THE ABSOLUTE GALL

As you know, I had weight loss surgery in December of 2021. It wasn't a particularly radical one or anything, having my stomach size reduced by 80% notwithstanding, but I chose to have the kind I did because of the low instances of recurring, unpleasant side effects. At most I lost about 90 pounds, then put a few back on (feck), but other than that the whole process has been fairly uneventful.  

However, there was one possible side effect that I was warned about from the beginning, and it was that my gallbladder might go bad. I didn't know what they meant, medically, by "going bad" but at my periodic appointments with the surgeon, I was told that if I had any problems with it to call them right away.  "Sure thing" I thought! "How will I know if it's going bad?" I also thought. Turns out it's fairly easy to know. 

Thankfully, I didn't get into a situation where I was being rushed into the emergency room or anything like that, but when the twinges began in earnest, I got an appointment. They sent me to have an ultrasound, and a hida scan, which is where I was injected with radioactive tracer and parked under something that looked like a time machine and left for an hour and a half. When it was done, I was asked by Austin, the radiologist who looked like he was still in high school but who has a 4 year old, if I had any issues. There was a minor twinge, I said. Tell your doctor, he said. So, I did.

Apparently, if you feel anything at all during the hida scan, that means you probably have trouble. You can live with the trouble and let it get worse, or you can have the gall bladder taken out. I opted to have it taken out so that I didn't have to feel like whoever it is who has my voodoo doll (I know who it is!) was constantly sticking a pin into my side. What I didn't realize was that the doctor was going to want to do it the next day. He had a graduation to go to over the weekend, after all, and didn't want to miss it. 

I was weirdly ok with that, because I didn't have time to get nervous about anything, and so the next morning I went to the surgery center and had that sucker ripped out. It wasn't a bad surgery, it didn't take a long time, and the worst part was the CO2 gas that they inflated by abdomen with hurting like a MFKR afterwards. Steve gave me my phone while I was still pretty high from the anesthesia, and I answered some texts, so it was fun reading those later. One of my friends sent me some funny memes that made me laugh, and that hurt, but otherwise, I went home just a couple of hours later.

The doctor told me that some people are up fixing dinner later the day of the surgery, and some of them "complain for the next six weeks" and I was determined to be the former. I did fix dinner that night, although I didn't eat it. Dude, my side HURT. It felt like I'd been shot by a harpoon. Also, he said I had a rogue gallstone lodged in an organ or tube or something that would need a second procedure to remove and had me set up for that. However, the second doc had me get an MRI the next day, which didn't show anything concerning, and that procedure was cancelled, thank goodness. The description of that second procedure sounded 100 times worse than the surgery I'd just had, so thank you MRI gods! The surgery was on a Wednesday, and I did take one day off of work, and then had the weekend. I went to a soccer game that Saturday, which was really stupid because I felt like I was being stabbed, but by Monday I was more or less ok. It still hurt and I was so very tired, but I was ok. No one at work would let me do anything, though. I'm not supposed to lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous until my follow up appointment. Even the CEO basically took something out of my hands and did it for me when she saw me about to do something she didn't think I should have. I've realized that I don't like people doing work I should be doing, and I'm not at all good at asking for help, so I'm glad these people are looking out for me.  

I was in quite a bit of pain for about a week, and then I laughed and something in my side popped and then didn't hurt as much. I don't know if that's good or bad, but at least I didn't have to take pain meds after that! The worst part, post-surgery, is learning what I can and can't eat anymore. Some things do nothing; other things feel like lava racing through my body. I hear that gets better. Maybe? God, I hope so.

Now for my next trick, I have to go see a cardiologist. During my ultrasound, they found I have slight pericardial effusion, or fluid around my heart. Thankfully it isn't that bad, but it was suggested that I get it looked at to make sure. Part of me wants to not find out about it, but the rational side knows I need to. So, I'm going to have to get the courage to call that guy. I will. One day. Maybe. 

So that's the most exciting thing that's happened to me in about a year. I hope whatever is going on with you is better than that and doesn't require any incisions!

UPDATE

Hello. 

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

I didn’t feel like writing here for a long time. In fact, I almost shuttered the whole thing. Something stopped me, though.

Things got bad. Very bad. Maybe the worst they’ve ever been for me so far, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. But I did. Granted, I’m a bit battle scarred, but still here.

The divorce didn’t happen. I genuinely thought it would. I was terrified. I told people. I started making plans and trying to figure out what I was going to do, but ultimately, we didn’t do it. It hasn’t been easy, and things are still a bit raw in spots, but we came out on the other side.

I was too afraid to say anything just in case. I still am, a little. But I decided that maybe someone might want to know.

Lots of things have changed in the past year. I’ve lost people who meant the world to me, and I’ve had to learn to adjust, but I’m ok for now.

Things are still strange, but I’m grateful for what I have. We’ll see what happens.

I hope you’re well, too.

SO...

Well, I don't like to write this, but to make it seem real, I'm going to.

Steve is divorcing me. He told me last Thursday.

I didn't want this, and for all intents and purposes, I didn't think it would actually happen. I thought things would get better, or at least we'd work on our problems. In fact, I thought we'd been doing better for the last couple of months. That is because I am a trusting, naive fool.

I am not worth being forgiven. I am to be thrown away.

