Heather always used to laugh at me when I would walk in the office and the first word out of my mouth was "Sorry." But I was ALWAYS late, so I was always sorry. On a weird tangent, I had a high school teacher would always say, "Don't be sorry, just don't do it again." He was NOT a religious man, but I think that could very well be a gospel principle.
Moving on. The reason I'm sorry is that I can't believe it's been a week since I've posted. I'll always look at the blogs of others and be like "WHAT IS THEIR PROBLEM!?!? THEY HAVEN'T PUT UP ANYTHING IN SO LONG!" And look, I am now one of "those" people.
I guess I didn't have anything cool to post, and so I think that if I don't have a good story then I can't say anything. I should start telling embarrassing stories from my youth/childhood/college days. Heaven knows I have PLENTY of those. But Reagan and Judd will have to skim those, I'm sure they've heard all my embarrassing stories. But don't worry ladies, we know more are coming soon. They happen on a DAILY basis. (I would start telling them more often, but most of them involve my pants falling down at work and other such atrocities that no one really wants to think about)
But I had a few things happen to me that I thought you would all enjoy. Well, maybe not ENJOY, but at least you wouldn't have nightmares about them. Speaking of nightmares, that is my first story. I believe it's due to the fact that we are going to be surprised about the baby's sex. But both Marcelo and I have been having lots of dreams about the baby. The other night I had a dream that I gave birth not to a boy and not to a girl, but instead to a real live Gloworm.
For those of you who weren't allowed to watch TV growing up, here is what a Gloworm is. I never had one, but I always wanted one. Being poor growing up, however, this was not possible.
And then Marcelo had a dream Sunday night. He said that we had a boy, but the baby's head hadn't formed all the way, and it had a hole scooped out of the side of it's head. Like someone had wanted a scoop of Baby Loor flavored ice cream, and had decided to take it from the head.
So if any of you have dealt with Latinos, you know that they are a VERY superstitious people. They don't take dreams lightly and so I was a little worried when he told me about his dream. Like when we bought a pig together when I was down in Ecuador, and it died 6 months later. He didn't want to tell me about it becuase he thought the pig symbolized us and our relationship. See? Superstitious, I told you so.
So I asked him what he thought the dream meant. He totally floored me and said, "Oh, probably nothing. It's just a dream." (Is it weird that I'm a little sad that he's becoming so Americanized? I mean, It's not like I want him to kill a chicken on our back porch and then ask me to cook it for dinner. But I miss the little things that came with him from Ecuador. Sad.) Hoping to get some of that Latino superstition out of him, I asked him if he was worried about the dream. Well, he follows up the comment by flooring me YET AGAIN and saying "No, not really. I think that the dream made me realize that even if there are problems with the baby, we will be able to handle it"
When did my husband become all wise and not crazy Latino superstition guy telling me to cure my headache by pressing a lemon to my forehead? (My husband never said, that, by the way. I got that little ditty from another crazy Latino woman) Well, needless to say that I will have to come to terms with my new wise Confucius-like husband and his very sensible comprehension of dreams.
My second story is, of course, about food. For breakfast, I went to the Maverick gas station and got a nice cup of Hot Chocolate (with hazelnut creamer, of course) and a bag of Corn Nuts. I enjoyed those Nuts all throughout the day, but I've now discovered that I need to eat them with a spoon. They fall under the popcorn/Cheeto's category now: I don't like the residue on my fingers so I'll be using a spoon from now on.
Well, we all know where a bag of Corn Nuts and a hot chocolate led me: That's right, say it with me people. . .Horrible corn nuts breath. Nothing could be done because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off today without a minute to myself. I kept trying to sneak away and go brush my teeth with the toothbrush I keep in my desk for situations such as these. Well, actually I've never had a Corn Nuts/Hot chocolate situation at work before. I usually use it when I forget to brush my teeth before I leave the house. And let me tell you, that toothbrush is my favorite!! Nothing like having clean teeth in the middle of the day.
But due to the fact that my "get it done" (YEAH RIGHT!) boss was calling me every 20 seconds to fix it things for her, I didn't have any chance to use my favorite pink toothbrush. What infuriated me was that when I told her how to fix the thing, she wouldn't listen to me. So I had to explain it to her step by step very SLOWLY and then when she couldn't get it, I had to go in and do it for her. Yeah, right. ("Get it done" my ass!)
