I left work for a while today to buy some things I need for a baby shower I'm hosting on Saturday. After I was finished with my errand I was stopped at a traffic light and almost nodded off -- don't know if it is the heat or the pregnancy (ha ha ha -- just seeing if you were paying attention) or the fact THAT I HAVE NOT HAD A DECENT NIGHT'S SLEEP IN TWO AND A HALF YEARS, AVERY KATHARINE.
Anyway, I pulled into an office parking lot near where I work, cracked the windows, reclined the seat, turned the car off and apparently, promptly fell asleep.
About half an hour later, I was awakened by a very polite maintenance person who was standing back from the window saying, "ma'am? ma'am? I need to get into that gate you're parked near and I was afraid the noise would wake you up and you'd get scared." He went on to say that he noticed the baby car seat in the back and because he has young kids, he knows how important the power naps are and that it looked like I was sleeping pretty soundly.
His simple act of kindness really made my day. (Well, that and the power nap.)
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
A Very Steenberg Bathtime
When my sister and I were growing up, we loved it when our dad gave us baths. (Well, until high school, then it just got weird.)
I kid. He made bathtime so much fun (apologies to rubber ducky here). He gave each of our body parts special names that made us giggle uncontrollably:
legs were "legotomies"
arms were "armadillos"
chest was "a chest of drawers"
butt was "a dufty doodle"
feet were "tootsies"
Then, to dry off, he'd have us stand on a towel and lift us up and down like it was an elevator.
Needless to say, we've taught Avery the nonsensical names of her body parts since her very first bath. She loves it as much as I used to. I'm sure my dad would be thrilled with this legacy.
I kid. He made bathtime so much fun (apologies to rubber ducky here). He gave each of our body parts special names that made us giggle uncontrollably:
legs were "legotomies"
arms were "armadillos"
chest was "a chest of drawers"
butt was "a dufty doodle"
feet were "tootsies"
Then, to dry off, he'd have us stand on a towel and lift us up and down like it was an elevator.
Needless to say, we've taught Avery the nonsensical names of her body parts since her very first bath. She loves it as much as I used to. I'm sure my dad would be thrilled with this legacy.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Memorial Day Weekend
What a fun weekend. Lots of different (and kid-friendly) activities and gorgeous weather!
Friday night we went to see "The Bee Movie" at Glyndon Park in Vienna. It was a very small crowd, and Avery loved the whole experience of laying on a blanket in a park watching a movie. She stayed awake for the entire thing and was pretty fascinated with the movie and at the end when "Here comes the Sun" played in the movie sound track she turned to me and said, "Hey -- that's what you sing". (I sing it to her a lot. So now that the song was in an animated movie, she thinks I'm a rock star.)
Saturday we had a play date at our house with Amanda and her daughter, Allison. The girls had a great time. Tim had a play date (bike riding) with his friend, Joe. Sadly, Joe's bike broke about a mile from the house, so Tim had to ride alone. That night, Tim and I set a tent up in our backyard (hee hee Tim pitched a tent) and told Avery we were going to camp out back. She loved the whole idea of it, and fell asleep in the tent after reading a couple of books by flashlight. Tim, however, was pushed off the air mattress by Avery and I in the middle of the night, so he wanted to go into the house around 2am, thus ending our camping adventure.
Sunday, Amanda came over with her friend, Tanti, and we headed to the Strawberry Festival in Delaplane. Beautiful day for a drive out through Virginia wine country. The festival itself was small and a little disappointing (very few strawberries, for instance, and we missed the strawberry-eating contest by one day). But it was a gorgeous day to sit in the sun with friends, so whatever. We cooked out when we got back and ate by the pool. Did I mention it was a gorgeous day? Dilettanti, especially, seemed to enjoy herself. (Video to come...)Leon couldn't make it, because he hates strawberries and gorgeous days.
Monday, we met the Beenhouwers at Viva Vienna! to watch Rocknoceros perform and go on a few rides. (Avery was more interested in the rides than the band. Every time they finished a song, she'd say, "All done?" hopefully -- knowing that the rides were the next thing we were going to do.) At the festival, she got a balloon from some vendor...so last night, I taught her how funny it is when mommy sucks helium and sings "Mickey Mouse".
Today? Back to the life-suckiness the work can sometimes be. Why isn't every work week four days long?
