clearly, she has never seen Mean Girls. Poor thing.

Which got me thinking about all the movie lines I quote on a daily basis, without even thinking about it.

Gopher hole! - Homeward Bound
That's gonna leave a mark. - Tommy Boy
Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth? - Rush Hour
What we've got here is a failure to communicate. - Cool Hand Luke
There's no crying in baseball. - A League of Their Own
This one time, at band camp... - American Pie
I'm gonna run a train on some chicken wings. - Role Models
Missed it by that much. - Get Smart

and of course,

Boo, you whore! - Mean Girls

I'm sure there are tons that I am forgetting because I know I do this all the time without even thinking about it. And that's not even counting all the TELEVISION show lines! That's a whole other post worth.

What movie quotes do use on a daily basis? Do tell!

This way to Crazy Town

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Nearly three months after the drama began, I finally got my permanent crown the other day. And the whole time I'm laying there, all I can think is that I am a failure. I couldn't even brush my teeth and floss correctly. They whittled my tooth down to nothing and now I have a fake one. Loser, much?

Cue the tears.

I don't know why I have had such an extreme reaction to this tooth drama. I am not normally so emotional about silly stuff.

Anyone else have this reaction to dental work? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Crazy, Party of 1.

Jigga, what?!

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Well that picture just about sums up my afternoon!

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I had a cavity filled back in mid-December. At the time, I didn't mind so much because, hey, it got me out of another afternoon of the most mind-numbingly boring job on Earth. But more than a week later, I was still having stabbing pains in my tooth every time I chewed on that side - not good. So Tuesday before our vacation, I went back to the dentist to have it checked out. There was much talk of filing it down a little more, bruising, swelling, waiting, pain tolerance....and then the dreaded words 'root' and 'canal' right next to each other in the same sentence. I went home hoping and praying that the dentist had fixed the problem and that a few more days of rest would solve the problem.

Not so much. Two weeks later, vacation is over and I still can't use that side of my mouth. On the bright side, I have some fantastic jaw muscles on the right side of my face now.

So to the endodontist I went this afternoon for a consultation. Yay! Another missed afternoon of work! I figured a thirty minute consultation at 2:00 and then I'm out and home a full two hours earlier than usual. Wahoo!

The tech girl comes in, taps around on my tooth, touches it with cold, touches it with hot, makes me bite down, takes an x-ray. Looks like I definitely need a root canal and she'll have the endodontist come in to look at it. Enter Dr. Endo, who taps around on my tooth, touches it with cold, touches it with hot, makes me bite down, looks at the x-ray. Yup, I concur, you need a root canal.

Major bummer, right? My wallet feels lighter already.

So as I'm laying there listening to exactly how a root canal works, he sticks a cotton swab in my mouth and suddenly my cheek goes all tingly. Which is when he says, 'We'll just numb you a little before we do the injections'.

Whoa, wait a minute. Jigga, what?!

WE'RE DOING THIS NOW?

I'm pretty sure my face looked exactly like that monkey up there. I was totally and completely shocked. I was expecting a consultation and a follow-up appointment, before which I would take copious amounts of relaxants and possibly mix them with alcohol (KIDDING! Sort of.) What I was not expecting was a root canal. Silly me.

Apparently it's standard operating procedure at that office to follow up a consultation with a two hour opening for an immediate procedure. Um, might be nice to tell the patient this on the phone, don't you think?

They, of course, offered to let me come back if I preferred, but that was clearly not what they wanted me to choose. And being that I was already there and all tingly anyway, I bit the bullet and forged ahead. The procedure itself was not bad at all, if you don't mind having your mouth wedged open and the smell of burning teeth in your nostrils for nearly an hour. And lucky me, I get to go back to my regular dentist for a crown in two to three weeks. Hear that sound? That's my wallet crying quietly in the background.

But when all was said and done? A surprise root canal is still better than an afternoon at work.

