Thursday, January 31, 2008

Happy Post (to contrast with the gloom and doom of the previous post)

If you picked dress A, I totally get it. When I first saw dresses A and B, I really liked dress A better, but then I saw them in person, and B is actually quite lovely. Just goes to show you that you should never buy your wedding dress over the internet. Seriously, people do this?

I’m going back up to Minneapolis later this month to actually purchase the dress and make sure it’s the one that I want. I may try a couple of other dresses on, just for comparison, but truly it’s got the look I’m going for (Great Gatsby style outdoor ceremony) and will work well with Brett’s suit. I'm doing this in Minneapolis because my aunt is micromanaging the wedding. It makes her happy, and I like company on these things, so it works out.

Our color theme is huckleberry, because huckleberries are a symbol of Montana, and I love the deep purple color. Thus, our flowers will all be in that color family, and Brett’s suit will be crème. My sister will be my matron of honor, and Brett’s brother will be his best man. That’s it for the wedding party. We are extremely low maintenance about this whole thing. I am making the wedding invites myself (with some help from these folks) and the receptions (there are 4) will be held in the backyards of various family members.

We are getting married at Minnehaha Falls in the pergola (some of you Minnesotans will know this place I hope). Ever since I was a little girl, I loved going to the falls and getting and ice cream cone and occasionally seeing a wedding ceremony going on. I am seriously getting married in the spot of my girlhood dreams. How cheesy.

We are no longer getting married in Montana, mostly due to my dad being sick and the fact that it was simply too hard to plan a wedding so far away and keep it at a managable budget. At first I was disappointed, but honestly I'm going to wind up with the ceremony of my dreams, and I'm so glad that Brett is so flexible and so thankful that he is putting my happiness first. However, we will have a big blow out party for our friends in Red Lodge, Montana, and then a reception at Brett’s parents’ house in Great Falls. It’s going to be a kick ass month of celebration and I cannot wait.

Broken Record

I’m super depressed today. In fact, I woke up at 4am and turned over to Brett and woke him up to tell him I was sorry for moving here, so sorry. I have nothing but great timing. I mean, who doesn’t want to be awoken by their spouse at 4am to have her start bawling about how sorry she was for taking them away from things they both loved. I suck.

Last night’s badness was compounded by the fact that Millie, our poodle, had an accident on the bed. I awoke at 1:11am (why do I always look at the clock first? I mean, I could be awoken by a raging fire in my bedroom, and I’d still check the clock before I tried to escape out the second floor window) to Brett saying, “Oh fuck!” or something close to that, because Millie had an accident that soaked through our comforter and onto the sheets. So, we had a frantic stripping of the bed, and getting clean sheets on and sleeping under mismatched blankets that were just not as warm as our now pee soaked down comforter. This is not Millie’s fault mind you. She has an under developed vulva, so she is on hormone treatment, but sometimes she still has accidents when she sleeps. She was not happy about the situation either.

So I guess we will be taking a field trip to a Laundromat tonight as a king size down comforter certainly will not fit within the confines or our washing machine.

It is my morning routine to take a shower, then go out to the kitchen, turn on the local news, and make tea and try to get warm and wake up. I tend to watch the local CBS affiliate because their morning anchors were more tolerable than the other choices. However, one of the anchors died in a tragic snowmobile accident just one week ago. For some reason this has upset me more than it ought to. I was watching their coverage of his funeral this morning and I just started sobbing. Why? I didn’t know the guy, but it was just so sad and strange to have this familiar person, who was a daily constant, suddenly and tragically dead.

I’d love to blame my emotional lability on my period or some such, but I think it’s just the constant struggle to keep things together and try so hard to feel at home in a place that still feels unfamiliar. I am feeling extremely guilty for any hardship this move has given Brett (his business to talk about if he so chooses) and I miss our friends.

P.S. It's dress B. Surprisingly sliming and flattering!

Wednesday, January 30, 2008


I have an obsession with remote locations. It’s strange but true. I spend copious quantities of time researching the Northwest Territories of Canada and wondering what it would be like to live in Barrow, Alaska. Brett and I get excited over information about the research stations in Antarctica. I am moderately obsessed with Lapland in Scandinavia, and desperately want to visit.