But enough about my boss. I whine about her plenty enough as it is. Let me tell you another funny work story. I had to stop payment on a check by calling Zions Bank. The funny thing is that the check was only for $50, and to stop payment was a fee of $25. But I do what I'm told. So when I called the bank, the lady asked me what the check number was and who the check was made out to. I told her it was made out to "National Republican Congressional Committee."
And then I thought about what if I were trying to cancel a check for something really embarrassing? Like a subscription to "Large, Buff Men Quarterly" or a prescription for "Toe Fungal Salve" or my subscription to licorice of the month. (Jean actually gets that. You may all make fun of her starting. . . . NOW!)
When my brother used to work for the Bank of America people would call in and try to cancel certain charges on their account. Like if someone wouldn't give them their money back, they would try to call and dispute it and say that it was a "fraudulent" charge. So my brother was like "well, you didn't report the card stolen. And it looks like since that charge it has been used quite a bit. Would you like to explain that?" And then they would fold like a cheap suit. Did I mention that half the time he was doing this in Spanish? Good times.
One last totally non-related story (I could go on telling ridiculous non-related stories like this forever) I wear knee highs under my work pants. I don't pull them up to my knee, because that annoys me. So I take that part that cuts off your circulation, and I fold it down and put it right nice on my ankle. Well, when I took it off yesterday, that part had folded on top of it's self and was DIGGING into my ankle. I had like a full on LINE from the nylons. Does everyone know what pitted edema is? Well, that's what my ankles looked like. It was DELICIOUS to look at and touch.
And then today, as I was walking around my house preparing dinner, I felt something "funny" on my lower leg. I thought that maybe my pants were falling down again, but then I realized that I wasn't WEARING any pants. So I look down at my leg as I walk and discover that it's me!! It's my leg fat/lower leg water retention!! MY ANKLES ARE JIGGLING AS I WALK!!! Now, I am used to leg or arm or a belly jiggle every once in a while. But an ANKLE jiggle? Well, that's just depressing. And let's be honest: They are more like CANKLES now.
So, to wrap up this very random post: I didn't have a Gloworm growing up, Marcelo has become wise, I have spent FAR too much at the Maverick these last few days, I subscribe to some sketchy magazines and my feet fat jiggles as I walk. It's been a good day.
And one last thing, I promise, I would like to send a very special "request and dedication" to my two bestest of best friends Judd and Reagan. I am so blessed to have you both in my life, and I just want you to know how much I love you. If either of you ever needed it, I would happily donate a kidney, or a piece of my liver, or one of my eyebrows to each one (or both!) of you. A girl considers herself lucky to have someone in her life that she can turn to at any moment, and I am blessed with two of you. I have an idea. Lets all get matching stretch marks somewhere on our bodies to cement our enduring friendship. I've already gotten mine, so it's up to you two to do it now. GO!
I love you two.
Moving on. The reason I'm sorry is that I can't believe it's been a week since I've posted. I'll always look at the blogs of others and be like "WHAT IS THEIR PROBLEM!?!? THEY HAVEN'T PUT UP ANYTHING IN SO LONG!" And look, I am now one of "those" people.
I guess I didn't have anything cool to post, and so I think that if I don't have a good story then I can't say anything. I should start telling embarrassing stories from my youth/childhood/college days. Heaven knows I have PLENTY of those. But Reagan and Judd will have to skim those, I'm sure they've heard all my embarrassing stories. But don't worry ladies, we know more are coming soon. They happen on a DAILY basis. (I would start telling them more often, but most of them involve my pants falling down at work and other such atrocities that no one really wants to think about)
But I had a few things happen to me that I thought you would all enjoy. Well, maybe not ENJOY, but at least you wouldn't have nightmares about them. Speaking of nightmares, that is my first story. I believe it's due to the fact that we are going to be surprised about the baby's sex. But both Marcelo and I have been having lots of dreams about the baby. The other night I had a dream that I gave birth not to a boy and not to a girl, but instead to a real live Gloworm.
For those of you who weren't allowed to watch TV growing up, here is what a Gloworm is. I never had one, but I always wanted one. Being poor growing up, however, this was not possible.So in my dream my baby had no arms, (I guess I didn't remember those little arm shoots from my childhood) no legs, but it was so happy and I loved it anyway.