Just call me Grace

It's a good thing it's tights season because anyone who took a good look at my hideously pale legs lately would surely think my husband beat me on a daily basis. The current bruise tally:

2 - Left knee
1 - Left elbow
1 - Right knee
1 - Right ankle
1 - Right shin

Truth be told, I have, as of late, become one of the world's clumsiest people. Take for example Monday night: we arrive at our holiday gathering, chatting about our respective work days as we climb out of the car. Apparently exiting the passenger door safely requires total concentration because as I jabbered away, I managed to slam my right ankle with the corner of the car door. A howl of pain from me as I grabbed my ankle - and slammed my left elbow into the (closed) back passenger door. I'm pretty sure Nate was praying for a hole to open in the ground and swallow him whole. I was just praying to make it to the front door in one piece.

Yeah, just call me Grace.

Become one with the Starbucks

I've been looking forward to Halloween since the last day of September. That's the day we got invited to our first grown-up Halloween costume party. I can't even recall the last time I dressed up for Halloween, it had to be at least 15 years ago, possibly more. So when we heard about the neighbors' costume party, I was stoked. My first thought was "Ooh! Wig!" followed quickly by "Ooh! False eyelashes!" followed by....nothing. I thought about it for days and couldn't come up with a single good idea. Being that it was a family-friendly party, "Naked from the neck down" didn't seem like an option. I had to come up with something.

Then one Saturday, I'm standing in line waiting for my venti non-fat caramel macchiato when suddenly it hit me! My sister made this genius costume for herself last year and what screams 'ME' more than this?


And so, I give you my prize-winning Halloween costume. Made by my ridiculously crafty and creative sister, Katie. She didn't miss a single detail - from the 'Careful this beverage is hot' safety print to the yummy drink order down the side. She even came up with a clever The Way I See It for the back of the cup.


Is that perfect for me or what? Everyone that the costume was genius and I even won second place in the costume competition. Guess what the prize was? STARBUCKS CARD!! CHA-CHING!

Nate won third place for his costume as Master Chief from the video game Halo. Yeah! Another Starbucks gift card for me!

Hello, Old Friend

Look what I found this weekend!

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Best Sweatshirt of All Time. Or as Nate likes to call it - The Green Monster.

I've had this sweatshirt for a gazillion years. Seriously, I can't even remember how long it's been - my mom bought it for me somewhere in the high school years. All though the time frame is hazy, I remember the event distinctly because ordering from the Victoria's Secret catalog was a very big deal in our house. Back then (OMG, I sounded old just now!) we didn't have a lot of money, so Victoria's Secret was a super special treat. My sister and I spent hours looking at the catalog choosing our matching sweaters and flannel boxer shorts - blue for Katie, green for me, pink for mom.

Aside from the sentimentality, this thing is seriously the most comfortable thing I have ever worn. Soft cotton inside, brushed cotton outside and about two sizes too big so I can wear it over anything.

And I did wear it over anything - nearly every night of college and the entire first winter Nate and I were married. Nate hates this old, ugly, shapeless thing so much he christened it The Green Monster. It's like the clothing version of 'Honey, I've got a headache'. Being the good wife that I am, I've relegated it to only the coldest of nights or when I'm sick and just need to cuddle up.

So it was with great elation that I pulled it out of storage this weekend, snuggled into it and proudly wore it downstairs where Nate rolled his eyes, groaned and said, "That thing's still alive?".

Yes, my dear, yes it is.

Ever have one of those days....

....when the dog takes off after a rabbit and you must chase her through the neighborhood. Barefoot. In a skirt?

....when you spend 20 minutes tearing your desk apart looking for a file, only to discover you put it exactly where it was supposed to go?

...when you're already running late and you get all the way back to the car, keys in ignition, only to realize you left your purchase sitting at the cash register?

...when you get through the entire crazy day and realize that you've been wearing two different earrings.ALL.DAY.LONG?