Friday night we went to see "The Bee Movie" at Glyndon Park in Vienna. It was a very small crowd, and Avery loved the whole experience of laying on a blanket in a park watching a movie. She stayed awake for the entire thing and was pretty fascinated with the movie and at the end when "Here comes the Sun" played in the movie sound track she turned to me and said, "Hey -- that's what you sing". (I sing it to her a lot. So now that the song was in an animated movie, she thinks I'm a rock star.)
Saturday we had a play date at our house with Amanda and her daughter, Allison. The girls had a great time. Tim had a play date (bike riding) with his friend, Joe. Sadly, Joe's bike broke about a mile from the house, so Tim had to ride alone. That night, Tim and I set a tent up in our backyard (hee hee Tim pitched a tent) and told Avery we were going to camp out back. She loved the whole idea of it, and fell asleep in the tent after reading a couple of books by flashlight. Tim, however, was pushed off the air mattress by Avery and I in the middle of the night, so he wanted to go into the house around 2am, thus ending our camping adventure.
Sunday, Amanda came over with her friend, Tanti, and we headed to the Strawberry Festival in Delaplane. Beautiful day for a drive out through Virginia wine country. The festival itself was small and a little disappointing (very few strawberries, for instance, and we missed the strawberry-eating contest by one day). But it was a gorgeous day to sit in the sun with friends, so whatever. We cooked out when we got back and ate by the pool. Did I mention it was a gorgeous day? Dilettanti, especially, seemed to enjoy herself. (Video to come...)Leon couldn't make it, because he hates strawberries and gorgeous days.
Monday, we met the Beenhouwers at Viva Vienna! to watch Rocknoceros perform and go on a few rides. (Avery was more interested in the rides than the band. Every time they finished a song, she'd say, "All done?" hopefully -- knowing that the rides were the next thing we were going to do.) At the festival, she got a balloon from some vendor...so last night, I taught her how funny it is when mommy sucks helium and sings "Mickey Mouse".
Today? Back to the life-suckiness the work can sometimes be. Why isn't every work week four days long?
Friday, May 23, 2008
More Intellectual Discourse With Scotty
Scott: farts are funny!
Me: pharts are phunny, phag
Scott: heh heh heh. I'm off to load more crap into the truck. phuqr.
Me: better than crapping a load in the truck, I suppose. Or have you done that already? unitard.
Scott: I may have baked up a batch of "work'n man's" brownies
Me: with nuts?
And with that, Happy Memorial Day weekend, everyone!
Me: pharts are phunny, phag
Scott: heh heh heh. I'm off to load more crap into the truck. phuqr.
Me: better than crapping a load in the truck, I suppose. Or have you done that already? unitard.
Scott: I may have baked up a batch of "work'n man's" brownies
Me: with nuts?
And with that, Happy Memorial Day weekend, everyone!
Really?
Went to the ATM at BB&T at lunchtime to take out $20. Tried to put my card in. Didn't work. Tried again. Didn't work. Looked at diagram, verified card was in right position, tried again. Didn't work. Tried one more time. Didn't work.
Walked inside bank. Waited for person ahead of me to finish transaction. Said to teller, "did you know your ATM out front is not working?" and he said, "yes" >smirk<
So I politely suggested that he may want to put a sign on the ATM letting people know this so that they would not try several times to insert their card. He ignored this.
In my super funky funk today...this is just what I needed.
Walked inside bank. Waited for person ahead of me to finish transaction. Said to teller, "did you know your ATM out front is not working?" and he said, "yes" >smirk<
So I politely suggested that he may want to put a sign on the ATM letting people know this so that they would not try several times to insert their card. He ignored this.
In my super funky funk today...this is just what I needed.
Revisionist History
This morning, Avery asked to bring irises from our yard to her teachers, Esmat and Jessica. So I screamed, "NO! you are a rotten little brat!" Just kidding, of course. I said it in a very civil tone.
Of course I said we could -- how cute is that? We cut them and wrapped them up and she insisted on carrying them into the school. (I told her to be careful with them, which somehow translated into her walking vvveeeerrryyy slowly.)
When we got to her classroom, she got very shy. Her teachers loved the gesture and thanked her and kissed her, and then she got all embarrassed and wanted to hug me. So, I pantsed her and ran out the door, laughing maniacally.
Of course I said we could -- how cute is that? We cut them and wrapped them up and she insisted on carrying them into the school. (I told her to be careful with them, which somehow translated into her walking vvveeeerrryyy slowly.)
