Monday, November 28, 2011

Doctor, surgeon, public service announcer.

Bitches, I don't want to hear any smack talk about not being active with the whole blog thing.

That being said, I don't have much to tell you about, anyway.  So I'm going to gross you out instead.

About six months ago, Beanie told me he thought he had a little shard of glass stuck in his foot, like a splinter, but he couldn't get it out.

"No worries," said I.  "Just leave it alone and it will work itself out."

Only, it didn't, so eventually, I heard enough of his bitching to offer to do some at-home surgery with a tweezer and a needle.

He agonized and let me dig for a while, but I didn't come up with anything.  And the foot, it looked rough, but I couldn't even find any infection (EWWWW) (PUS!) (HAHAHA words are gross), so I kind of gave up.  We put some neosporin on that bitch and a band-aid, and hoped for the best.

AND THEN, someone told me about drawing salve, which is something I had never heard of before, and you have to ask for it at the pharmacy at Walgreen's, but it is an over-the-counter medicine of some sort.

Looks like tar and stinks like balls, but hey.

So we smacked some of that on his foot, and I went ahead and did some surgery on one of my own toenails.  EWW.  (feet are gross.)

ANYWAY, so even that did not work, and we finally gave in and he went to the doctor.

Turns out, it was a plantar wart.  Ever seen one?  No?  Here you go:
That is not Beanie's foot, but that's pretty much EXACTLY what it looks like.

So the doctor burned it off or froze it off or whatever you say when you are talking about that dry ice freezation thingee they do, and it was better for a couple of days.  Unfortunately, and this is somewhat to be expected, it's not all better.  So Beanie is back at the doc's right this very moment, getting it re-burned/froze.

If this doesn't work, they have to cut it all out.  I am NOT KIDDING YOU.

Dude, don't google that.

I'll let you know.  In the meantime, my gift to you this holiday season is drawing salve.  Because, holy shit did that clear up my toenail problem in like fifteen minutes.  For real.

Not really, but definitely within two days.  And that bitch was hurting.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Girlfriend to John Cusack. As per usual.

Ran a race this weekend.  It was a 5K, and I felt NOT GOOD about it, but mostly I got really asthma-y and wheezy and stuff.  I finished, though, so who cares, really.  AND everybody else that I knew either did just a 1 mile, or else they just stood around looking smug in their track suits.

I am a badass.

In other news, I guess I can tell you all that things progress, or they don't, and the only thing is this.  Do NOT tell someone they are "strong."  That is just confusing.  Either people are fooled into thinking I'm rocking this whole new world, or else I am a weenie when I lose my shit and cry and stuff. 

Strong is not what I need to hear.

You know what does help?

"Fucking courageous as balls."

"A brave little shit."

So feel free to call me either of those things, because I do think that those things apply.

In other news, once upon a time, I used to refer to John Cusack as "my boyfriend, John Cusack," so much so that I once got Valentine's Day flowers delivered to my work, signed from, "your boyfriend, John Cusack."  (that was a pretty amazing day.)

I'm thinking of taking him back.  I'll always love Lloyd Dobbler, anyway.

So, yeah... life goes on...

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Ring girl

You are not going to believe this, but... I used to LOVE to watch boxing.  For real.  I think I still love the sport, although I don't know if it still comes on on Tuesday nigths on USA. 

Anyway, I loved the boxing.  I loved Oscar de la Hoya, and Evander Holyfield.  I loved, loved, loved boxing.  Boxing was amazing.  This was back in the day when Evander had his whole ear, I'm saying.

(and yes, this largely stemmed from a boyfriend I had who was into boxing.)

Anyway, said boy and I decided to do this massive road trip one summer, a trip to New York and back (to North Carolina), and we both saved up $1,000, so we had the means.  And I had wheels, so...  it was on.

Our trip first took us to Easton, New Jersey, to scope out Larry Holmes.

Larry Holmes' brother is a bad-ass, nice mother fucker.  Just saying.  And he has a gym, outside of which, I locked BOTH sets of keys in my car.  We never did catch up with Larry.

Next, we went on to Philadelphia.  We got off at whatever exit made us happy, gracing us with a scenic tour of Philly's Germantown which was rather run down, but I totally fucking LOVED it.  And then we saw this:

(it was not for sale at the time, to my knowledge.)

SWEET.  We did not get the chance to meet Joe, but it was awesome to be that close, really.  We proceeded to run up the stairs and hang out with Rocky's statue, and do the cheesy tourist thing, and then we proceeded on our way.

Bottom line is, I was this close to greatness, in a way I won't be again. 

Go rest high, Smokin' Joe.

Friday, November 4, 2011


THAT IS ALL.  I'll be done for the weekend, now.  My girl is coming to town.  <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Infrequent Updater (My bad.)

So.  You know what you don't really do?

Blog about separating from your Husband.  You just don't. 

He lives somewhere else, now.  The boys and I still live at home, at our house, and it's nice.  It's safe, it's clean.  It feels... normal.  Like, different, but normal, and still okay.  Different okay.  He says he is making progress on what ails him.  I am too.  But that's different, too.  I didn't even know that anything ailed me before.


You know what you do instead?  You do this.



Say whatever you want, this is way, way, way more meaningful to me than the game.  I have not seen Janie since, you know, TWO EASTERS AGO, so it's super awesome that she's coming, and coming she is.  She will be here on Saturday, and I cannot freaking WAIT!  BOOM.  I love me some Janie.

(In case you are new, and/or unaware, Janie is my hetero life partner, whom I met when I was 12, whom I love more than any other female on Earth - this is seriously true - and with whom I would live if she wasn't a much neater person who would eventually get tired of my sloppiness and make me move out, and probably be mad at me, and if there's one thing I can't take, it's Janie being mad at me, so I guess I will just stay in my own house.  All that being said, I never did tell her about my plans to move in with her.) (so don't you all run off and tell her.  Although I do have my own room at her house, anyway.)

So she's coming and we are going to drink drink drink, spend time together, drink, and have a ball.  Phew.  By the time she leaves, I plan to have drunk enough carbs to work myself through next week's 5K!


I'm joining a running club.  They said it's okay that I'm a slow fattie.  We'll see if they mean it.  It's trail runs, which I LOVE LOVE LOVE so maybe that will be fun.  It doesn't matter, at any rate.  The race locations are about a mile and a half from home, so I could run there, run the race, run back, and hit my 5 mile marker, which, you know, I am aiming for this weekend.  The races they sponsor are 2 miles, which is not going to get me where I need to be in terms of distance for THE LOUISIANA MARATHON (or half marathon), but it's something to kick-start my motivation...  I love running.  Running soothes my soul.  My shoes, my beautiful shoes... are worn out, which is my absolute, total delight. :)


Have I mentioned that I sing with a band?  I do.  A corny little ensemble of Sarah and four dudes, and sometimes a teenage girl or two.  Last weekend, we sang at the church's Trunk or Treat thingeemadiggy, and it was fun.  UNTIL, my brother showed up to drop off doodlebug and, in doing so, got to witness me rocking out on a cheesy electric piano to the worlds MOST CHEESE FILLED RENDITION OF GHOSTBUSTERS.  You want to know what's embarrassing?  Getting caught by one of your coolest people doing what is perhaps the least cool thing you have ever done.

Although my friend Melissa one time referred to her daughter's leotard, you know, for acrobatics class at gymnatics, to all the cool moms who have this lingo, and Mel, she said, "tard."  For real.  All the other moms call it a "leo." 

Moms can be SUCH bitches.  Including me, this story still makes me laugh.

Anyway, so that's what is new. Have a happy Wednesday, mom-bitches and anybody else.