No idea on the timeline, or where I'll live, or how I'll mentally deal with it, but those are all things I'll consider later. 

There are a million things I will have to think to do, but I'm not in the right frame of mind to think of anything. Right now I'm having to make myself do one thing at a time just to get through the days.

I can't eat, I have to drug myself to sleep, and my life is now a giant crater where a bomb has gone off and nothing has survived. I am barely hanging on to my sanity.

So, while everyone else gets to go and live their best life, mine has been broken beyond repair. All over a mistake so stupid that I can't even believe I was idiotic enough to make in the first place.

I don't know how I'm going to survive.

HUH...WEIRD

If you don't mind, I'm going to ignore everything else in my life for a second to tell you a weird thing that happened the other night.

I was asleep, but not completely asleep, and my phone rang. I looked at the clock and immediately panicked, because it was 12:30 AM, which (in my head) usually means that someone is dead and I'm getting a call about it. I jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen to grab my phone, and the ringing stopped. The screen said "No Caller ID" and no one left a message.

Well, ok then. Maybe a spam call? Maybe a wrong number? Mabe a glitch? Eh.

But still...it scared the crap out of me! I don't have friends I chat with anymore. No one calls me but my mom! I was asleep-ish and my phone rang at a scary hour! So I had to stand there staring at my phone for a second until my adrenaline rush passed.

Then the phone rang again while I was holding it. Still "No Caller ID" on the screen. Of course, I answered it, just in case it really was an emergency, and I could hear someone on the other end. They wouldn't say anything! I just kept saying "Hello?!" over and over, but they never talked, I just heard rustling and movement.

I didn't find out until the next day that someone has to purposefully conceal their number to get a "No Caller ID" message on the display. Whether or not the person meant to call me and not someone in a kinder time zone is the real question.

Maybe it was nothing, and the call wasn't meant for me. Occam's razor and all of that.

But am I wrong to think that is weird? Not, you know, super weird, but still weird. Anyway, if someone wants to call me and not say anything when I answer, I'm ok with that. They can even be obscene if they want, because I can just hang up or laugh (depending on the level of obscene.) I just don't want them to do it in the middle of the night and scare me into thinking someone in my family has been killed. Capiche?  

THERE ARE PROTOCOLS. Geez.

NOPE

Nope. I was wrong. 

Back to square one.

I’m so tired.

FYI

Things are currently…ok. 

Not perfect, not awesome, but a bit better. Working on it, at least.

It’s been a long, fecking few months, though. 

We’ll see how it goes.

I’m so damn tired.

 Have you ever just given up? I think I’m there. I don’t want to be there, but I don’t have a choice.

Again, sorry to be cryptic, but it’s still not my story to tell.

I made some mistakes that made things bad. Everything I try to do to help makes things worse. It’s like I’m trying to stop a tsunami with a net.

Everything is black. There isn’t any hope and I am drowning. This is just life now. I’m not being melodramatic.

I’m not sure prayers work anymore, but if you have a few lying around you don’t need, I could use one.

SIGH

 Everything in my life is spinning out of my control right now and I don’t know what to do about any of it.

I am so completely overwhelmed. Like, really, really.

Sorry to be cryptic, I know that’s annoying. Most of it isn’t actually my story to tell, but I'm getting pulled along in the wake and I’m beginning to feel a bit desperate.

I’m not looking for pity, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to, so I’m telling whoever still reads this thing.

(As a thank you for reading this, kind stranger, I hope my discomfort means the universe is too busy with me to make things difficult for you. Hope it’s great, whatever you’re doing. Balance and all that. Good luck with that thing.)

 Y’all…

I’m straight up not having a good time anymore.

TWO THINGS

 1) A couple of entries ago, when I was writing about the Chattanooga Ironman thing, I used the phrase “personal PR.” It has since occurred to me that “PR” means personal record, so I basically said personal personal record. I apologize for the mistake and promise to try and wordsmith better in the future!

I still hope the perv got his shoe clips stuck, though.

2) Speaking of dreams: two nights ago I had a dream about a friend I haven’t seen in years and years. I was so excited to see them, but in my dream they wouldn’t talk to me. It bothered me in my dream, and I was even upset about it when I woke up! Last night the same friend showed up in my dream again, and this time they tried talking to me, but I shook my head and ran away.

At this point I’m so confused about who is snubbing whom that I’m tempted to call and interrupt their life just to see which one of us hangs up first. “Sorry, I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I have been dreaming about you and I need to clear something’s up…”

A QUICKY

I had the mother of all stress dreams.

I'm not going to give a blow-by-blow, but you know how sometimes you have a dream about going back to school and having to take a test you didn't study for and things like that? It was like that, but it wasn't just one thing, it was all the things.

The Gist: I went on vacation with Steve and some other people, but when we got to the resort, we found out that most of the staff were not there because of a scheduling snafu. Since I wanted everyone else to have a good time, I went to the manager and said if he told me what I could do, I'd work for the week to help fill in the gaps in staffing.

Everything went wrong. I couldn't get a uniform right away. No one would tell me what to do or how to do what I needed to do. I couldn't have fun with the people I had gone on vacation with, but I couldn't be mad because I'd volunteered to work! I didn't know how to be a waitress and I was afraid the rich, mean people would yell at me. Then the resort flooded, like...furniture floating and water to our knees flooded. Apparently, what pushed the whole dream over the edge was when I went into the bathroom to pull my hair back so it wouldn't be in the way, I saw that it had started falling out. I woke up in a panic over that.