Yeah, that kind of day never happens to me either.

Puppy Mommy FAIL

These two had a vet appointment today at 3:00pm.

I remembered said appointment at 5:00pm.

Puppy Mommy FAIL.

Miss me?

My, oh my, it's looking a little dusty and desolate around this place. I know I've been neglecting you, but I've been busy living unwrapping life. That is what this blog is supposed to be about, right? Well, when I actually make the time to blog about it, that is.

It's been a busy week for me, so I'm going to do something I swore I'd never do - the dreaded bullet point post. Hopefully that doesn't mean this blog is jumping the shark. I swear I'll go another 300 posts before I use bullet points again.

• My baby sister Emily came to visit last Monday. The trip was her graduation/birthday gift from us.
• We worked on a super-top-secret Father's and Mother's Day gift for our parents.
  
• Indy had a ridiculous hail storm and damaged Nate's brand new car to the tune of $4500. Nice.
• Mani for Em, pedi for me. Very happy feet.
• Flew to SC for Emily's graduation. Scored two crack rocks espresso brownies a the Chicago airport.
  
• Stayed up until the wee hours every night we were in SC. Exhausting? Yes. Worth every minute? Absolutely.
• Drank my weight in Cheerwine and Sonic Cherry Limeade.
  
• Went to my dad's softball game. I did this weekly as a kid so it was super fun to do it again as an adult.

• Managed not to yell obscenities at the idiot who was standing up and talking on his cell phone during the graduation ceremony.
  
• Climbed a fence in a dress and 4 inch heels at Emily's graduation.

• Stuffed myself full of Bermuda Triangles at Red Bone Alley, all in celebration of Em's accomplishments, of course.
• Showed my Aunt Jo that it is indeed possible to take a decent (albeit cheesy), centered picture of yourself with your own camera.

• Learned that I totally suck at the spelling game Third of a Ghost, despite the fact that I'm an excellent speller. Long story short - if you score three points, you're out. I never made it further than four rounds....
• Stuffed myself full of Stuffed French Toast at IHOP. Realized that I have a thing for pastry stuffed with stuff.

By the time we hit the airport to come home on Sunday afternoon, I was tired. Just how tired, you ask? As we're making our way to our gate, I noticed a girl coming toward us wearing a really cute top. I started to point her out to Nate when I realized we were walking towards a mirrored column. The girl in the cute top? Me.

It's like rain on your wedding day

Dear Friends who were at the pool with me yesterday,

If ever again you hear me say that I chose not to apply sunscreen because we are 'only going to be here for an hour', please slap me silly and then refuse to speak to me until I go home and lather up.

I am now paying for my shameful inattention to proper sun protection with a ridiculously painful sunburn that has turned my chest, stomach and legs a most hideous shade of lobster. To add insult to the (literal) injury, the combination of late day setting sun and my attempts to read a few pages of my book have resulted in a funky trapezoidal design. My shins are burned, but not my thighs. My right shoulder is burned but not my left. The line across my tummy is at a 60 degree angle. Classy.

My plans to wear a strapless dress to this weekend's graduation festivities will have to be scrapped. I do not even know where to begin to fix the hot mess that is currently my upper half.

The ironic part? I skipped my carefully planned MysticTan appointment to go to the pool with you instead.

Painfully yours,
Sara

That just happened

So I'm in the kitchen, tearing open the last pack of Strawberry Pop-tarts when in my haste to get to that frosted goodness suddenly the foil packet tears completely in two and the pop-tarts go sailing through the air....

And I proceed to catch them between my knees. I know, you're totally jealous of my cat-like reflexes.

Sadly for me, my knees are faster than my brain. Catching pop-tarts with ones bare knees is a messy and highly sticky endeavor. The pop-tarts promptly exploded on impact, showering myself, the kitchen floor and one (formerly) white Pomeranian with strawberry jelly and tiny frosted crumbs.

