4 Reasons I've Been to the ER

1. A quasi-date Cause: While walking together along the jetty in Plymouth one romantic evening, I slipped and fell. Effect: I cut a very large circular flap of skin from underneath my big toe. A slick move. (Sandals aren’t best for clumsy girls on slippery, jagged rocks.)

2. A night out Cause: With about half a beer in my system and was walking down the stairs at a bar. The old left foot gave out and, yep, I fell. Effect: A broken purple foot. In the hottest month of the year. Great. (Sandals aren’t best for clumsy girls on stairs.)

3. Preparation (Really not a shining moment) Cause: Post-foot-breaking, I spent the day in Portland with my friend Brooke. Mobility was an issue, I was on crutches, and it was hot. Later that night, I was getting ready for the evening and it wasn’t going well (I curse you Ugly Week!). In my oh-so-minor frustration I attempted to open the window to no avail. Turns out banging the glass on a 1967 window isn’t really a good idea. Effect: Hand through glass, a number of stitches, $75 for a new window. A few weeks later we had a bat in our house and as I think back I realize there is a *slight* chance the hole in the window and subsequent bat visit might be related.

4. Cycles Cause: Oh, the Esplanade. What a lovely, lovely place to ride my bike. Hey, what’s that? That looks like a tree...is that a …CRASH! Effect: Torn ligament in my shoulder, flying to a family reunion the next day wearing a sling, having a stranger inadequately lock up my bike in Boston, coming back to a frame and two missing wheels 5 days later, $100 for new wheels.

Images of My Brother

Last night I had a crazy dream. I don’t recall all the details, but I do remember being very disturbed by something -- My brother was a totally different guy. I remember screaming, “He doesn’t even look the same!” But I don’t know what I meant because my bother looked the same; it's just that he had a totally different personality. Scary.

So the dream was a little traumatic and could perhaps be meaningful. But who cares about that?

I just don't understand why I thought he looked so different. Some possible explanations:

Maybe my brother looked like Screech from Saved by the Bell. If you ask me, even Screech shouldn’t look like Screech! But his name is an onomatopoeia, so that is pretty cool!



Or maybe I was thinking he looked like Benson from the 1980s. Since we’re not black, this is a bit of a stretch (note, not a Screech).




Or was it Wilford Brimley I envisioned? He is a pretty scary dude – always telling me how to eat my oatmeal and something about having the sugar diabe-tus. Poor guy. I’m glad my brother doesn’t look like that dude!




Perhaps it was Janet Reno. Enough said.




Or maybe it was this: a pierogi with a debatable image of Jesus on it. Maybe that is why I was so upset about my brother. Hmm…

Random Thoughts

- I could switch to crunchy peanut butter if I had to…but I wouldn’t be happy about it.

- There are plenty of Dorito flavors to choose from -- Nacho Cheese, Cool Ranch, Blazin’ Buffalo, Spicy Nacho, Ranchero, Salsa Verde, Black Pepper Jack, Fiery Habenero, Toasted Corn, Taco – but, alas, no pierogi flavor. Sorry to disappoint.

- After a record-setting blog hiatus, there is tremendous pressure for the new post to be good. I don’t give in to such pressure.

- Charleston Chews are made in Chicago, not Charleston. And there is no “Charleston” to speak of in the candy bar. What gives?

- Two things I’ve seen on vehicles lately:

(1) A painting of a horse with 'Blaze’ Forever next to it. I’m sorry your horse died, but, really, this is necessary? If you ran over your horse, then maybe.

(2) This is Why I'm Hot along the back window. Uh...what? I think maybe that is a new rap song or something. If it isn’t, it sure should be. (Note to self, record rap song called “This is Why I am Hot”)

- I think it would be funny to be a light bulb for Halloween.

-For some reason, I just thought November was a short month, like February. Senility should be an easy transition.

10 Lessons from the Road

1. After parking in the airport lot at 5 am: Signs that read “You MUST take your parking ticket with you” should not be carelessly ignored. (Further explanation that parking must be paid inside the terminal prior to returning to one’s car does not exist.)

2. In the airport: Guns don’t move people. People movers move people.

3. In the security line: 1 fluid oz of lotion is a significant threat to airline safety and must be discarded. (It seems suspicious passengers always have soft hands.)

4. While using the hotel phone (next to the toilet!): Others might not be as amused.

5. In a pinch: Shampoo. Body wash. Same thing. (Note: Shampoo. Mouth wash. Not the same thing.)

6. During snack time: Thirsty people receive a thimble-sized cup overflowing with ice. Not so thirsty people receive a giant, bottomless can that requires substantial effort to finish and will certainly be spilled.

7. While waiting to leave the plane: Cell phone conversations about pink scooters will seem strange to other passengers in the cabin.