That dream was so vivid and real that I still expect to look in a mirror and see that I've gone bald.

What could cause a dream like that? Geez.

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) You had to be there, but still:

I was having lunch with Steve on Monday and I said "Do you know what I'm mad about today? I'm mad that there are colors that I'll never see." I'm 100% serious about that.

I had been watching a YouTube video about light wavelengths that produce colors that the human eye can't detect because we don't possess the right kind of hardware for that, as we only have 3 types of visual cone cells. There are birds and bugs that can see them, but humans can't. However, there ARE some humans who have a mutation that gives them four types of visual cone cells, and so they can see a layer of colors that the rest of us can't and that pisses me off so much I can't even explain. I want 4 cones! I want to see the hidden colors!

Now, I didn't expect that Steve cared much about my number of cone cells, and he just looked at me like I was kind of crazy. That's fair. It's a weird thing to be mad about. So, knowing how way leads on to way, we moved on to another topic of conversation and I forgot I mentioned it.

Fast forward to the end of the day and we were getting ready to go to sleep. I looked up at the Alexa Dot we have in the bedroom, and I asked it "Alexa, what is your favorite color?" because I like to ask her personal questions sometimes to see what she's programmed to say (and also so she remembers that I was nice to her in case she goes rogue.) She answered "My favorite color is ultraviolet. It glows with everything!" and Steve looked over at me and said, "And you'll never see it with your THREE CONES!"

I swear, he said it with such glee and he laughed so hard that I'm almost positive that he had been holding on to that just on the off chance that he would one day get to use it! It was both the meanest and funniest thing I'd heard in a long time, and I think I laughed for 15 minutes. So, if I ever question if Steve is paying attention to me, I'll have to remember that he is, even if it's only to take the piss later on. Heehee.

2) Our company had a work outing to a baseball game a few nights ago. I'm not the biggest fan of baseball, but it was fun to sit and make jokes and people watch. One of the things our local team seems to be proficient at is foul balls. I'm not judging, as I can't personally play the game, but it seems like lots of them tend to go into the stands. The kids that are there are crazy about catching them, and/or getting them from whoever does catch them. There is apparently an unspoken rule that if a grown up catches a ball, they've got to give it to a kid. (One hopes that the adult doesn't mind this, I guess.)

So, Anthony (Yes, he was invited. Shut up.) and I were sitting a couple of rows behind this group of young 20 somethings who were really into the game. I guess they were like the cool kids, maybe? It's hard to explain. Anyway, that group was really into the game and they were having a blast, and a foul ball comes flying over our way. One of the guys gets the ball and he throws it to a kid. Standard business.  A couple of innings later, another foul ball comes our way and lands in a group of kids standing by the outfield fence. This one kid (a bit older than the others) grabbed it, and he was so excited! Then he walked over and gave it to the older guy who gave up his ball earlier. It was so cute. I'd never seen a kid do that before. So the turntables.

It was freaking heartwarming.

3) Ooooh, y'all, I took a melatonin supplement last night because I couldn't sleep. I'd actually fallen asleep earlier, woken up, and couldn't go back to sleep no matter what I tried. I could have gotten up, and been exhausted and miserable for the rest of the day. I could have taken one of my anxiety pills, but that is usually a last resort since I don't like to take them unless I really need them. So I grabbed the melatonin gummies. I feel asleep, alright. I fell asleep, had ridiculous more-vivid-than-usual dreams, and woke up feeling like my body was awake, but my brain was at the dry cleaners. I don't know how I'm going to function at work today, but I'm really hoping my mind gets significantly less sticky as the day goes on, or I'm going to have to make a nest out of classified files and sleep for another couple of hours.

4) I know this sounds morbid, but I've been reading through The Charley Project files. I originally learned about it through a true crime YouTube channel I was using as background noise one day, and I was curious to see what it was all about. The Charley Project is a database of cold case missing persons files. It has a picture of them, sometimes a bit about their life, and as much as the writer knows about the day they disappeared and what was going on. It's oddly fascinating, but also so terribly sad. I originally started reading it out of morbid curiosity, but I've found myself feeling like I need to read as many of the stories as possible so that they aren't forgotten about. You know that saying about how people aren't really gone as long as someone is thinking about them? I'm reading them because I don't want them to be gone completely.

They have cases listed from as far back as 1910, up until about a year ago, I think. Currently, I'm only to the 1970s, and man, did the cases multiply then! From the 1910s-1960s the officials seemed to think that a lot of people just got spontaneous amnesia and wondered away. Granted, they didn't know about how rare true amnesia actually is back then, so I'll give them a pass. Also, quite a few of the cases can be (rationally) attributed to "Husband Kills Wife and Kids" even if they didn't have enough proof to convict them. In the 70s, I'm pretty sure the two biggest causes of death were hitchhiking and Ted Bundy. It's all so terribly sad. It's made me wish I had the super-hero power to know where lost people could be found, even if they weren't alive anymore. 

Probably not great for my psyche to dwell on this stuff, but I wish they (or information about them) could be found! 