Stupid cat-like reflexes.

Are you afraid of the dark?

Lately I have been staying up later and later at night, reading or watching trash TV movies, often not going to be until midnight or later. Of course this will have to stop when I start my part time gig next Wednesday because this gal likes her beauty sleep. It took me five weeks to work up to my night owlish ways and now I only have 5 days to get myself out of it.

Unfortunately for me, Night #1 didn't go so well. As I laid in bed, wishing desperately for sleep, I started thinking about all the weird rules I had for sleeping when I was a kid:

1. When getting into bed, you must turn off the overhead light, then take a running leap onto the bed. You must not get any closer than three feet before making said leap, lest someone grab your ankles from underneath the bed.

2. The bedside lamp must be kept on at all times. (This was the rule until I was 9 and the lamp fell onto a pillow and burned a hole through it. After that, I was only allowed to have a plug-in night light.)

3. The bed must be pushed against a wall and you must sleep facing out toward the side that is not against the wall. This way no one can sneak up on you in your sleep.

4. Any stuffed animals or dolls sleeping in bed with you must have their head on a pillow and be tucked under the covers. Dolls get cold, too.

5. Under no circumstances do you ever sleep on your back. This leaves your stomach vulnerable to random attacks of malicious jumping. (Can you tell I had younger siblings?)

6. All body parts (except your head) must be covered by the blanket or, at the very least, the sheet. Any body part not covered by the blanket or sheet is subject to dismemberment should someone manage to sneak up on you (see rule #3).

Yeah, I know. I was a sad, strange little kid.

Sadly, as I thought about all my childhood sleeping rules, I realized that I have almost as many as an adult. They're aren't quite as strange, but they're rules none the less.

1. I must have a fan or white noise machine going to block out noise.

2. I must have a pillow between my knees, one in my arms, one under my head and a fourth to put over my head in case the fan is not doing a good enough job. Nate thinks sleeping with a pillow over my head is the weirdest thing he's ever seen. My mom does it too and I've done it for as long as I can remember.

3. I must put chap stick on my lips before I go to sleep, otherwise I'll lie there thinking about how badly I need chap stick. It should be noted that I don't wear chap stick at any other time during the day. Weird, I know.

4. I wear a sleep mask to block out light. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. Seriously, it really does help you sleep better.

5. I no longer have to keep every body part covered but I still never, ever sleep on my back. Old fears die hard, I suppose.

Did you have weird bedtime rules when you were a kid? Are there things you absolutely must do to get a good night's sleep?

Warning: Females only beyond this point

Boys, don't say I didn't warn you.

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Still here, men? Well, suit yourself...

One of my favorite Sunday activities is checking out the latest PostSecrets. There's just something about reading other people's secrets that makes me feel not quite so bad about my own.

My favorite PostSecret ever was this one until this one totally cracked me up two weeks ago:


Seriously, this thought has never ever occurred to me. Perhaps because I have been a card carrying member of the Itty Bitty T*tty Committee since age 13, I've never had to worry about such a thing. These 34A's barely stick out enough to get caught in a bra, much less metal pinchers that should be nowhere near chest level anyway.

So I'm curious, you blessedly endowed readers, has this thought ever occurred to you? Or, God forbid, have you actually gotten your lovely lady lumps caught in something? I must admit, I am tres curious how the 'other' half lives.

And, boys (if you are still reading), I bet you'll heed my warning next time, won'tcha?

Dang

Don't you just hate it when you get into the car and realize that the doggie bag you put in the backseat yesterday at lunch are still there?

So not only does your car stink to high heaven, but you totally ruined three perfectly good Chili's Southwest Eggrolls?

What? You never needlessly waste good food because you are a total space cadet?

Must just be me then.

DWF seeks THS ASAP

Desperate white female seeks talented hair stylist before I pull my hair out as soon as possible...

To say that I need a haircut is an understatement. I needed a haircut three weeks ago. Now I need a hair intervention.