8. After returning to the drop off area once efforts to locate one’s parked car prove futile:

(a) Desperately pointing to the crucial walkway in the sky and asking a kind stranger (with a funny accent), “But how do I get there!!!” will, no doubt, give the impression of stupidity.

(b) The inability to answer any parking-related questions, such as “Which level do you need?” or “Where is your car located?” will not help the situation.

9. When lost in the parking garage: Spotting a friend from work is a good sign. Spotting a friend from work who is also lost is a good sign that company hiring policy should, perhaps, be revised.

10. Finally, in the comfort of home: Another evening of beer and Triscuits following the sad realization that no secret refrigerator-stocking fairy visited is very disappointing.

Blogger Etiquette - Pt 1

If Emily Post were defining etiquette in the modern world, I am certain she would have quite a bit to say about blogging. And a cardinal rule for bloggers would, no doubt, be the following:

Never, ever ask people if they have read or are reading your blog.

This is a tough one to follow. I must admit I have broken that rule many times, and I apologize. But no more! You see, I’ve thought of some new ways to keep my blog on the forefront of people’s minds to ensure consistent reading.

Some examples:

1. I've got a great idea! Let’s write a list of words that rhyme with "smog"!

2. Who doesn't love a puzzle to sharpen the mind. Try this one: Change one letter in each word to create a new word.

Clip
Cl_p
Clo_
_log

3. Let’s play 10,000 Pyramid. I’ll give the clues. Ready?

It’s bigger than a breadbox…its red and gray… it’s a little dumb… it has numerous references to Oreos…it’s like a 79-hour Melissa monologue…

4. Hey I know. How about a song? I’ll teach you. Here we go:

There was a nice girl
who liked to write
and blog oh she did
oh
B-L-O-G oh!
B-L-O-G oh!
B-L-O-G oh!
and blog oh she did oh

Ok, now your turn!

_______________

With these brilliant gems, I'll never break the cardinal rule again.

Running Wild

After an extended hiatus, I’ve recently started running again. Here are some thoughts I have while doing so:

- That’s odd. There is a giant, unshapely dark patch of grass over there …oh wait, that’s my shadow.

- Hmm…looks like I missed a spot shaving.

- Left, left, left, right, left. Left, left, left, wait, where was I?

- Ok, once I round this corner I can stop and hyperventilate. I’ll be out of view from anyone who just saw me running.

- Running helps me concentr…hey look, a bunny!

- It’s been 17 minutes -- how many Oreos have I burned off?

- “Da, da, da, da, da, da, da…Ice Ice Baby. Vanilla. Ice Ice Baby...”

- I never cared for pork chops. I just never liked them.

- “Run, Forrest! Run!”

- Did I forget to add fabric softener to my laundry again?

- Just to clarify: nobody is, in fact, chasing me. Correct?

- Nope, that isn’t a turtle either.

Dream a Little Dream

Dreams can be meaningful and powerful. The interpretation of dreams - especially the significance of events, symbols, and people within dreams - is essential to understanding the self. Dreams can unlock deep secrets and emotions, subconscious desires and fears, or personal strengths and weaknesses.

I place a lot of value in the interpretation of my dreams and enjoy analyzing them. Allow me to share a recent one with you:

Somebody stole my scooter. That’s right, a scooter. It was pink. And Pink Scooter Theft 2006 was rather inconvenient. I was going somewhere and decided to stop (probably to buy beer or Peanut M&Ms). I parked, went inside, came out, and yep no scooter.

So, ok, you might be wondering, do I own a pink Vespa-like scooter? Do I long to own one? The answer to these questions is no. No scooter. No secret desire.

But I believe this is a better question: Is there any meaning in a scooter, or, more specifically, someone stealing my pink scooter? Here are some possible meanings:

1. A scooter represents my inner child, and I feel it is being taken from me. (“Pink scooter” in a Freud-inspired dream interpretation book always symbolizes the inner child.)

2. I am still madly in love with the singer Pink and haven’t moved on since our breakup.

3. I am a really bad driver and shouldn’t be driving anything, especially a wobbly pink scooter with no airbags, seatbelts, or external frame.

4. I am indulging myself too much. Stopping to buying beer or M&Ms would have been a bad idea because (a) pink scooters don’t have insulated beverage holders, and (b) any M&Ms dropped while driving a pink scooter are gone for good.

Or maybe there is no significance. So yeah somebody stole my scooter. Well whoopiteedo! Stupid meaningless pink scooter. I know it cost $700 (a steal if you ask me) because I was very upset about this. But so what? Now that I think about it I didn’t even lock up said $700 scooter. It sounds like I deserved to have it stolen!

So what is there to learn from this? Maybe it is prophetic, and one day somebody will steal my pink scooter (note to self: purchase pink scooter to test hypothesis). Or I’ll soon find $700 to compensate for my imaginary scooter loss. Or maybe I’m just cheap. Or maybe I should take more public transportation. Or maybe … I don’t know. I'm beginnning to think this whole dream thing is hogwash.

