Words I routinely misspell when typing that I can otherwise spell correctly

Competing (competiting)
Birthday (Brithday)

I'm sure I'll be adding to this list, but these are the two that are haunting me at the moment. And Brithday gets me every damn day on facebook. My left index finger must be extra fast. Being a speedy and eager worker is usually rewarded, but not when you are a single finger working in a team sport like typing. There is no "I" in team, Pointer. NO I.


Word I misspell but it makes me laugh so it's OK:

Results (reslut, meaning "to slut again." Obviously.)

What can't you spell when typing quickly?

*******************

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I'm such an awesome mom

Good moms get all their kids' school supplies weeks before school starts so that they can send everything in on the first day.

Great moms drive to Walgreens at 9pm the night before the first day of school when they realize that they bought folders WITH prongs instead of folders WITHOUT prongs, so that they can send the right school supplies on the first day.

At least, that's how I see it.

PS. I bought myself some Zotz while I was there, scrounging to find the last yellow folder, so I'm all good.

This cord annoys me. It keeps showing up on the table, on the floor, and so on. I keep putting it away and then it creeps out again. (OK, it has only happened twice but I am calling that a pattern.)

The weird thing is that I don't even know what it is for. Some kind of audio-visual cable. Totally unused by us.

Poltergeist!

First world problems...

Today I realized that I've developed a jawbreaker obsession. The problem is that I am now out of jawbreakers. Tragic.

(The red ones are the best.)

The art of umbrella-ing

I need to take lessons in the art of using an umbrella while getting into a car. I'm good up until the moment I must close the umbrella. Then I become a wet mess as I fold it up while sliding in the car. Plus, I have to put my giant, dripping golf umbrella into the car as well. Where do I put it while hurrying to close the door? The passenger side is the only option, so now it looks like someone went surfing over there. I'm 100% sure the inside of my car is significantly wetter simply because I used an umbrella.

My hair still looks good though. Kinda.

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Search Amazon.com for school supplies

Baseball math

A professional baseball game for a big baseball fan = Heaven

A professional baseball game for someone who doesn't care about baseball = Purgatory

A professional baseball game for someone who has to also care for a four-year-old non-baseball-loving child at that baseball game = Hell

(It wasn't really that bad, but I sure made a lot of trips up and down the stairs for bathroom trips, lunch, and ketchup for her pizza. That's right. FOR HER PIZZA.)

Search Amazon.com for back to school supplies.

If you need to get an incurable disease, I recommend that you choose one that doesn’t involve your excretory or reproductive organs.

I’m naked from the waist down in front of strangers WAY too often these days. Can you conduct a reasonable and pleasant conversation while someone you just met has her fingers all up in your business? I can. I’m freaking GIFTED.

At this point, I’m wearing my nice underwear ALL OF THE TIME because I never know when some doctor, nurse, or therapist is going to ask me to drop trow. Even the Acupuncturist has to get a little personal. At this point, if some random person on the street stopped me and told me to undress from the waist down and put a gown on so it opens in the back, I’d probably do it. And then I’d wonder why people were honking.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Start here!

 Search Amazon.com for music, computers, etc.

SPIDER!

A giant SPIDER is hiding in my bedroom (specifically, in my dresser) and I'm already making plans to sleep on the couch tonight. It's true that there could be a giant spider lurking near my couch too, but a spider you know is worse than a spider you don't know.

It's agoraphobia logic.

(What the hell?--->)

You won't like me when I'm angry

Today at my new physical therapist's office, I had to sign a waiver that explained that a variety of treatments may be used to help reduce the painful flare-ups of Interstitial Cystitis, including vaginal weights. That's right; vaginal weights. It's so awesome to have a bladder disease.

Soon I'll be able to crush you with my strengthened lady parts. You should start running now.

Don't know about Interstitial Cystitis? Read "I fail at peeing"

(This disease sucks giant donkey butt--------->)

It's good to be home!

Perhaps the most important thing I learned on my recent vacation is that my Papillon doesn’t like to poop away from home.

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Suicide squirrels

If I could have one day where driving somewhere didn't involve me playing chicken with a squirrel, that would be great. I realize that some days the shock of the experience is my only cardiovascular exercise, but still. STILL.

Read This is Why You Shouldn't Dye Your Hair at Home.

(There's squirrel repellent? Wonder if I could attach it to the front of my car?-->)

This is why you shouldn't dye your hair at home.

Anybody see a problem with this?

Apparently if you dye your hair every two months, you are entirely screwed. And if you dye your hair every "Oh my gosh, look at my roots! Let's see if I can get the kids in bed and then get the dye on my hair to sit while I clean house naked because that dye stains the hell out of your clothes and now I have a perfectly good pair of undies with a completely unacceptable brown stain but wait you're not supposed to wash your first but if I don't I'll go around all day looking like a total greaseball so I had better just do it anyway," well, then you should just give it up now. Grey hair is considered distinguished, right?

Fighting evil one dish at a time

My superpower is fitting one more thing in the dishwasher.

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I fail at peeing

If you follow this blog, you might remember my in depth discussion of my urinary woes, culminating in a torture session procedure designed to widen my urethra. (If you have a strong constitution, you can read about my experiences here and here.) The hope was that I had an easily (ha!) treatable problem rather than a horrible chronic bladder pain disease. Unfortunately, after further visits with two doctors, the results are in and I am indeed an Interstitial Cystitis* sufferer. If you are keeping track, this means that out of the four people in my immediate family, three of us have rare diseases/afflictions/syndromes (The Girl has a Chiari Malformation and The Boy has Tourette’s Syndrome Plus and is on the autism spectrum). I suspect that Husband should get out now before it’s too late. Except then he’d be leaving me with all this mess and I’d be pretty pissed about that, so I think he’s stuck. Maybe he should wear a surgical mask or something.