Suffice it to say that after a hideous bowl cut at age 7, several unfortunate perms, an ill-advised attempt at bangs, and a traumatic incident involving a bleeding ear, I have become incredibly par.tic.u.lar about who comes near my head with a pair of shears.

From age 10 until roughly 24 (minus two years out-of-country), I had the same fabulous hairstylist, Donnie. All I had to do was say, 'I need more body' or 'I'm tired of this or that' and he knew exactly what to do - no pictures of celebrity hairstyles required! I always left his chair feeling like a rock star. Right through college and the first few years in Tennessee, a quick call to Donnie and he would squeeze me in any time I was back home in SC.

After two years in Tennessee and much soul searching, I decided it was time to grow up and find someone a little closer to home. I couldn't very well continue to drive five hours one-way every time I needed a haircut, could I? Into my life entered Zelda; a younger, female version of Donnie. Oh, Zelda, where had you been all my life the last two years of my life? It was to Zelda that I entrusted my post-Locks of Love 'do. Never in my life did I expect to say, 'Cut off 12 inches and do whatever you want with the rest', but that was how much I trusted Zelda not to steer me wrong. And the angled bob that emerged from her magic scissors was one of my favorite haircuts of all time.

Which is why, 20 months after leaving Knoxville, I have yet to find a new stylist in my new home state. I arranged business trips and wedding weekends around my need for a trim. This worked well when I was required to be in K-town every other week and then every other month. Not so much anymore now that non-essential business travel has come to a screeching halt and the next Knoxville-friend wedding isn't scheduled until July. What's a girl to do with no Knoxville trip in sight?

It's time to bite the bullet and find a new Donnie or Zelda. I have put it off long enough. A haircut with a weed-whacker would be an improvement over the hot mess that is currently on my head.

Good families don't....

Let a little thing like 50 below zero get in the way of seeing each other.

My sister Katie seems to be having a hard time remembering that A Promise is a Promise no matter how much snow is on the ground. I guess I will have to Wait and See and see if she will come visit me From Far Away.

I am not above bribing her with Something Good or threatening to Get Me Another One(sister, that is!) if she doesn't come see me soon.

I will Love Her Forever, whether she comes to visit or not. But I just need to know one thing:

Katie, aren't I worth $29.95?

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*If you have never read the children's books by Canadian author Robert Munsch, you and your children are missing out! My personal favorites are Love You Forever, Something Good and Good Families Don't.

It's finally happening...

I never thought I'd see the day, but I think I might be getting used to this Northern weather. I went outside today in 40 degree weather without my coat on....and I wasn't even cold.

I actually told someone I was happy it had 'warmed up' for the day.

Gasp. Choke. Cough. Some one come save me before I turn into a Northerner!

Not Me Monday

Because reading about other people's 'not me' moments makes me feel just a little bit better about my own not so bright moments that totally didn't happen this week...

This week, I most certainly did not miss the bedroom door and run into the wall instead because I was walking up the stairs in the dark...at night...while texting on my phone. Not me!

I also did not hit my head on the new shelves in the powder bathroom because I forgot I moved the trashcan to the other wall. I mean, who walks around in the dark all the time like that? Not me!

I did not spend last Wednesday freezing my butt off until Nate came home from work and realized he forgot to turn up the heat before he left for work that morning. Who would just shiver all day long in a 62 degree arctic tundra and never once think to check the thermostat? Not me!

And finally, I would never, ever, in a million years look at a dinner menu and tell Nate I had no idea what 'duh-vIled' [pronounced like 'vile'] tilapia is. Because obviously that word is 'deviled', as in deviled eggs. Duh. Who would look at that word at least six times, and give it serious consideration, and still get it wrong? Nope, not me!

Kinda makes you want one, right?

OMG, I almost died laughing when I got this in an email today. Thanks for the smile on a Back to Work Monday, Buster!