THE NOOG: MAY 2023

Completely out of character for us as of late, we went on a quick overnight trip to Chattanooga.

It was my fault.

As most of you might know, Steve doesn't like to travel because he travels so much for work now (plus we have wildly different ideas about where we'd go, and if he's bored he makes it obvious) so we rarely go on vacations anymore. I love to travel, but I can't go alone because the world sucks and I don't feel safe doing it. So, when Steve told me he had a band concert in Chattanooga (one he does every year, but I never attend because of reasons that are my business) I asked if he wanted me to go with him. Mainly, I wanted to get out of our house for a while, and I thought this would be a good chance to do so. The band concert would be incidental! He was surprised, I think.

We also invited Anthony, because he's family, and he said that he couldn't make it as early as we were going (he teaches and had an early class that day) but that he would meet us there that afternoon and we could have dinner and do some stuff! From there we made dinner reservations and planned to attend an event at the Chattanooga Zoo - Spirits in the Wild -where you can drink, eat, and be around animals! 

Once I realized that the event ran until 9, I talked Steve into getting a hotel room for us so that we didn't have to drive back so late, especially if we would be having cocktails at this event. I was really kind of surprised when he agreed to do it!  We had a little bit of a problem getting a room because some big events were happening in Chattanooga that weekend, so we had to get a place just a smidge out of town, but it wasn't too far away.

Unfortunately, the actual reason for the trip got cancelled. His concert was called because there was supposed to be rain, but we'd already bought tickets to the zoo thing and had the dinner and hotel reservations, and it was within 24 hours of all of it before we knew about the cancellation, so we decided to go anyways. I felt really bad. I knew Steve would have rather not gone, but he also didn't want to lose the money we'd already spent. Eh, well, carpe diem, I guess. Heehee.

So we left late on Saturday morning and made it into Chattanooga by about 10:00 AM. It was so busy! The Chattanooga Ironman triathlon was scheduled for that weekend, and streets were blocked off and people in spandex were everywhere with their fancy, flat bikes! We finally found a place to park and got out to walk around. I'm not unfamiliar with the Ironman event (I have a cousin who coaches the people who do them) but I had no idea the scale of the thing. There was a whole village of tents set up for the athletes and a big shop where you can buy merch. Athletes were testing out the route on bikes and running, and there was a whole parking lot full of bikes and bags. It was a bit overwhelming. I really just don't "get" it though. Don't get me wrong, I have a deep awe and respect for people who can do that sort of thing and I know it takes months of training and discipline, but I don't understand why they want to do it. It seems like an incredibly brutal thing to put yourself though. Of course, I say this as someone who almost died trying to run a 5k on a hot day, so maybe I don't understand because my body rejects the very idea of that kind of physical activity! At any rate, despite my confusion with why, mad respect to everyone who participated (except for the one guy who was resting on the sidewalk that tried looking up my skirt. I hope his shoe clips got stuck in the pedals of his fancy bike when he tried to get off and it took him two tries to transfer to the next stage of the race, negatively affecting his personal PR. I also hope the banana he got at the snack tent was bruised.) Perv.

Despite my feeling bad that I got us caught up in all of that and obligated to stay out of town, we actually had a good time, I think. We walked around, ate snacks at a couple of the local places, and shopped a bit. we also stopped and had a couple of midday cocktails (one that didn't affect me at all, but another in a place a couple of hours later that caused me to do some expensive drunk shopping at the Hot Chocolatier. I regret nothing.) 

Anthony got there just in time for our dinner reservations at a place called Tupelo Honey Cafe. the food was fantastic! I picked it blindly when looking for a place to eat because it was close to downtown, but I'd gladly eat there again. I didn't know it was a chain, but you wouldn't really know it!  We left there to go to the zoo, and the rain started pouring down by the time we got there. We got some shitty gift shop ponchos, though, and powered through! That was actually a lot of fun, I thought, even with the rain. You could walk up to any booth or bar and eat and drink as much as you wanted, and you got to see all the different animals! Don't worry, after my afternoon cocktail excitement, I had about 4 sips of the drink they gave me when I walked in and decided that I'd rather be sober thankyouverymuch. 

The highlight of my evening was that I got to feed a giraffe! You could pay 5 dollars and get a hand full of lettuce, and they let you feed a male giraffe named George! I loved him! Anthony took some pictures of me doing it, and despite my face, it was great. George licked me by accident, though. Ah, well, how many people can say they've been licked by a giraffe? 

My face is a whole journey!

We stayed until almost closing, but Anthony had to leave for Huntsville. He wasn't able to stay overnight because A) He couldn't get a room, and B) he had to drive to Memphis the next day to visit his folks, so Steve and I said our goodbyes and headed off to the hotel to sleep!

The next day was very chill. We avoided going downtown because the race was going on, so we drove around a bit and then headed home. It was a short, and enjoyable, little trip! 

ONE THING

 Ok, I know this is random, but it is a thing I’ve only recently become aware of.

You know that song “One Headlight” From 1997? That song gives me creeping anxiety. Like, it’s bad enough that it makes my stomach feel weird. I don’t know what it is, but whenever I hear it, I feel like I’m reliving some kind of mild trauma that I can’t put my finger on.

