this is a conversation i had with my dad. in the basement. when he was here last week.
dad [after telling him our surround sound wasn't working upstairs. and we needed to figure out what was wrong with it]: how the hell does around sound break?
me: it's surround sound, dad.
dad: i bought around sound once. your mother didn't like it.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
do over
i don't even remember what day this even happened. all i know is that it was the worst pain i have felt. ever. even if i was in labor and had a kidney stone. at the same time. i would know. i have had both. but never together. i think it was a week ago. or so. i had a pain in my abdomen. one like i have never felt before. and it kept getting worse. to the point i couldn't stand it. and i have a high threshold for pain. my abdomen was so full. of what i didn't know. and there was a sharp pain on my lower left side. that didn't go away. i couldn't even bend over. or even think about bending over. so, i went to my doctor the next day. she was uncertain. she sent me to the hospital for an x-ray. and i am not sure if it was because every step i took i wanted to die. or every time i got in and out of the car i wanted it to run me over. but it must have been pick a technician off the street day at the hospital. the blood technician had someone in the room with her. to make sure she was doing it right. i wasn't in the mood. the guy that came to take me in for the x-ray must have had a stroke. and he was the one that knew more than the guy preparing me for the x-ray itself. i wasn't in the mood. the last time i felt anywhere near this was when i had a compacted colon after sophie was born. the x-ray came back clean. my doctor thought i may have a cyst on my ovary. funny. my sister just had one a few months ago. but my doctor wasn't sure. so, she wanted me to wait until thursday to come back in if i was still in pain. it was tuesday. if i was still in that much pain by thursday i would have jammed a screwdriver in my abdomen. but later in the day wednesday the pain was slowly dissipating and eventually came to a dull roar by thursday afternoon. and then just went away. so let's try this again. see you tomorrow.
Friday, February 5, 2010
emergency will robinson
so. the carpenter is back. and ron white is in town. this is not a good combination. but we got tickets anyway. glad we did. my cheeks hurt. from laughing. long enough to take my mind off of this conversation:
dad [minutes before we left for the show. i should remind you this is the first time my dad has watched the kids for an extended period of time. by himself. having to put them to bed. and change their diapers before bed. which i forgot to remind him to do]: 'you're gonna have to give me the address to the hospital. or something. in case somebody gets hurt.'
me [with a blank stare]: uh, 911.
side note: number one - what the hell. number two - there is no way he could find the hospital. even if i did give him the address. number three - there is no way in hell he could drive fast enough to get there before we even got home from the show. and lastly - he has no clue on how to get either one of those kids in a carseat.
but the kids were just fine. diapers were changed. catastrophe diverted.
dad [minutes before we left for the show. i should remind you this is the first time my dad has watched the kids for an extended period of time. by himself. having to put them to bed. and change their diapers before bed. which i forgot to remind him to do]: 'you're gonna have to give me the address to the hospital. or something. in case somebody gets hurt.'
me [with a blank stare]: uh, 911.
side note: number one - what the hell. number two - there is no way he could find the hospital. even if i did give him the address. number three - there is no way in hell he could drive fast enough to get there before we even got home from the show. and lastly - he has no clue on how to get either one of those kids in a carseat.
but the kids were just fine. diapers were changed. catastrophe diverted.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
an open letter
dear backyard neighbor:
yes, you. in case you haven't noticed. it's the fourth of february. christmas is over. two months ago over. so take down your effing christmas lights already. you know, those blinking lights. on your deck railing. that you put up last october. that are still on. yeah. those.
thanks
yes, you. in case you haven't noticed. it's the fourth of february. christmas is over. two months ago over. so take down your effing christmas lights already. you know, those blinking lights. on your deck railing. that you put up last october. that are still on. yeah. those.
thanks
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
what he said
it is the second of february. the ground hog comes out of his hole. and sees his shadow. it's the shadow of my right front tire. that means winter will last six more weeks. but not for him.
thank you to the red green show. i miss you.
thank you to the red green show. i miss you.
Monday, February 1, 2010
fill it to the rim
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