If anyone has some ideas I would love to hear them. Pink scooter, you mean nothing to me.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

September was a rough month for me. It wasn’t too dramatic or emotional, and I didn’t face any life-altering decisions. But September was difficult for another reason – I had two consecutive Ugly Weeks!

Ugly Week – N: Period of inexplicable unattractiveness. Invariably occurs in conjunction with social events with people you hope to impress, hot dates, job interviews, high school reunions, photo shoots, Nobel Prize acceptance speeches, etc. (see also: “ugly day” or “just stay home”)

The characteristics (and for your reading pleasure, within a historical context):

1. The Civil War – This is the philosophical battle within one’s hairdo. Although neither is necessarily right or wrong, the two factions just can’t seem to agree on basic issues, such as (a) Are we straight or curly? Poofy or flat? (b) What kind of texture do we think is best? or (c) In what general direction are we hoping to flow?

The war produces a Medusa-like moptop, and the only hope is a ponytail, a turban, or house arrest.

2. Yellow Fever (AKA uni-color for blondes) – Fair-skinned blondes have a tough time when Yellow Fever strikes. Yellow Fever is a dulling of pigment resulting in a lack of contrast between hair and skin, a less intense eye color, and pale lips. The result is a blob of colorless, undefined features – not so pretty.

3. The Maginot Line – The Maginot Line is critical during an Ugly Week because it is a key focal point. Maginot Line issues occur when a Civil War battle reaches the hairline, resulting in goofy cowlicks, asymmetry, or Lenny and Squiggy curls (note: ponytails only accentuate the problem). It has been clinically proven that during an Ugly Week, everyone IS, in fact, staring at the Maginot Line.

4. Western Expansion – Sometimes it is impossible to control the boundaries of the human body. Western Expansion is the sudden creep into new frontiers by the head, cheeks, or ass. Western Expansion may lead to measuring and re-measuring the diameter of one’s head or ass or frequently asking, “Does my ___ look larger than it did 5 minutes ago?” (Although nobody will admit it, I can tell by the frightened look that the answer is yes)

5. Repatriation – The cruel external force that initiates the Ugly Week is in complete control of its termination. During an Ugly Week, all efforts at improvement are rendered useless, and one will always be returned to the ugly state. Repatriation is heartbreaking. If one leaves for work looking good, one will, in fact, exhibit symptoms 1-4 by the time of arrival. Think starting over with a shower will help? Think again.

So to all of you who supported me during this time, I thank you. The Ugly Weeks have since passed (but are likely to strike again). It couldn’t have been easy for you to look at my giant head or into my drab eyes without wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

And I sincerely thank you for not asking why I started wearing a turban.

Comments, Anyone?

Ok, many people have requested that I turn on the comments feature on my bliggedy blog. So I will. However, before I do so I would like to clarify a few things.

1. Anyone could be reading my posts and your comments. This includes:

- My parents (who might read it once they recall that I actually have a blog) who still think I am a nice person
- My brother, sister, and brother-in-law who love me unconditionally…uh, sort of
- Some wonderful co-workers
- Hotties who do not know they are hotties
- Natalie Merchant (you can’t prove she isn’t reading it!)
- My “clients” who only know me as Destiny Loveless

2. Examples of comments that would be appreciated:

- Poignant. Brilliant. Stunning. A must read!
- I think of you when I sing “These are Days”
- I can’t believe you’re single!
- How you find time to blog when you have so many other meaningful things in your life is beyond me.
- I totally understood your Rhymes With Orange post and wasn’t confused at all.
- Was the song “You Light Up My Life” written about your blog? It must have been!

3. Examples of comments that would not be appreciated:

- Now that you have a blog to occupy your time, perhaps you will leave me alone.
- Since you’re seemingly healthy and able to write, I assume your infection has cleared up?
- Sheesh, no wonder you’re single!
- Is this supposed to make me laugh?
- Mom loves me more, and now I know why.

So with that said, please, anyone, feel free to write comments (with your name!), even on older posts. I would love to know who out there is reading and what your thoughts are.

Introducing…

The officially enabled comments feature. Enjoy!

A Blog By Any Other Name

I’ve recently discovered a fantastic comic strip, Rhymes With Orange, which I highly recommend to you. It’s witty, it’s funny, it’s unique. And it’s got a great name!

I find this inspiring. Regrettably, I am not inspired enough to begin writing witty, funny, or unique content myself. However, I am inspired by the name and have decided that I too should have a clever name for my creative outlet.

So in honor of Rhymes With Orange (and at the same time also ripping off some well-known movie titles) here are some ideas for the rebirth of Tales of My Ordinary Life.

- Dances With Olives
- Out of Apricot
- Fun With Lemon & Lime
- Some Like it Guava
- Gone with the Figs
- Stand By Kiwi

And coming later this fall:

- Running With Citrus