At my last urology appointment, I had the pleasure of peeing into a device that measures both urine output and force of flow. Apparently I am mildly retarded in the “force” department, falling one standard deviation below the mean (who knew that there was an average pee force rating?). But then the nurse used a sonogram-type of machine to measure how much urine remained in my bladder after I’m finished peeing. (I retroactively hate every nurse that has ever catheterized me for this same purpose. Bitches, all of you!) The doctor informed me that I retain 120ccs of urine (4 ounces) every time I finish going (that’s half a cup, which seems kind of crazy, right?). I asked him, “How much does a normal person retain?” The doctor replied, “Well, I just did this test on a 92-year-old man and he had 8ccs left.” The doctor seemed to find this very funny. He’s that kind of guy.

So, that’s it. I officially fail at peeing.

I’ve been urination-impaired for years. Long ago when I had a similar test (with a catheter, BITCH), the nurse actually said to me, “Did you finish peeing?” Dumbfounded by this question, I said, “You mean just now when you sent me in the bathroom to pee?” “Yes,” she said irritably. “Did you finish peeing?” Of course I answered “Yes,” but internally I was thinking, “When does anyone EVER not finish peeing on purpose? Who thinks, ‘Wow, I totally love this bathroom, let me make sure that I have to come back her in another ½ hour?’ WHO DOESN’T FINISH PEEING TO THE BEST OF THEIR ABILITY? Did she think I did a bunch of Kegel exercises so I could stop mid-stream and save up some just so she’d feel useful with her instrument of torture catheter? Honestly.”

Whew. I feel better now.

Anyway, my treatment consists of pain medication (currently limited to OTC painkillers and prescription Pyridium, which makes my pee a lovely shade of orange while it apparently damages my production of red blood cells), physical therapy (which will hopefully help in the long run), and a very restricted diet (which I have now restricted even further as I attempt to isolate particular irritants). I’m planning on starting acupuncture soon, which I think automatically ups my “cool” quotient by 50 points. I suspect I may be gluten-intolerant or I have some wonky food problems** (the almond milk I bought to use while I go dairy-free seems to actually be something I can’t handle at all, how’s that for ridiculous?). Right now I’m eating all kinds of unfamiliar foods and I’m still in a lot of pain, but I’ve lost some weight so I guess the whole thing is working out well. Or maybe not. It’s hard to tell.

So far, it’s raining pretty hard on me and my family in 2011. My grandmother died, my mom’s dog died unexpectedly, I’ve been in pain, tired, and out-of-sorts since February, and my son has had his usual drama of tics and attention problems. And that’s just in the health department; that doesn’t count the car repairs and other stressors. But damn it, hand me an umbrella, and I’ll grit my teeth and laugh at the rain.

*What's Interstitial Cystitis? Click here for the Wikipedia entry.

**This reduces my cool points by a bunch, doesn’t it?

20% less plastic

My bottles of water, which I buy only because I can't find a reusable bottle this same size and shape*, have changed. The lids are about half the size, and the company is super proud of it.

This super special half-lid design and some other modifications mean this bottle has 20% less plastic than the company's previous bottle. This is great, except it now has 50% less of the ability to keep my water inside the bottle. Once opened, reapplying the lid takes talent and sticking your tongue out just right. If you fail in your attempt to fully close the bottle, the new micro-lid will LOOK like it's going to hold your water inside, but unless you hold it perfectly upright, you will expose the lid's failure to, well, be a functioning lid. This has resulted in the inside of my purse getting wet twice before I got smart about it and started double checking. This is an annoyance I just don't need.

Get your crap together, bottle makers. Maybe try 10% less plastic first until you work out the kinks.


(Too big, but probably leak-free------->)





*This matters because they fit in my backpack purse, not because I'm all hung up on this sort of thing. For reals.

Why can't I walk around with this phone?

The Girl can not understand the concept of a corded phone. This afternoon, despite repeated warnings that she could not walk around her gram's house while talking on that phone, she still attempted to do so. I'm thinking that if I tried to teach her about party lines, her head would explode.

Wait until I tell her how we used to have to get up to change the TV channel....

(Ancient artifact-------------------------->)

You are too stupid to work electronics

Every time I press print and get an "output tray closed" message I feel like my computer is really saying, "You're an idiot."

It's too early in the morning for smug electronic devices.



(I want one of these. I'm sure it'll be nice to me. Right? ---->)

There's not room for two of us

One of the lifeguards at my Y is named "Brenna." I'm working on getting her fired because I'm the only "Brenna" I know and I'd like to keep it that way.

(Of course-------------------------------------->)

Parental Non Sequitur

"This is my second-to-last song so please leave the blinds alone."

I swear it made sense in context.


(New Paramore song---------->)

Not an iPhone

I just realized that when I email from my phone, you can't tell that I'm emailing from my phone. There's no "Sent from my Samsung Intercept" mention at the bottom of my messages. Without that, how are people supposed to know that I'm so dedicated to my work that I email back from Chick-Fil-A's play area?

My phone is so humble.