Who wouldn't want to make this metropolis home?

I am not an adventurist, and have no desire to engage in extreme survivalist activities, but I am enthralled by daily life in remote areas, especially cold remote areas. I am not talking about leaving society and shacking up in an abandoned cabin in the woods. No, I’m talking about the fully functioning towns that make these harsh climates home. Over 4,000 people live in Barrow and honestly, that’s about as remote as it gets for a “city” in the U.S. How do 4,000 people live where the warmest month of the year averages 46 degrees?

I have no idea why I’m so fascinated, but it’s a constant obsession. I think it would be thoroughly exciting to somehow do something that would let us live somewhere more remote. Maybe this obsession is a reaction to living in a megalopolis, but I have always been fascinated with such places. However, I think I romanticize them. I mean, I routinely fantasize about living a life like Joel Fleishman in Northern Exposure. Unfortunately, that’s T.V. and real life is never quite as “colorful.” However, I have spent time in remote places. In fact, when Brett and I started dating, he lived in a town with fewer than 100 people in it. I enjoyed it. Would I enjoy it forever? Who knows.

When I first moved to Montana, it scared me a bit. I mean, at night, it was just so very dark. And when you traveled the interstate, you could go many many miles without any where to stop and very few other cars. It was intimidating for a city girl. But something changed in me, and I began to feel less threatened by daunting landscapes, and now I’m more threatened by massive populations. It’s amazing how little patience I have for cities now. I love the convenience of a city and the fact that everything you want is right there, but a city life is no longer my dream. I used to imagine having a well appointed high rise condo, or a row house within walking distance to cafes and shops. Now, when I search for real estate, I’m more concerned about acreage and “shop” space for Brett’s tools.

All this talk about cold makes me colder than I already am. It’s a mere 3 degrees in Chicago today, and the wind chill will render you speechless, or possibly dead. Nevertheless, I am invigorated by the cold.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

If your name is Brett, read no further

First things first, Chicago is a kick ass town and there are so many wonderful things about this town and we take advantage of all of them, so don't think we're sitting around with our proverbial thumbs up our proverbial assess, we're not, I promise. This town is more fun than I know what to do with, it's just the stupid shit that I'm bitching about, like taking hours to get home from work and maybe the fact that every city has its share of pompous ass holes. End bitch fest.

Okay, now for the fun stuff. I'm taking a poll:

Theses are the two wedding dresses that I really really like . . . which one do you like? It should be known that I pretty much know which one I'm getting, but I'm just curious what other folks think.

(forgive me for not putting the actual pictures up here, but I'm afraid Brett will see them, I know he won't click on the links because he is a GOOD BOY.)

Dress A:

Dress B:

And if you don't like either dress, tell me that too, I want to KNOW!!!

Still Here

Often times, I wake up and expect to be in our house in Billings. Then I open my eyes, and lo and behold, we are in Chicago. Sometimes I try to wish us back to that house in Billings, but I keep opening my eyes and keep seeing Chicago. We've lived here for 7 months now, you'd think this would stop.

It's not that I regret moving here, I don't. It's just that things were so much MORE comfortable in Billings, and I know I'm a broken record, but this town just takes so much MORE effort to exist in. I guess it just doesn't fit with my laziness. Then again, if we had just a few friends, things would feel fine here. That's what it comes down too, I miss having friends.

I keep trying different things to make friends, but I keep failing miserably. Folks just seem to have no interest in my witty banter and self-depricating humor (seriously, I'm much more charming in person, it's true). I think we're just in the wrong part of the town. Folks here are mostly yuppie couples with toddlers. We're mostly not. I think we're just misfits who prefer the company of other misfits who like dive bars and liberal politics. Whatever, we're just weird.

However, I am beginning some volunteer work at a local no-kill shelter, in attempt to become part of the community. Brett and I used to be heavily involved in volunteering in Billings, and it was both super annoying and rather fulfilling. That's the things about volunteering, they use and abuse you, but it's for a good cause, so you can't get mad. The place we volunteered with in Billings LOVED Brett and had him preparing to run for city council and become a big fish in a little pond. Here, we can only be little fishes in a HUGE pond, and maybe that's better. We'll see.