When we got to her classroom, she got very shy. Her teachers loved the gesture and thanked her and kissed her, and then she got all embarrassed and wanted to hug me. So, I pantsed her and ran out the door, laughing maniacally.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I'm Great In Emergencies, It's True!
When my mom, my dad and I were visiting my sister in Florida one Christmas, she took us on a tour of the University of Miami, where she was a law student.
We were walking into the courtroom where the moot court trials took place and as I walked into the room and near the jury box, I noticed an opened bag of potato chips sitting on the railing. Without missing a beat, my sister said, "sometimes, the jury eats potato chips" and we all laughed.
About two seconds later, I noticed some filthy, dirty feet sticking out from under a blanket -- also near the jury box. It was obviously a homeless person who had set up camp in the courtroom while all the students were on Christmas break. What I didn't know was if this person might be dangerous. Because, you see, I was so busy pushing my father (two hands on his chest -- pushing!) out of my way to run out of the courtroom with complete and utter disregard for the fates of my family members, that I wouldn't have known if he was a crazy, knife-wielding lunatic until after all of my family was sliced into bloody ribbons and I was hearing about it on the evening news.
(And to rub it in, not only did all of my family members survive, but re-told this story for years -- as a follow-on to the kitchen grease fire story of '77 -- you know, the one where after the fire was exinguished, they found me three blocks away. The second my mom had said, "fire" and everyone else pitched in to put it out -- I bolted out the front door and just kept going.)
We were walking into the courtroom where the moot court trials took place and as I walked into the room and near the jury box, I noticed an opened bag of potato chips sitting on the railing. Without missing a beat, my sister said, "sometimes, the jury eats potato chips" and we all laughed.
About two seconds later, I noticed some filthy, dirty feet sticking out from under a blanket -- also near the jury box. It was obviously a homeless person who had set up camp in the courtroom while all the students were on Christmas break. What I didn't know was if this person might be dangerous. Because, you see, I was so busy pushing my father (two hands on his chest -- pushing!) out of my way to run out of the courtroom with complete and utter disregard for the fates of my family members, that I wouldn't have known if he was a crazy, knife-wielding lunatic until after all of my family was sliced into bloody ribbons and I was hearing about it on the evening news.
(And to rub it in, not only did all of my family members survive, but re-told this story for years -- as a follow-on to the kitchen grease fire story of '77 -- you know, the one where after the fire was exinguished, they found me three blocks away. The second my mom had said, "fire" and everyone else pitched in to put it out -- I bolted out the front door and just kept going.)
The Sound Of Things Falling Apart
(Stealing the title of this post from the name of a mix tape that a guy I hooked up with during my years at JMU made for me. I thought he was the coolest -- especially because he cut out the letters from magazines and taped them onto the cassette.)
But I digress. The sound of things falling apart is what I am faced with every morning lately. In addition to my pre-op left knee, I'm fairly certain that the right knee will also require surgery in the not-too-distant future; I seem to have a repetitive stress injury in my elbow (probably from typing on the computer -- blogging helps (snarf)); and my jaw is so sore right now that I cannot chew food. (I know there's a joke in here somewhere about that never happening BEFORE I got married...but I'll skip it, thanks.)
And now I'm becoming one of those people that cannot stop talking about their freaking ailments...because the freaking ailments are taking over my life.
In addition to scheduling a trillion doctors' appointments, I have taken to drinking my dinner (and not just because I can't chew...if you know what I'm saying.)
But I digress. The sound of things falling apart is what I am faced with every morning lately. In addition to my pre-op left knee, I'm fairly certain that the right knee will also require surgery in the not-too-distant future; I seem to have a repetitive stress injury in my elbow (probably from typing on the computer -- blogging helps (snarf)); and my jaw is so sore right now that I cannot chew food. (I know there's a joke in here somewhere about that never happening BEFORE I got married...but I'll skip it, thanks.)
And now I'm becoming one of those people that cannot stop talking about their freaking ailments...because the freaking ailments are taking over my life.
In addition to scheduling a trillion doctors' appointments, I have taken to drinking my dinner (and not just because I can't chew...if you know what I'm saying.)
What A Puss
Every night, when Avery and I come home, we are greeted at the door by our two cats, meowing and begging for their dinner.
It wasn't always this way. When we only had Brooke, we could leave her food bowl filled at all times. She's good at self-regulating food and would graze daintily all day.