In fact, it was only after recently hearing that song and realizing how uncomfortable it made me that I also realized there are several songs from around that time, of a similar genre, that make me feel weird and I don’t know why. Granted, that wasn’t the greatest time of my life, but it wasn’t anything I would consider bad enough to get flashbacks from.

Am…am I repressing something? 

EVEN MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

 1) You know, I appreciate people who are being supportive of me since I had weight loss surgery, I really do. However, it's hilarious to me (albeit understandable) that there is so little understanding about how the whole thing worked.

I had someone recently point to an outfit and say "Hey, you should wear something like that!" and it was shorts and a kind short top. Cute enough outfit, but not a thing I'd ever be brave enough to wear. I said as much and they were like "WHY?! You've lost weight, you should be able to wear anything you want now!"

Here's the thing. Yes, I lost 90 pounds, but I lost it fast. When that happens, your body doesn't...react the same way as it would if you lose it over a longer period of time. I had to tell them that I didn't magically start looking like a supermodel when I lost weight. That doesn't compute to a lot of people. Basically, I had to explain that, from mid torso down, it looks like I opened my eyes when the Ark of the Covenant was opened. Heehee! 

2) Last week I went to Dismals Canyon! It's funny to me that I've heard about that place, heard that it is gorgeous and amazing and has freaking GLOW WORMS, and I've never made more of an attempt to go there. Anthony, who is a dedicated hiker and a member of the Land Trust in Huntsville, ended up reading about it and got proactive about getting tickets to the night hike. Apparently, it's like trying to win an old school radio contest to get those, but we got spots for the 8:45 tour.

We actually went up much earlier to hike the 1.5 mile trail in the canyon, and it was gorgeous. Even though there was a prepared trail down to the canyon floor, the walk down wasn't the easiest one to traverse after the wooden stairs stopped, just because of the rocks and stuff, but once you got down there it was fine. It was also one of the prettiest places I've ever seen in Alabama. Big walls of water worn sandstone tower above your head, and a stream runs through the whole thing. This link explains it better than I can, plus it has pictures! The trees and plants are gorgeous, and it was fun to wonder around down there looking at the cool rocks and stuff. I really like rocks! 

Maybe the only thing that wasn't so fun was one spot where you have to cross the stream. There were stepping stones placed out there, but one of them had washed away, making it very difficult to reach the next one from the bank. We stood there trying to figure out what to do for a long time, and our individual choices speak volumes about our characters, I think. Anthony decided that he was going to roll up his pants and take off his shoes and socks to wade across. Steve watched him do that, and decided that he'd do the same. Me? I was too lazy to re-lace my hiking boots, so I just walked across without taking them off! One boot filled with water and made one whole foot wet and cold, which sucked, but I made my choice! Heehee. (Don't worry, when we left to get dinner before our night hike, I stopped by Wal-Mart and got another pair of socks!)

The visit at night was amazing. I really mean that. It was such a cool experience, and not something everyone gets a chance to do. It wasn't easy walking those stairs and trails in the dark, but being able to go through those stone walls with the tiny sparks of blue light all over them was like walking though banks of stars.  I wish I could explain it better. The trail guide said that the Discovery Channel had been out to film the Dismalites (glow worm things) and it's supposed to air sometime this year, I think? I can't wait to see it! 

I will say, though, that as cool as it was to see the Dismalites, I think I liked the hike during the day better. It was so beautiful, and I'm so glad I got to go and visit! 

3) I gave blood! I was very scared to do it, but I was determined! Our company sponsored a blood drive, and I promised myself that I'd go through with it if at all possible. I knew you had to pass a preliminary screening, and because of the way I eat, I wasn't sure that I'd qualify, so I woke up at 1:30 AM and ate cheese, took my multi-vitamin, had a protein drink, and started drinking water like crazy. Then I fell asleep, and woke up two hours later and drank more water (I'm in a constant state of near dehydration, usually) and so by the time my 9:00 appointment rolled around, I was hydrated, full of iron and vitamins, and still very scared. They were so kind, though, and it put me at ease. The only iffy part was when he put the needle in my arm and had to dig around for a moment, but he found the vein! It took me 22 minutes to give a pint of blood, though, which I think is a long time. I also almost fainted a little later, but that was my fault for overexerting while getting something off of a shelf. Now some lucky soul will be walking around with my blood in their body at some point!  

That last part actually kind of weirds me out, but I'm not sorry and I hope I'll be able to do it again!

4) We went to the National Cornbread Festival in South Pittsburg, TN! Since the pandemic closed it down in 2020 and 2021, it's been impossible to get into because of how popular it is. Last year we tried to go, but we couldn't even get to the parking area where we could be bussed in, but this year we found a really, really backwoods (that is not a euphemism, we really drove down a gravel road back in the woods and almost got eaten by a giant dog) way to get into the town! It was fun!  We ate cornbread, shopped at the vendors booths, and I entered a frozen t-shirt contest! I didn't even know what it was, but I volunteered from the audience. Thankfully it didn't have anything to do with nipples like I assumed, and we literally had to unwrap a frozen t-shirt to see who could get it out of the container, unwind it, and put it on first! I didn't win, but I got a free t-shirt out of it! (Looking back, would I still have participated if nipples were involved? Maybe...)