Friday, January 25, 2008

more talk of girl parts (should really rename my blog)

In general, I think I have a pretty high pain threshold. Most of the time, if I know some sort of pain is coming, I can deal with it. Then I met the cervical biopsy. Hello torture! Dear God, last night was 10 minutes of terrible. I think part of the problem was that Brett was able to view the entire procedure. They kind of trapped him a spot that allowed him to look at nothing but my be-speculumed (spell checker doesn’t like that one) vagina and the fact that they were tearing parts of my cervix out and putting them in little containers. At first he looked fine, but as soon as they “pinched” (that’s what the doc said I’d feel, ha!) the first bit of cervix off, all the color in Brett’s face drained out and I could tell he was horrified. This then horrified me too and I felt like I was going to be sick. Also, I just hate anything dealing with instruments and “pinching” of my internal organs, it freaks me the hell out. (You’re probably all wondering how the hell I’m going to deal with child birth, and frankly, I have no idea, except that I’ll get a baby out of the deal instead of some rating on the cancer potential of my cervix) It’s also just a creepy feeling because I don’t have many nerve endings in my cervix, but I can feel this distant, disturbing pain, and once again FREAKING OUT.

Of course the doctor would never know that I’m freaking out because I was raised to grin and bear it, and maybe there was a discussion about the fucking stimulus package going on whilst my doctor probed down below. Not the time for political discussion, but whatever.

Anyway, I like this doctor, who wants to do the laparoscopy and D&C, and he listened to me express my concerns and listened to me regarding the alternative treatments the other doctor suggested. However, I still don’t know if I should have the surgery. I mean I’d love to rule out any gynecological problems so I could just know that it was my urinary tract, but also, its surgery and that comes with inherent risks and I haven’t had many of the common symptoms of endometriosis (i.e. pain related to cycle, spotting, heavy bleeding, etc.), but my inherent NEED to make sure every base is covered, and every potential problem addressed is making me WANT to have the surgery. The doc thought that it would be a good idea if we weren’t’ planning to have kids for a few years, because if we were planning to get pregos within a year, well conceiving a child would kind of let us know if all things were in working order. BUT if we wait 4 or 5 years (which we probably will) then I may not know and things could get worse, etc. Oh shit, what to do?

Are you all bored yet?

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Three parts, all nonsensical


My future husband eats a ridiculous number of pistachios per day. Seriously, it’s time for a nut intervention (he even puts frosting on them). Last night he came home from class and reported to me, in a proud manner, as though he had accomplished something worthy of praise, that he had not had a single pistachio that day. I think this new found love of pistachios is due to the fact that there is very little snack food left in our house and this is the closest approximation. Also, there seems to have been a bumper crop of pistachios this year as they are constantly on sale. Good thing too.

Nanny 911:

Do you know what my new favorite television show is? I’ll tell you. It’s Nanny 911. I know, it’s been on for years, but I’ve only just recently started watching it every week because Brett goes to class at night, which allows me to watch all sorts of crap on T.V. (I’m talking to you Real Housewives of Orange County, The Hills, Intervention, any an all iterations of Law & Order). Last night’s episode was about a single father, who was given full custody of his two boys. This father had been abused (so I assume, based on statements like, “my childhood was a living hell,” etc.) and was now raising his children with basically no discipline. It killed me. I was crying, and felt so bad for this little family. I thought Jo, the nanny, did a really great job of helping them, and so help me if I don’t think this craptastic reality television show isn’t actually doing some kind of public service for parents out there. I love Nanny 911. There I said it.

The “TMI” portion of today’s post:

So tonight I have to have a colposcopy because my pap smear came back with funky cells on it for the second time in a row. I’m not all too worried about this, because I understand that many women have this happen, but I am wondering if all of this isn’t somehow related to my undiagnosable pain (it’s probably not). Occasionally I get myself all worked up and worried that I have cancer and that it’s gone so far as to cause pain in my pelvis and I’ll have to have radiation, which will make me infertile and then I’ll just have to quit my job and run off to help babies in African orphanages because my life will be worth nothing if I can’t reproduce. Yes, these are the thoughts that run through my head. And yes, I am crazy.

