The Magic Of The Face

Yesterday was the BIG, go get all the information, sign the forms, and face the reality of looming surgery, day. Overall, I was able to survive it. I did however have a moment that stopped me in my tracks and while I know damn well what a hysterectomy is and what the end results of said hysterectomy is, it was very hard to face the very kind pretty lady who hands me a form and states this says you are acknowledging we are sterilizing you, Yes I am totally aware of that, however looking at it in writing, in capital letters with lines for you to sign an initial, caused a side trip to another place in my psyche reserved for my come apart moments in the privacy of my daily life that I tend to prevent witnesses from participating in. So I smiled politely. I signed the form. I gave them blood. I spoke to the juice doctor who will be putting me under for the festivities and I am all set to be officially a closed down baby making factory. Mine was apparently scheduled to fold at this tim...

Yep, the holiday turned out exactly like I thought it would. Insanity from the word go. I woke up to go check on the 'Rent and ensure she was all set for the day. I even said I would do the hair since she tires easily and I wanted to do something to try to make her happy for just a little bit. What I found waiting for me was a sniveling little old woman who looked up at me and said, "Go on without me." In my mind what I saw was her laying on her back on the sofa with her hand palm up on her forehead doing her best wounded war vet impersonation telling me to "Go on without me, I can't make it." Seriously, I was trying to figure out if I went to sleep and woke up and an extra in the middle of a production of a WWII film. What kind of jackass would I be to spend a holiday meal with 18 other people knowing the 'Rent was sitting home alone? I told her we would all stay and I would make her dinner at home. For some reason, I am guessing since I disrupted...

We all have them.Family. And for the most part I really do love my family. But the whole expectations of joy and good cheer and shiny happy faces bullshit everyone puts on each other. Oy! Too Freaking Much Pressure. The 'Rent got a cold. We both got a cold. We both had to go on Antibiotics to get well. The 'Rent had to go on a second round (compromised immune system and all). DO WE TAKE THEM? DO WE GET BETTER? No, we do not. Then we complain and whine and whimper and expect everyone else to do everything else for us and do it with a smile. Take me for instance. We are going to the larger family gathering. I ordered cheesecakes that are TO DIE FOR, and got LOTS of wine to make it through the day because I get to spend my Thanksgiving being the 'Rent Wrangler. Last night I get informed that SHE is going to make a pecan pie. We have TWO HUGE cheesecakes SHE HAS COMMITTED TO MAKE A PIE. And then stares at me, and says she has to make the crust. So I stare back, ...

Well normal never lasts for long with me. Or maybe this constant state of bizarre is my normal... That is probably more the case, if I had to guess. So Ramirez comes by my cube at work. Doing some random wandering of the building, since to my knowledge he has no need to wander the floor of our area any more. Each and every CREEPY time he skulks silently up to the entrance to the holding cell called my cube, I get the same statement/question, "Could you turn your monitor further around if you tried?". I sit with my back to the cube entrance, my desk is U shaped around the three walls of the cube. If you were standing at the gap known as the entrance, my laptop would sit in the right corner of the desk. Because I use many applications at a time in my job, I have a second monitor. So as to make it comfortable for me to use this second monitor it is almost at a 90 degree angle to my laptop so I need to rotate my neck the least amount possible to view items between the two scree...

Please bear with this one, it really is a point of humor to me, while it may not seem so at first. Like every adult woman I submit to the invasive and embarrassing visit to the "Hoo Hoo" doctor, as the spouse puts it, once a year. Yes we know the correct term, this just seems so much more juvenile and fits in with his 15 year old maturity level. Three years ago I went in to have some pain checked to find out I had something known as a fibroid tumor. These are very common and the usual prognosis for one this size is to have the whole kit and caboodle removed because the buggers come back. I opted to have the tumor removed for two very selfish reasons. I wasn't ready to give up on the chance of pregnancy yet and I didn't want to jump into the hot-flash pan immediately post surgery. My doctor was kind enough to come up with a medical plan to accommodate me, only to get into my surgery to learn that I had one of the most severe cases of e ndometriosis  he has ever see...

Today I have no funny stories of the odd ducks I work with, or my crazy 'Rent and her antics. Today I have a heavy heart and another piece of my childhood and love ripped to shreds. You see dear reader, I see life as a journey. As we get older we grow out of the bed wetting, plastic pantie/bedsheets stage into the sleep through the night stage. We go to school. We make friends. We get to know our friends parents and their family. If we are lucky enough and our friendships long standing enough our friend's siblings become our friends too, or family of the heart along with our friends. These folks become part of our shared history. As such we assume they will be a part of our story line for a long time to come. (AGES even) We age. We move through life and talk once in a while. If they are real friends, time and distance have no real impact on their place in our lives and hearts. They are always there, we just don't get to see them like we used to. These people be...

Here in my office they have started an initiative to recycle. Let me splain. I live in the deep South. Recycling is not only not practiced, it isn't even really encouraged. Having grown up in the NE, both the spousal unit and I have the life long habit of doing so, to the point that we have two garbage cans in the kitchen. One for recycling and one for garbage. And yes they are even labeled. Since we started the actual request to get everyone in the office actively involved I have been keeping a plastic shopping bag at my desk to gather cans until I get more than ONE AT A TIME together to take down to the community location for gathering in the Ground Level. This morning I went to get some ice for my brought from home beverage of choice and decided it was time for the current bag to be taken to be added to the collective. Not some huge feat of daring or abnormality. At least I didn't think so. Apparently I was mistaken. I no longer work for the Serial Killer in hiding bos...