Steve and I also we to the Cullman Strawberry Festival a week later. It was a fairly spur of the moment decision (and Anthony was working, in case you were curious) so we drove down there late in the day. We were too late for any of the events except for some concerts that we had no desire to see, but we walked around, ate some strawberry stuff, and did some shopping at the vendors and the street that was blocked off. It was very chill and we had a good time. It's been a long time since I've been to Cullman proper and it has changed so much! I don't think I'd be able to find my way around to save my life. However, I do think all the updates are great! I bet things stay open past 7:00 now, too. Ha!

BTW, the whole time I was there, the song Watermelon Crawl was running through my head, and it annoyed me because it was about the wrong fruit.

I love small town festivals like these, and I hope I find more of them to go to before the summer is over!

MY VOTE? HAUNTED.

I had a moment of sheer weirdness the other day that I need to talk about. I feel I need to over explain this so I don't sound like a complete creep, so please bear with me.

First off, I need to make it clear that I am a very private bathroom person. I don't like going in groups and I don't like people talking to me through stall doors. All I want to do is do whatever I've got to do and get out. That's just how I am. I also like to let others do whatever they've got to do without bothering them.

Secondly, our company doesn't have its own bathroom. There are public bathrooms out in the hallway that we share with the other office on our floor. As far as the ladies' room goes, it's very rare that two people are in there at the same time but, of course, it occasionally happens. 

I went in there on Monday and headed for one of the stalls and only when I got near it did I notice it was shut, so I course corrected and went into another stall on the opposite side of the room. While I was in there, I realized that other than my own breathing, the room was deathly still and quiet. Now, if you've ever been in a public restroom with another person, usually there is the sound of movement, or they clear their throat, or feet get shuffled. There are signs of life, in other words, so I wondered to myself if the door had just been closed, or if there was actually a person in there. For reasons I still do not understand, I glanced along the floor and noticed that there was indeed feet under the stall, and with my curiosity satiated, I did what I had to do and left. 

Several hours later, I went back in the bathroom and noticed the same stall door was closed. I could see the same shoes were still under that same door and they were still not moving, and the room was again deathly quiet. Now look, I get that people have issues and sometimes camping out in a bathroom stall is a necessity. I'm aware that in those moments a person is vulnerable and doesn't want to be disturbed. I'm more than willing to leave them alone. But I'm not wrong to think that's weird, am I? The same feet under the same stall hours later with no sounds or movement or even rustling of clothes?

So my mind immediately went "Yep, that lady is dead. There is a dead lady in that stall who has died and no one is going to know because no one wants to bother someone while they're using the bathroom." It CONCERNED me, but did I do anything? No, I did not. I have no idea what the etiquette is for that situation. My sense of personal propriety overcame my worry that there was a dead body in the bathroom and so I left. I'd love to say that I did the decent thing and asked if she was ok, but I didn't. I just went back to the office, sat at my desk, and hoped that someone else would go in and, if the lady was indeed dead, they would deal with it. I Twitter crowd sourced some ideas on how to unobtrusively check if the person was alive, and what I got back spanned the spectrum of turning off the light and seeing if the person objected, to blasting an air horn, but I did neither of those things.  I did tell one of my coworkers to go and look, but that was the extent of my actions.

All of this turns out to be fairly anticlimactic in the end, because when my coworker did go to the bathroom later, she said the stall was empty. However, I never saw anyone come out before then and I have a direct line of sight from my desk to the bathroom door, so either the bathroom is haunted, the person in that stall crawled through the drop ceiling to go back to their lair in the walls, or someone went in there and unobtrusively Weekend-At-Bernie'sed the dead lady out of there so that there wouldn't be a fuss. I still don't know, and it has bothered me ever since.

A QUICKY

 Ooof, I had a terrible sleep paralysis nightmare last night.

The dream itself is mostly forgotten, but I know it had to do with cats, me being mostly blind, and the bad lady from the most current season of "Picard" holding me hostage. I think she was holding me hostage because she wanted my cats? I dunno, it didn't make sense.

All I know is that in a weird, half-awake, can't move, terrified and helpless moment of my dream, Steve's sleep breathing broke through to my subconscious and made him a part of my dream and it scared me so badly that I broke my paralysis and was 100% poised to full on assault him with every ounce of strength I had in my body had I not woken up enough mid swing to realize I was not blind and not being held hostage by a cat-loving, shape-shifting, revenge seeking space creature.

Steve really is living on the edge and has no idea.

MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

 1) I got bored the other day and had my nails done. Steve was out doing networking stuff and I didn't want to sit at home alone anymore, so on a whim I went to the same salon that the owner of our company goes to and said "Give me the works!"

Well, not really the works. Just a full set of acrylic nail tips and a gel polish. Heehee.

I don't think I've had fake nails put on since my wedding, or at least close to that long, but lots of women that I work with have such pretty, manicured nails and I have the hands of an offshore oil driller. I covet how put together they always look and figured I'd play along and try to capture some of their glamour.  

I forgot how claustrophobic I get when I'm having beauty stuff done. I literally had to take one of my panic-stopping pills while I was sitting there because having someone working on me and not being able to get away freaked me out. Not that I couldn't have left if I absolutely needed to, but it would have been awkward (and very rude) to run out in the middle of a manicure. 