I’m making Brett come with for this little adventure, because I need to have a bit of a heart to heart with my doctor, and two ears are better than one and also he can stop me the next time I say, “I have cancer,” and remind me that the doctor actually said I would be fine. Also, why shouldn’t he see me in stirrups with a speculum inserted? That won’t scare him away from every having sex with me again or anything.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Oh dear

Oh dear. It seems people are coming to my little blog looking for answers about all sorts of things from how to find a wedding dress to accommodate fake boobies to a quandary regarding a lack of vagina. Oh dear indeed.

On a different note, let's talk about something that will be safe from seedy google searches . . . The Weather (riveting, I know). It's just that it's snowing a bit right now and the snow looks like glitter. Seriously, it's like someone threw down some Elmer's glue and is now dusting a coat of glitter over this card board paper we call earth. Quite pretty really.

Also, it's fucking cold, and still our dogs have yet to learn to use the toilet. They don't like going out in this weather and don't like it either. The solution would obviously be to teach them to use the toilet, but they are dogs of very little brain (one is name after Winnie the Pooh for crying out loud) and would undoubtedly fall in. So, we will just maintain with the other operation, which is strategically changing into my pajamas at like 4pm such that Brett is then forced to take the dogs out when it gets really cold because, "I can't take the dogs out, I'm in my pajamas." Diabolical.

New topic . . .

Yesterday I wrote about all these diets I'm on. Really, what I'm doing (Brett came up with this plan, so I can't take credit) is sticking to the one diet for 10 days and seeing how I feel, and then trying the other diet for 10 days and seeing how I feel. Good plan. So far, I'm feeling pretty good on the No-Bladder-Irritant diet that involves lots and lots of healthy things. Sadly, alcohol is not one of them, but I will survive.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008


Let's talk about food. We all know that I am a big fan of food. I am not a picky eater, and odds are I'll try anything. In fact, I asked Brett last night whether he would eat the still beating heart of a cobra (something I witnessed Anthony Bourdain do on No Reservations). Brett said that, "yes, I could eat the still beating heart of a cobra." I was not so certain, but nevertheless, were I in a place where that was customary, and were I to offend someone if I refused to eat said still beating heart of a cobra, I probably would find a way to do it.

Now, various diets have been proposed to me over the course of the last few months, in order to help me get healthy. This is mostly realted to my poor little bladder, but also to the fact that I am, and always have been, chronically constipated. I won't go into details about how completely miserable chronic constipation can be, but really, you'd be surprised how important a good poop is to one's general health.

So obviously a high fiber diet is imperative to my health. This necessitates lots of vegetable, fruits and whole grains. Luckily, this is the diet one is also supposed to follow for weight loss. Seems like a win win situation, no?

Not for me.

I also am supposed to avoid the following foods, due to my bladder situation:

All alcoholic beverages (sigh)
apple juice
carbonated drinks
chilies/spicy food (sigh)
coffee (triple sigh)
citrus fruits/juices
lemon juice
vitamin B complex (WTF?)
chocolate (sigh)

Well, there are still alot of food left over that I can enjoy. So it would seem that I just cut all the above out, and eat things like pears, blueberries, leafy greens, beans, whole grains, etc. EXCEPT, my doctor also suggested I try a low oxalate diet. Unfortunately, the low oxalate diet means I can't eat such things such as pears, blueberries, leafy greens, beand and whole grains. This leaves me with a diet of water and rice. Now is the time on Flibberty's blog when we cry.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Brett wrote a new post over here, at our much neglected foody-blog. Now I'm hungry.

The famous couple you never knew about: Nicolas Cage and Anna Nicole

Brett and I went to see a movie last night. There’s a theater nearby that serves food and drink during the movie, and we love it! I love going to movies period, but add beer and I’m about ready to burst with delight.

We saw National Treasure, and it was totally cheesy, but that was to be expected. I love a good cheesy movie, and I adore Nicolas Cage. You see, people (truly, this happens more frequently than it should) often say that Brett looks like Nicolas Cage. In fact, when we were moving out here, we stopped at a gas station in North Dakota and this little girl came up to him and asked for his autograph. I think he should have just given her an autograph so she could run to her little friends and say she met Nicolas Cage at the KwikTrip in Valley City, ND. Unfortunately, Brett is less of a liar than I, and declined her request.