When Seamus joined the family we quickly learned that he dined with all the grace of a Hoover vacuum. Often eating so much so fast that it would cause him to vomit up a pile of mostly unchewed food. Yes...eating so fast, that he did not even take the time to chew it up.
After an embarrassing trip to the vet for their annual checkups (and the vet not listening to my protestations of "but he's big-boned") we now have to feed the cats set portions twice a day. We also have to feed them separately, so Seamus does not eat Brooke's food. Further? We have to put golf balls in Seamus' bowl. This supposedly forces him to eat around those, which slows down his eating.
To add to that charming visual, let me give you this: Seamus has to be touching me at all times and will gnaw on anything plastic in the house -- easter eggs, bags, toys, credit cards....I refer to him as my "special needs" cat, but I could not love him more. He purrs the second you pat him and when I say "bubbles" he will come running (with his gigantic stomach swinging from side to side) so that he and Avery can pop bubbles as I blow them. He is always available to take a nap with me, and is just the sweetest cat in the world.
Last night, when we walked in, we were greeted by only one cat -- Brooke. Odd, because of the two, Seamus is usually the more eager for his dinner.
I went downstairs and found him on the rug in the bathroom -- next to a tiny baby field mouse. The mouse was completely unharmed and seemed okay -- except for his ridiculously fast heartbeat.
Because I am so good in emergencies, I shooed Seamus out of the bathroom, closed the door, and waited for Tim to get home. While we waited, my two-year-old said to me, "Daddy is much better at this stuff."
Tim came home and put the mouse in a box and he and Avery walked outside and let the mouse go.
Yes -- I know that the mouse will come back. I also know that we probably need an exterminator and where there's one baby mouse, there are likely other mice. However, in every scenario the cute little mice do not live happily ever after, so at this point, I am unwilling to discuss that.
The part that I love? In a house with two (hungry) cats -- one was completely ambivalent and one befriended the mouse.
It wasn't always this way. When we only had Brooke, we could leave her food bowl filled at all times. She's good at self-regulating food and would graze daintily all day.
When Seamus joined the family we quickly learned that he dined with all the grace of a Hoover vacuum. Often eating so much so fast that it would cause him to vomit up a pile of mostly unchewed food. Yes...eating so fast, that he did not even take the time to chew it up.
After an embarrassing trip to the vet for their annual checkups (and the vet not listening to my protestations of "but he's big-boned") we now have to feed the cats set portions twice a day. We also have to feed them separately, so Seamus does not eat Brooke's food. Further? We have to put golf balls in Seamus' bowl. This supposedly forces him to eat around those, which slows down his eating.
To add to that charming visual, let me give you this: Seamus has to be touching me at all times and will gnaw on anything plastic in the house -- easter eggs, bags, toys, credit cards....I refer to him as my "special needs" cat, but I could not love him more. He purrs the second you pat him and when I say "bubbles" he will come running (with his gigantic stomach swinging from side to side) so that he and Avery can pop bubbles as I blow them. He is always available to take a nap with me, and is just the sweetest cat in the world.
Last night, when we walked in, we were greeted by only one cat -- Brooke. Odd, because of the two, Seamus is usually the more eager for his dinner.
I went downstairs and found him on the rug in the bathroom -- next to a tiny baby field mouse. The mouse was completely unharmed and seemed okay -- except for his ridiculously fast heartbeat.
Because I am so good in emergencies, I shooed Seamus out of the bathroom, closed the door, and waited for Tim to get home. While we waited, my two-year-old said to me, "Daddy is much better at this stuff."
Tim came home and put the mouse in a box and he and Avery walked outside and let the mouse go.
Yes -- I know that the mouse will come back. I also know that we probably need an exterminator and where there's one baby mouse, there are likely other mice. However, in every scenario the cute little mice do not live happily ever after, so at this point, I am unwilling to discuss that.
The part that I love? In a house with two (hungry) cats -- one was completely ambivalent and one befriended the mouse.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Housecleaning
Just this morning, I tossed out the fertility monitor.
If we ever get crazy enough to have a kid again...it will be adopted.
If we ever get crazy enough to have a kid again...it will be adopted.
Monday, May 19, 2008
True, Dat
My wizened little 70 year old father in law just bought a Hummer- and
not the kind you buy for 50 bucks on Malcom X Ave.
Nothing screams "run" like a 70 year old asian guy in an 8
thousand pound truck.
(thanks for the visual, Lovey Sunshine)
not the kind you buy for 50 bucks on Malcom X Ave.
