I know. You were just sitting there thinking, “God, I can NOT go on with my day–my life!–without knowing what hd did today. And that’s what I’m all about here, helping people. So, in no particular order, I give you my day. You’re welcome.
- I spent a considerable amount of time perusing this website. The answers to your questions are “yes, I am;” “maybe, I have to talk to my uncle, Contractor, and see if he is game;” and, “no, it’s not really because of the snake.”
- I searched for over an hour for current web references to Barbara Mandrell, who was on my mind thanks to Crystal and her “an anomaly before being an anomaly was cool” comment.* This is what I learned: apparently Barbara Mandrell has fallen off the face of the earth. Her last public appearance as a mega-super-singer-dancer Entertainer** was in 1997, and she has sold her famous house, Fontanel, which is the world’s largest log cabin (and I use that word only because that’s what they are called, log cabins, but saying this place is a cabin is like saying Michael Jackson is a bit eccentric). Rumor has it NBC is releasing the DVD collection of “Barbara Mandrell and the Mandrell Sisters,” which was one of my very favorite shows in the early 80s (it ranked right up there with “Hee Haw,” “The Janie Frickie Show,” “The Carol Burnett Show,” “The Muppet Show,” and “Little House on the Prairie.” How exciting is that? I can see my summer shaping up already: I’ll work my way through seasons 1-4 of “Magnum, P.I.” and then start on the Mandrells. God, life is good.
- I walked out the door in the very first outfit I put on this morning. This is significant because Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings were Bad Clothes Days. Come to think of it, so were most mornings last week. I’ve been averaging 3 pairs of pants, 4 shirts, and multiple pairs of socks a morning, all of which are in a big tangled pile on my bed by the time I fly out the door cursing. This is my number one PMS symptom, by the way, and not because my clothes don’t fit right. It’s because for the few days before I start a new cycle, everything in my closet becomes unspeakably ugly, and when I put on something from my closet and look in the mirror I see a hag of mythical proportions. The only beautiful clothes in the world are those worn by the Pretty People (read: pretty much everyone else on the planet) and every outfit I don leaves me rocking in the corner with my hands over my eyes moaning, “Must…get…new…clothes. I…can’t…go…on… wearing…these…rags.” Fortunately my number two PMS symptom is exhaustion, so I never have the energy to actually go shopping for new clothes in an effort to become one of the Pretty People. By the time that new cycle has officially begun I have fully recovered and can comfortably walk out the door wearing a pair of camouflage capri pants with a tie-dyed shirt and a toboggan and toe socks and not give a shit. Which is exactly what I did today.***
- I scheduled an HSG. Well, not exactly. But I called to schedule it and Nurse Peggy, who does all the surgery scheduling, wasn’t in, so she’s going to call me tomorrow, but HOLY SHIT, y’all, do you know what this means? The break is over!****
- I all but licked the inside of a bag of Garden of Eatin’ blue tortilla chips. Earlier this week I was binge eating sugar, which is why I had to ask my neighbor to hide all of my Girl Scout cookies (O, Thin Mint, how I adore thee!), but now I am like a deer at a salt lick.
- I updated my blog links, complete with alphabetization and several new additions. If you’re not there and you’re feeling left out, be patient. I was updating at work, and most of my regular blogs are bookmarked at home. Or, if you’re not feeling patient today, taunt me and call me names and throw things at me, and I will have a 3rd grade recess flashback and then add you because I’m afraid of you and don’t want to risk any more confrontation.
- And now I’m going to watch “Friends”(Tom Selleck is on! Be still, my heart!) and periodically sprinkle Margarita salt in my mouth and hum “Sleepin’ Single in a Double Bed”***** and fantasize about my new house and send positive energy to my uterus and work my way through all your blogs. Man, I hope I don’t collapse under the weight of the purpose and import that are my existence.******
*If you were any kind of music aficionado you would know that Crystal’s comment reminded me of Barbara Mandrell because Barbara Mandrell wrote a famous song called “I Was Country When Country Wasn’t Cool.”
**How could I not capitalize Entertainer? Haven’t you seen her dance? And play two guitars at the same time? While singing? And dancing?
***No, not really, but how hilarious would it be to show up at work dressed that way?
****If you’re just tuning in, I’ve been trying to get knocked up since last May, but I’ve been on a break since November.
*****Really, people, am I the only Barbara Mandrell fan left on the planet?
******I promise on all that is holy that this is not my real life, but I am tired and fuzzy and cursing Eve for that whole womanly pain thing she landed us, and I really need to live the life of a slug today.
5 thoughts on “What I did today”
Time is of the essence with HSGs. They should be done between day 8 and 10 (which is always over a weekend, of course…). Haven’t read your blog far enough to see whether you’ve had one, but I had one in September and it wasn’t too bad. It’s like an extra-long Pap, with inflation of your uterus and more pain. Then it’s over.
Supposedly it helps you get pregnant – that is, if they find nothing wrong.
i understand the whole going through a number of shirts and pants, but SOCKS??? weird.
(and i’m so glad the break is over. i’m send very, very, very good thoughts your way.)
I remember when no one was looking I was putting peanuts in my coke….or something
Oh, the Mandrell sisters! I’m just glad someone else used to watch that! I used to watch it in the evenings with my grandparents – the Mandrells and the Muppets.
I spent seventy bucks to see Barbara at the Long Beach Terrace Theater, must have been twelve years ago. She was quite an Entertainer with Big Hair then. She was peddling No Nonsense Panty Hose throughout her act which bugged me because it wasn’t like she gave them away, and, after all, I did pay my seventy dollars. I noticed you don’t wear panty hose anymore. More power to ya, sister.