The other famous figure Brett gets mistake for is Ray Romano, who, well . . . eh. I don’t see it, but whatevs. Also, my sister thinks he looks like Russell Crowe, but she is often very far off base with regards to everything. I mean, she’s a vegetarian for crying out loud!

Do any of you ever get mistaken for famous people? People used to say I looked like Anna Nicole Smith, which horrified me on so many levels. Luckily for me, she is no longer and therefore folks are far less likely to refer to a dead person when they meet me. Harsh, I know, but come on!

This weekend it’s supposed to be ridiculously cold. Luckily we don’t have shit to do, but sit inside and make stew and watch Die Hard 2: Die Harder. Yes, I know, I’m about 15 years late to the Die Hard franchise, but for some reason I had never seen any Die Hards until about 2 weeks ago, and I still have yet to see a Terminator film. Clearly I missed the best of the early 90’s.

We also get to go to dance class tonight. Brett and I took a ballroom dance class in Billings, but it left something to be desired; namely, knowledge of ballroom dance. So, we’re taking another class here and it’s about a million times better. Our instructor in Billings was a man named “Skip” who had a belly so rotund that his partner would have to form herself into the letter “c” to dance with him. He also was fond of calling all women “little lady” and he kind of smelled like baby powder. He was weird. Now we have an instructor who is a lady and she has no belly and smells like nothing definable, so I’m quite please. Also, Brett and I are by far the stars of the class, which is fantastic. Tonight: RHUMBA!

Thursday, January 17, 2008


I knew some girls in Montana who were not really my speed. I liked them fine, but they would sometimes grate on my nerves because they had these little sayings. For example, when one of them would say something cute about her boyfriend, the other ones would automatically ring in saying “Pukey-Puke!” Anyway, I’m about to go all “Pukey-Puke!” on your asses . . .

Sometimes I cannot believe my luck and fortune to be with this man.

. . . end pukey-puke transmission.

If you don't like the word "vagina" don't read this post

So yesterday afternoon, Brett and I drove across the metropolitan area of Chicago (frightening on so many levels, mostly due to the a-holes who occupy the roads in this fine city) and saw a new doctor. I wanted a second opinion on the whole surgery thing, because it's surgery, and also I just got a funny feeling about the first gyne I saw. I don’t know why, but something inside me was questioning his wisdom. I am so glad I listen to that little voice in my head!

This new doctor was fantastic, and she really listened to us, and she seemed to want to treat the whole me, instead of just one symptom. I like this. She also thought that I was not a candidate for surgery right now, because I really don’t have any symptoms, aside from pelvic pain, that would lead her to believe I have endometriosis or fibroids or cysts or any of those fun things. In fact, she even did an ultrasound and while an ultrasound cannot rule out any of the above, everything did look healthy and I even got a BIG SCREEN up close and personal look at my uterus and my fallopian tubes and all that good stuff. Fascinating anatomy lesson.

Anyway, what she did find out (WARNING, it’s about to get graphic) is that I am incredibly tense down there. She made me flex my kegels (we all know what kegels are don’t we?) while she was examining me, and she said that they never relaxed, even though I thought they did. So basically, I’m just one big ball of tension in my girl parts, which totally explains why intercourse makes me wince in pain. (What? I warned you)

Now this tension may not explain my bladder pain, and she did say that it could be interstitial cystitis (NO!!!!) but since that’s a diagnosis of elimination, we’re going to try some other things first. Most of these other things involve changing my diet (so long peppermint tea, hello Ovaltine!) and teaching my muscles how to relax. Did you know there is such a thing as vaginal physical therapy? I did not, but I’m excited about it. It involves massages, and possibly electrical stimulation (doesn’t that sound naughty!).

So, I think I shall cancel the surgery and somehow break up with my other gynecologist and possibly my urologist. I hate breaking up with people, whether it is a relationship or a hairdresser. Usually, I just disappear (I know, I’m terrible, and also fond of parentheses) and don’t tell them. I think I have to actually tell these doctors and that gives me the nervous tummy.