So I got the things and they were gorgeous, and I loved them and they were so shiny and perfect! I had them painted a color shifting blue/pink/green so that they would go with lots of stuff, and they caught the light and made my hands look so nice!  I felt this way for about 24 hours before I remembered why I don't get acrylic nails done anymore.

I couldn't do shit with my hands. I have to face the facts that I'm usually like an unevolved primate that has to use its claws to dig for grubs and roots. With the fake nails on, I couldn't properly pick things up, write, put on/take off my clothes, open packages, or even scratch an itch. I purposefully got them short and still couldn't do normal everyday things without issues. I knew I was in trouble when I tried to take out my contacts and nearly blinded myself. Also, I forgot that real nails grow out, so the fake ones start looking weird and have a scratchy ridge on the bottom that will drive me crazy. Basically, I'm a basement gremlin who doesn't know how to be a fancy lady.

I kept them on for two weeks, cutting them, shaping them, trying to make them less intrusive, all to no avail. I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to take them off, but it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be! When I had them before, I just soaked them in fingernail polish remover and they eventually peeled off. This time, and I think due to the gel polish (really a kind of resin that hardens with UV light,) the nail polish trick wasn't working. I scraped, pulled, soaked, snipped, and tugged. I finally had to go and get some pure acetone and soak my nails in that and then chip away at them and it STILL took two days to get most of them off. It wrecked my real nails, and my cuticles look like they got in a fight with an angry ferret! Also, I still have some of the acrylic nail stuff on my real nails, which makes it impossible to cover up the damage with other nail polish without looking like putting paint over peeling wallpaper. 

So, in an attempt to be pretty and fancy and polished, my hands look worse than they did before. At least I've learned my lesson about spending my money on fake nails! I guess, if I want to look nice, I'll just to focus on something less complicated. Like showing off my cleavage. ;)

2) Logan graduated from Air Force basic training last week!  We are so proud! I know he's a grown man who is married and has a child, but he will always seem so young to me. Angie sent me pictures and I unexpectedly got all weepy. I guess because he's officially an adult now! *sniff*

3) While Angie and Shawn were in San Antonio for logan's graduation, we got to keep Logan's dog, Beau. He's 8, almost 9 years old, but I don't think he knows it. He's still as hyper and crazy as ever. He was very sad when Angie left him with me, but he and I came to an understanding. He learned I am a sucker and will play with him all of the time, and I learned that he is a dog that can con me into playing with him all of the time. Steve was home with Beau most of the time, because he mostly works remotely. Beau was quiet, sleepy, and calm while Steve was there. Once I got home, all of that went out of the window. We played ball. We played tug. We disemboweled several stuffed animals. We also slept in the recliner together at night so he wouldn't be scared, and to be frank, he was the only one who got any sleep because it's not comfortable to have a 60-pound cinderblock of a dog sticking his pointy claws into my armpit, while he rolls over and over on top of me. Also, waking up randomly in the middle of the night for belly scratches was disruptive too. Steve went out of town for the weekend, and I was there with Beau alone for three days, and those three days almost killed me. I love the dog, he is precious, and if anything happened to him I'd kill everyone in the room and then myself, but damn if I wasn't a little bit glad when Angie and Shawn picked him up on Sunday afternoon. I think I slept for 18 straight hours once I was alone. I still haven't recovered.

4) You know how I mentioned above that I don't know how to be a fancy lady? Well, we are going to a fancy-pants wedding this weekend and to date I've bought 4 dresses for it and still have no idea which one is most appropriate. At some point I've just forgotten how to be a woman.

Well, I've forgotten how to be a dressy, nicely put together woman, at least. There are all kinds of ways to be a woman that I still know how to be, but none of those ways can tell me what to wear to a black-tie-optional wedding - or wear fake nails. 

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

 1) As much as I enjoy social media (well, as much as anyone can enjoy it if they manage to avoid the ugliness that it can produce) one thing really bothers me. Every once in a while, some app that I’m using will give me a notification saying that it has a new option for me to modify my circle, or however they put it. They tell you that you can create a special group of people within your followers to talk to and exclude other followers. Granted, I suppose this makes sense if you are a marketing site and have paid memberships that get special content, but I don’t understand it in the context of personal accounts. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s like inviting people to a party, but not talking to them or letting them hear any conversation. They can sit at the table, but no one will acknowledge them. It’s weird. I don’t like the fact that they are giving me the option of being a Mean Girl. 

2) I'm procrastinating SO HARD at work right now. I'm so tired and I don't want to do anything. Allergies are kicking my ass and I feel like the only thing I have any desire to do is lie down and float in the ether of pollen and malaise. 

I've got a lot of things on my to-do list, so I'm going to see how many of them I can ignore before things go 30 Seconds to Midnight.

3) Last Saturday, Steve and I went to the Mad Scientist Bash for this year with some of our other coworkers! It was fun! I'd been planning my costume for a while, but it turned out less "Mad Scientist" and leaned more towards "Super Villain." However, being fair, a lot of super villains start out as scientists that are mad, sooooo...

I found a black lab coat, wore all black clothes and boots, and had a pair of LED glasses that you could program with messages to scroll. Also, and I'm not sure how smart this was, I dyed my hair blue. Well, I tinted it blue. It's mostly noticeable in the places where my hair is already white, so it's not all that obtrusive. Also, and I didn't consider this until DAYS later, the event was in a large, dimly lit building, so no one could really see that my hair was tinted anyway. Oh well, I like it, even though I know it's going to turn green before it fades completely. Look, when I pick a theme, I COMMIT. Heehee.