Nothing screams "run" like a 70 year old asian guy in an 8
thousand pound truck.
(thanks for the visual, Lovey Sunshine)
All You Need Is Love (And Cocktails)
From the wedding we went to on Saturday. It was scheduled to take place in Mason District Park and hallelujah! Saturday was the one nice day we've had in weeks. Setting was gorgeous and the coolest part? The groom's sister sang all of the wedding music and played keyboard and the bride's brother played guitar. (She sang songs by Norah Jones, Ben Folds Five, Van Morrison and then All you Need is Love by the Beatles for the recessional). That, with the outdoor setting made for a very cool and very emotional ceremony. (And the fact that she had a fantastic voice -- you always wonder if that's a good idea when someone says their sister is singing in their wedding.)All I know is that my dress was perfect for the dilettante dip and there was nary a dilettante in sight. >sigh<.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Next Year, They're Hiring Angry Men
Tonight I get to meet Buzz Aldrin.
My friend, Hillary, works for a PR firm that hosts very cool anniversary parties every year (they're pretty small, intimate affairs held at an Irish pub). Last year, for their 10th, they hired Bo Derek (she starred in "10" -- get it?) to come and mingle. This year, for their 11th, they've hired Buzz Aldrin (he piloted Apollo 11-- get it?). Even though he's not nearly as accomplished as Bo Derek, I'm pretty thrilled to meet him.
Doing a little research on him today, I found out his mother's maiden name was "Moon" -- that's fantastic.
Hopefully, a picture of Buzz and I will be in this post tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
What's A Nice Girl Like Me Doing With A Joint Like This?
Those who know me know that I'm not one to gloat, but let me just say this: my patellar retinaculum is intact. Moreover, my lateral meniscus is normal and my ACL and PCL are intact. (Take THAT, girls who were mean to me in junior high!)
In case you're wondering, I got the results of my MRI and went over them with my doctor this morning. My doctor kept tossing in words like, "effusion" and "myositis" -- which meant I kept tossing in words like, "huh" and "what?"
Bottom line: I need arthroscopic surgery on my left knee. Good times. Because, really, isn't surgery a treat? Especially when it doesn't result in better boobs or fewer wrinkles?
Poop.
(My elephantitis hit an all-time low yesterday -- so freakishly gross that I showed it to a guy I work with. Even through my jeans he could see how swollen and disgusting my knee was. He was very sympathetic, though -- and referred to me as "thunder knees" for the rest of the day.)
In case you're wondering, I got the results of my MRI and went over them with my doctor this morning. My doctor kept tossing in words like, "effusion" and "myositis" -- which meant I kept tossing in words like, "huh" and "what?"
Bottom line: I need arthroscopic surgery on my left knee. Good times. Because, really, isn't surgery a treat? Especially when it doesn't result in better boobs or fewer wrinkles?
Poop.
(My elephantitis hit an all-time low yesterday -- so freakishly gross that I showed it to a guy I work with. Even through my jeans he could see how swollen and disgusting my knee was. He was very sympathetic, though -- and referred to me as "thunder knees" for the rest of the day.)
Monday, May 12, 2008
Reel Happy
We've been on a big kick of renting movies lately to watch while Avery naps on the weekend. We're seeing tons of great movies that the rest of the world saw ages ago:
"Waitress", "Into the Wild", "Atonement", "Michael Clayton"...
I even suggested that Tim rent "Sunset Boulevard" -- we're watching that later tonight.
Pleasantly surprised by all of the above mentioned movies -- had lost faith there for a while....Superbad.
"Waitress", "Into the Wild", "Atonement", "Michael Clayton"...
I even suggested that Tim rent "Sunset Boulevard" -- we're watching that later tonight.
Pleasantly surprised by all of the above mentioned movies -- had lost faith there for a while....Superbad.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Laser? I Just Met Her.
Canetto got his lasik today!
We got there around 8:45 and we left at around 9:30 -- amazing! He got about halfway through the big breakfast I made him (he was instructed to "eat light" this morning and he has a metabolism that doesn't do "eating light" -- especially after not eating all night, so he could not wait to dig in after the surgery) before the Valium started wearing off and he started getting uncomfortable. Fortunately, the nice people at TLC had given him Tylenol PM, so as soon as it started hurting, he fell asleep. (Not IN his breakfast, but almost. Too bad -- I could have added that to the photo album I've started that also includes photos him wearing goggles and being all drugged out. Lasik is funny.)