Also, I'm supposed to do yoga, like routinely. I have one yoga DVD, but doing the same one day in and day out kind of makes me want to shoot myself and also the T.V. Anyone know any good yoga DVDs or videos?

Finally, I made some awesome cookies the other day. They were from a recipe given to me by this lady and I highly recommend them. They are healthy, but delicious!

Here's the recipe (thank you Artemesia!):

Kitchen Sink

Cookies Copyright 2007, Ellie Krieger, All rights reserved

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2 tablespoons canola oil
1/3 cup light brown sugar
1/4 cup applesauce
1 egg white 1 teaspoon vanilla
2/3 cup whole-wheat pastry flour
1/2 cup oatmeal
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup chopped dried cherries
1/4 cup chopped dried apricots
1/4 cup lightly toasted walnuts
2 ounces dark chocolate, cut into chunks
Cooking spray

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Combine butter, oil and brown sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer and mix on high speed, stopping occasionally to scrape down bowl, until mixture is light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add applesauce, egg white and vanilla and mix to combine. Add flour, oatmeal, salt and cinnamon and mix just until just combined. Add cherries, apricots, walnuts and chocolate and mix to combine. Spray 1 baking sheet with cooking spray. Using 1 tablespoon cookie dough at a time, roll into balls and place 2-inches apart on baking sheet. Press cookies down with the palm of your hand to flatten slightly, as cookies will not spread as much as cookies with more butter.

Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, or until lightly browned but still soft. Remove from oven and cool on racks.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


I wrote a really depressing entry, but then I though, “nah.” Sometimes trying not to be sad helps you actually not feel sad. In fact I had a therapist once who told me to smile even when I don’t feel like it, because sometimes your muscle movement can improve your mood. Note, we’re not talking about full fledged depression here, and also note that this is the same therapist that prescribed anti-depressants and anxiety medication that took me 6 months to come off of.

Now, I have not been able to have any caffeine for a few months. I don’t miss it very much, and in fact, I actually feel better on the whole. What with fewer headaches and my tummy seems less prone to random bouts of post-coffee “blech” feelings. But, I’ve now got a nasty peppermint tea habit. I’m not sure if this is a bad thing, or a fine thing, but I drink so much peppermint tea during the day that I’m thinking of buying in bulk. I don’t know why everything I do has to be so all or nothing, but seriously, if I start something, I become either addicted to it, or never continue with it. It’s stupid really, but part of my personality I guess. Then again, there are several things that I half-ass, (like this blog) such that what I just said makes me completely full of shit.

I don’t know. I think I’m strange.

Also, I sit on a heating pad all day at work to mimic the effects of the bun warmers in cars. I personally do not have a bun warmer in my car, but I like them and wish I had one. Now I can pretend I have one in my office. Try it, you might like it. Just be careful not to burn your bum.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

currently annoyed by . . .

You know what I find most annoying about work out videos? When the instructors pretend they can see you. I rented a video from the library (our library is so wonderful, we don't even need Netflix) and the instructors keep saying, "good job!" "you're doing great!" "looks great!" How do they know I'm not sitting on the couch eating a pint of Chubby Hubby? I'm not, mind you, but I could be, and I'd rather be.

Additionally, I kind of dislike doing workout videos because the dogs just stare at me. Two little faces looking up at one big sweaty, dopey momma making huffy noises and maybe close to passing out. Then if I do any mat exercises, they immediately come over and start licking the delicious sweat off my face. It's so gross and sometimes I wonder why we have dogs. Then I remember how much I love them, or I see that damn ASPCA ad on T.V. with Sarah McLachlan (have you seen this?) and it makes me cry and I wind up ordering and ASPCA credit card. WTF?

Also annoying is our carpet. I hate carpet with an irrational passion. Our house in Billings had no carpet, and I liked it that way. Carpet give me hives just thinking about, and the fact that it is all over this apartment makes me perpetually itchy. I guarantee that the next place we buy will have no carpet anywhere, and if it does it will be immediately ripped out, even if it means I have to live on sub-flooring.

I would update on familial health situations, but so far there is no new news and nothing to update upon until my mom hears from her doc, and my dad sees a new doc at Mayo and I have surgery. Good times.