The keynote speaker was obviously a very brilliant man, but he kept chasing tangents and so I didn't have any idea what he was trying to talk about. To be honest, it was probably going to go over my head anyways, but I think it could have been pretty fascinating. I may have to look into the subject on the internet and see if there is a "for Dummies" version out there. We ate, we drank, and we danced. Because I was wearing the mostly face obscuring glasses, I didn't have any self consciousness, so I was dancing like no one was watching. However, it turned out someone was watching and I got filmed by someone. I don't know who. So, if you happen to see a video clip of someone in black, with blue hair and a screen on their face that kept scrolling "Greetings Fellow Nerds" dancing like a lunatic, that was me. You don't have to admit to anyone that you know me. I'll understand.

4) Y'all, can I confess something? I feel overwhelmed lately. I don't even know what I'm overwhelmed with. Life, maybe? I don't know why, since my work load hasn't changed, and my everything else load is about the same, but damn, I feel like there is just too much. Does that make sense? I wake up ready to go back to bed, and during the day I just want to hide in a closet and wait there until it's time to go home so I can cram myself under a blanket and hide from everyone and everything. Like, I have so much I need to do at home, but by the time I get there all I can do is stare around and be overwhelmed by that, too, so I don't end up doing the stuff. Steve is hardly ever home anymore, so it's kind of up to me to make sure everything is all in order, and since it's just two of us you'd think that would be easy, but I can't get seem to make myself do any of it because it still feels like too much. In turn, not doing those things makes me feel even more overwhelmed because I know I'm just going to have to do it later. 

The occasional work event (see above) or hockey game, or things like that are a nice respite, but I sometimes almost feel like they're too much, too. 

Am I burned out? Is this what burn out feels like? I hate it.

5) I'm addicted to string cheese. Addicted to it! I have always been meh about it in the past, but a couple of weeks ago I got some for work (at the request of a coworker) and I ate a piece and now it's almost all I want to eat. I am going to get SCURVY.  I don't even know if it is the taste or the fact that it is a pleasantly tactile sort of food, but all I know is that I have to have a bag of it in arms reach at all time or I start feeling withdrawal symptoms.

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

 1) Ok, so I'm going to try and catch up on some of those things I said I was going to write about a few weeks ago. Not everything needs a paragraph, but some of them do! I'll be brief-ish.

2) The cancer scare: During my last annual mammogram, the tech noticed some weirdness in my scan. They didn't tell me this while I was there, of course, so I got a letter a few days later saying that I would need to undergo a more thorough screening at one of the women's breast cancer centers locally. Of course, they couldn't get me into see them for two weeks, but they made it clear that it could be ANY NUMBER of things, and not necessarily cancer, buuuuuuutttt....

Yikes.

So I had to wait for a couple of weeks, wondering the whole time if I was about to have the rug yanked out from under me. I tried not to worry, and thankfully I was so busy that I didn't have a lot of time to dwell, but in the wee hours I spent time dwelling. That sucked.  However, I had my appointment with the space-age boob scanner and the doctor said he didn't think it was anything to worry about! 

The only thing that still kind of worries me is that I found a lump in that same breast a couple of years ago, and the weirdness was in the same place, so I don't know if this is indicative of an actual problem, or if I just have one rowdy, unpredictable boob. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

3) The church decided to use a temp agency to fill the position of secretary, but they still haven't found anyone to hire just yet. They actually got "fired" from the first temp agency that they engaged with because they wouldn't immediately take the people who the agency sent over. 

The biggest problem is that the church has morality parameters that they feel they have to fall within to hire a secretary. See, with me, they knew what kind of person they were getting (for the most part), and I didn't do anything that was going to publicly embarrass them. The people the agency was sending had social media videos of them scantily clad, dancing like hoochies with guns, or they were living with their significant others without being married, or they are into witchcraft.  So... it's been a process. I'm still working there twice a week to get the major stuff done, but I think they may be close to finally hiring someone this time. 

4) During December, Steve, Anthony and I went to Chattanooga to have dinner on the Christmas Train! It was a lot of fun and a whole new experience for all of us. The train left from the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum and drove through the outskirts. We had waiters in white coats serving us dinner, and it was really neat! It drove really slowly, though, and we ended up staying out much later than we had intended, but it was fun.

We went to Gatlinburg the next day, and I was dumb enough not to remember to take a coat with me on this trip, so we had to stop at Wal-Mart so I could get something to wear. I ended up with something that looked like a shiny, quilted garbage bag, but it was warm enough! We ate and walked around downtown, and we even visited the Native American museum outside of town. 

We spent the last day in downtown Chattanooga doing the tour of the distillery and buying chocolate at the Hot Chocolatier. We hung out here and there until afternoon and then came back home. It was a fun weekend. Chattanooga is not my favorite place, for reasons, but it is the place we go, so I'm glad it was fun.

EXTRA:

5) My birthday was fine, thanks for asking. I went to work instead of staying home like I normally do and everyone was very kind. Steve had to work late, and so I made myself dinner, read, watched TV, and then went to bed early. I'm 45 now. Halfway to 90.