I've heard from everyone I know who has had this done that he is not even going to believe how good his eyesight will be. How exciting for him. How frightening for me --I tend to look better in "blurry."
We got there around 8:45 and we left at around 9:30 -- amazing! He got about halfway through the big breakfast I made him (he was instructed to "eat light" this morning and he has a metabolism that doesn't do "eating light" -- especially after not eating all night, so he could not wait to dig in after the surgery) before the Valium started wearing off and he started getting uncomfortable. Fortunately, the nice people at TLC had given him Tylenol PM, so as soon as it started hurting, he fell asleep. (Not IN his breakfast, but almost. Too bad -- I could have added that to the photo album I've started that also includes photos him wearing goggles and being all drugged out. Lasik is funny.)
I've heard from everyone I know who has had this done that he is not even going to believe how good his eyesight will be. How exciting for him. How frightening for me --I tend to look better in "blurry."
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Ooooh, Baby
One of our vendors at work just sent a plea to some of my co-workers and me to sign a petition he has drafted for Marriott to get them to "stop peddling porn" -- (offering pay-per-view movies in their hotel rooms). He's part of some sort of "focus on the family" organization or something that is solving the world's ills one hotel room pay-per-view movie at a time.
Will all that is going on in the world, THIS is what he chooses fight?
I just offered my co-worker $20 to sign the petition as "Jenna Jameson"
Will all that is going on in the world, THIS is what he chooses fight?
I just offered my co-worker $20 to sign the petition as "Jenna Jameson"
Self-Awareness
Aside from hurting an animal or a person, there's not a lot I would refuse to do for five million dollars.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Scandal!
http://forbesparkcon.blogspot.com/2008/05/secrets-of-manny-pangilinan-and-david.html
I have absolutely nothing to do with this, and yet I get a mention. I love that!
I have absolutely nothing to do with this, and yet I get a mention. I love that!
Monday, May 05, 2008
Spot On. From Weingarten's Gene Pool.
Observations: Male vs Female, Feeding Ducks At A Pond
Female: attempts to distribute bread evenly among ducks. Tries to make sure smallest duck gets some extra pieces. Gets annoyed at duck bullies. Gives some bread to stranger's child.
Male: attempts to land bread pieces on duck's back. Throws entire slice of bread to see if ducks fight over it. Throws bread to one side, then the other, to make ducks swim back and forth. Tries to see if ducks will also eat tacos.
Female: attempts to distribute bread evenly among ducks. Tries to make sure smallest duck gets some extra pieces. Gets annoyed at duck bullies. Gives some bread to stranger's child.
Male: attempts to land bread pieces on duck's back. Throws entire slice of bread to see if ducks fight over it. Throws bread to one side, then the other, to make ducks swim back and forth. Tries to see if ducks will also eat tacos.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
Without A Leg To Stand On
At the risk of sounding like a big, fat whiner...I'm gonna be a big, fat whiner.
My freaking legs and knees have been KILLING me since running the 1/2 marathon and Cherry Blossom 10-miler within a few weeks of each other. I've been on anti-inflammatories and have been icing my knees, and I see small improvements, and then they hurt again. (And I have a very high tolerance for pain -- after all, I dated Rob for three years.)
The orthopaedist did not find anything serious wrong with me (physically, anyway) so I wasn't scared until last night when I noticed that left leg was extra-sore, swollen and sporting a cankle. I think the visual hurts almost more than the actual pain.
For chrissakes...I'm so miserable and miserable to be around right now. Poor Canetto. Last night, I just cried because it hurt so badly. Maybe I can get a leg transplant -- Angelina Jolie seems like a benevolent type -- hmmmm....
My freaking legs and knees have been KILLING me since running the 1/2 marathon and Cherry Blossom 10-miler within a few weeks of each other. I've been on anti-inflammatories and have been icing my knees, and I see small improvements, and then they hurt again. (And I have a very high tolerance for pain -- after all, I dated Rob for three years.)
The orthopaedist did not find anything serious wrong with me (physically, anyway) so I wasn't scared until last night when I noticed that left leg was extra-sore, swollen and sporting a cankle. I think the visual hurts almost more than the actual pain.
For chrissakes...I'm so miserable and miserable to be around right now. Poor Canetto. Last night, I just cried because it hurt so badly. Maybe I can get a leg transplant -- Angelina Jolie seems like a benevolent type -- hmmmm....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)