On a happy note, we had a low-key, but very enjoyable weekend that involved way too much Miller Lite and three full games of football, which is some kind of record for me. I just really think it would be fun if the Packers went all the way to the Super Bowl (and maybe won) but don't tell anyone here that, because if you're a Packers fan, well they might string you up a flag poll. I'm a Bears fan through and through, if anyone asks.

Now I'm stinky and itchy post work-out and must shower.

Friday, January 11, 2008

2008, you are officially on notice

WTF 2008? You are so far a total waste of calendar space. I mean, first you give my dad some MORE cancer, and then you won't let any doctors figure out what's wrong with me, and now you tell me that my mom needs her entire hip replaced? Seriously? It's not like we've all been enjoying superb health for years and years and you need to balance it out or some shit. I mean, jeez.

Lay off, that's all I'm saying.

Also, if you want to throw this big familial suffering bullshit at me, you could at least give us a break in the daily life crap. Like don't go giving Brett collegiate administrative red tape to jump through. He needs to be enjoying school and learning and all that good stuff, not dealing with crap that shouldn't be an issue in the first place.

Also, a raise would be nice, and maybe you could magically remove 25 pounds from my problem areas (a.k.a. belly, boobs and butt)

However, all that aside, I'd happily accept a good prognosis for dad, a successful surgery for mom, a diagnosis (with treatment options) for me, and a smooth sail for Brett.

Deal? Please.

Cookies? Please!


This is not a real post but more a lame solicitation for recipes . . . does anyone have a really yummy recipe for a cookie that does NOT involve chocolate. It would be extra good if it also did not involve any sort of unnatural ingredient (like butterscotch chips, or something of that ilk). I want to make some cookies to send in a care package for my dad, but they have to be healthy. Also, I'm not ingesting anything preserved or artificial due to my mysterious and very painful condition (recommended by my doctor, the internet) and I would also like to enjoy a cookie.


Love and Kisses, as always

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

This is an entry with a very woe is me tenor, and I know there are situations that are far worse, but perspective is sometimes hard to find. I'm just saying that because I may look back on this and feel dumb for being so devoid of aforementioned perspective.

Today is just sort of a day I really should have slept through. First of all, it's dreary, and far too warm for January, which is completely throwing me off. Give me some 25 below zero weather and I'm fine, but this 60 degree bullshit is just not right for January and makes me afraid for civilization, and also 184 degree summers.

More importantly, my dad informed me that his prostate cancer has metastasized to his bones. We kind of new this was a distinct possibility, but when I received the news in an email to my work email at 7am in the office this morning, I was a bit unprepared. He is really busy with work until tomorrow, so basically I can't talk to him until tomorrow, and it sucks. Cancer is a sucky thing. There's no other way for me to say that.

Also, I went to the urologist yesterday and he said to me, "I don't know what to tell you." That's never what you want to hear from your doctor. You want to hear, "I have a drug with minimal side-effects that will completely cure your condition." But no, instead he tells me I'm some kind of medical mystery. So he put me on a huge dose of antibiotics for no other reason than he doesn't know what else to do. I promptly went to my gynecologist and made an appointment because maybe this isn't about my bladder . . . maybe it's about my girl parts? Well the gyne wants me to under go a laparoscopy and a dilation and curettage and that's fine, except that my lingering fear that this is somehow related to my reproductive parts is now fully formed. I'm very scared that something has gone so wrong that I won't be able to have babies. I have no evidence that this is the case yet, but I am petrified of that result. I want to have babies.

Clearly not bringing the sunshine today. Forgive me.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Movie time

Has anyone seen any movies lately?

We've seen three in the same number of weeks, and I have to say, if we don't get ourselves to a rom-com or just a com soon, I may have to go on Prozac. You see, we've managed to choose films that are the ones where you have nothing to say after you see them. In fact, you're sort of in a state of shock and are simply relieved to be released from the theater (at least in my case).

The worst of these films was No Country for Old Men. Now I know that everyone is wetting themselves over this film, and I'm sure it's going to win all sorts of awards and I'm now probably labeled some sort of a philistine for not liking the film, but whatever. I kind of hated it. I should have known this before going to it, because I actually do not like anything that I have ever read by Cormac McCarthy and I cannot watch violent movies. I'm glad I saw it, because now I can say I saw it, but jesus, it was a rough ride.

We also saw Into The Wild, a book that I read about 3 years ago, by one of my favorite authors of all time, Jon Krakauer. The movie was wonderful, just as the book is, but anyone who is not moved and desperate after reading or seeing the film must not have a soul. It's unbelievable and I urge any of you who have not read the book, to get yourselves a copy post haste.

Finally, we saw Sweeney Todd, which I LOVED, despite the fact it literally made me nauseous, what with all the blood, and there is a serious amount of blood. However, it is marvelous and could anything be better than Johnny Depp, Alan Rickman, Sasha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter (who is completely amazing). Johnny Depp is the bees knees, that's what I'm saying.

So, tell me, what movie should we go see (or rent) that won't make me think very much, and won't make me nauseous and does not involve Cormac McCarthy in any way?

Friday, January 04, 2008

baby it's cold outside

The high yesterday was somewhere in the zero range. This does not bother me, because I own a down coat, a hat with ear flaps, high quality mittens and a scarf. Apparently no one else in Chicago has thought of purchasing such items as it was the TOP STORY on the news. WTF? It’s January in the Midwest, obviously it’s going to get cold. I actually enjoy the bitter cold because I am a Scandinavian and we are only happy when we're miserable. It’s how we roll.

So I’m three days into operation-look-smoking-hot-in-wedding-dress and it’s actually going pretty well. (Amber, we are not getting married until August 2008, but we already live together and I occasionally slip and call him my husband, and I can totally see where you’d think we are already hitched.) Anyway, I’ve suddenly gotten really into my wedding, which is odd because I kind of wasn’t that into it even a week ago. I guess now that the plans are actually in motion and I can actually imagine this thing going down and I’m getting really really excited to be blissfully wedded to my man, I can get excited. But here’s my question . . . why are all wedding dresses strapless? Obviously there are other styles out there, but I’d venture to say that 70% of the dresses I’ve seen are strapless. This looks good on lots of women, but not me. I have boobs. Big boobs that need straps and maybe a crane.

Also, (you didn’t know I was going to turn into a bridezilla did you?) I want a short wedding dress. This is unheard of I guess. Oh well, I could have worse problems, like the fact that I’m currently waiting for my urologist to call me back because the GD bladder pain is back with
a vengeance. I swear I’m going crazy. They’ve done a bazillion (okay, two) tests and there is no objective explanation for my pain. If it were 1882 they’d diagnose me with hysteria and call it a day. I hope they don’t do that now.

I secretly think I’m allergic to Illinois, but that’s hard to test for.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Welcome 2008 and I miss food

Well it’s come to this. I’m on a diet. This sucks. It has to be done though. I’ve let myself go too long solely eating beer and hot wings, and maybe lots of fancy cheese and baguettes slathered in butter. Oh dear God I’m hungry!

I know, I’ve been gone for 2 weeks, and here I am only to talk about food and the fact that I’m not eating any, and how terribly boring is that?! It’s just that when we were in Minnesota my mom and my aunt dragged me to try on wedding dresses and it wasn’t good. There were tears, and concerns that the other skinny women in the bridal boutique were quietly considering what type of man would marry a whale like me? Superficial and horrible? Yes. But I’m being honest. It sucked.

Most of me knows that I’m not really all that fat, but it’s just that I’m not comfortable in my own skin and have been running from cameras and form fitting clothing for about 2 years now, and it’s time to stop this foolishness. However, this is difficulty terrain for me because I have a long history of battling eating disorders, and severe ones at that. Basically, we’re on a slippery slope here, and I hope I don’t fall off.

Life goes on despite the fact I can’t have refined sugars.

Minnesota was alternatively super fun, and crushingly sad. Thus is the way of my family and the fact that no on can get past my parents’ failed marriage, despite the fact that they’ve been divorced longer than they were married. Such a drain on all. Also, step-parents are weird.

There’s that meme floating around, but really, all I can say is that I’m glad this year is over because it was hard.