** Begin Tangent. What would Baby Loor flavored ice cream taste like? I'm guessing a little bit like mango, and a lot like Salsa! Did anyone read those books "Sideways Stories from Wayside School" growing up? By Louis Sacher? And in the first one they had a teacher who made a flavor for every child in the class. Some were sweet, some tart. I just always wondered what my flavor would taste like. I'm ESPECIALLY wondering now what my baby's flavor would taste like. Tangent over**
So I asked him what he thought the dream meant. He totally floored me and said, "Oh, probably nothing. It's just a dream." (Is it weird that I'm a little sad that he's becoming so Americanized? I mean, It's not like I want him to kill a chicken on our back porch and then ask me to cook it for dinner. But I miss the little things that came with him from Ecuador. Sad.) Hoping to get some of that Latino superstition out of him, I asked him if he was worried about the dream. Well, he follows up the comment by flooring me YET AGAIN and saying "No, not really. I think that the dream made me realize that even if there are problems with the baby, we will be able to handle it"
When did my husband become all wise and not crazy Latino superstition guy telling me to cure my headache by pressing a lemon to my forehead? (My husband never said, that, by the way. I got that little ditty from another crazy Latino woman) Well, needless to say that I will have to come to terms with my new wise Confucius-like husband and his very sensible comprehension of dreams.
My second story is, of course, about food. For breakfast, I went to the Maverick gas station and got a nice cup of Hot Chocolate (with hazelnut creamer, of course) and a bag of Corn Nuts. I enjoyed those Nuts all throughout the day, but I've now discovered that I need to eat them with a spoon. They fall under the popcorn/Cheeto's category now: I don't like the residue on my fingers so I'll be using a spoon from now on.
Well, we all know where a bag of Corn Nuts and a hot chocolate led me: That's right, say it with me people. . .Horrible corn nuts breath. Nothing could be done because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off today without a minute to myself. I kept trying to sneak away and go brush my teeth with the toothbrush I keep in my desk for situations such as these. Well, actually I've never had a Corn Nuts/Hot chocolate situation at work before. I usually use it when I forget to brush my teeth before I leave the house. And let me tell you, that toothbrush is my favorite!! Nothing like having clean teeth in the middle of the day.
But due to the fact that my "get it done" (YEAH RIGHT!) boss was calling me every 20 seconds to fix it things for her, I didn't have any chance to use my favorite pink toothbrush. What infuriated me was that when I told her how to fix the thing, she wouldn't listen to me. So I had to explain it to her step by step very SLOWLY and then when she couldn't get it, I had to go in and do it for her. Yeah, right. ("Get it done" my ass!)
But enough about my boss. I whine about her plenty enough as it is. Let me tell you another funny work story. I had to stop payment on a check by calling Zions Bank. The funny thing is that the check was only for $50, and to stop payment was a fee of $25. But I do what I'm told. So when I called the bank, the lady asked me what the check number was and who the check was made out to. I told her it was made out to "National Republican Congressional Committee."
And then I thought about what if I were trying to cancel a check for something really embarrassing? Like a subscription to "Large, Buff Men Quarterly" or a prescription for "Toe Fungal Salve" or my subscription to licorice of the month. (Jean actually gets that. You may all make fun of her starting. . . . NOW!)
When my brother used to work for the Bank of America people would call in and try to cancel certain charges on their account. Like if someone wouldn't give them their money back, they would try to call and dispute it and say that it was a "fraudulent" charge. So my brother was like "well, you didn't report the card stolen. And it looks like since that charge it has been used quite a bit. Would you like to explain that?" And then they would fold like a cheap suit. Did I mention that half the time he was doing this in Spanish? Good times.
One last totally non-related story (I could go on telling ridiculous non-related stories like this forever) I wear knee highs under my work pants. I don't pull them up to my knee, because that annoys me. So I take that part that cuts off your circulation, and I fold it down and put it right nice on my ankle. Well, when I took it off yesterday, that part had folded on top of it's self and was DIGGING into my ankle. I had like a full on LINE from the nylons. Does everyone know what pitted edema is? Well, that's what my ankles looked like. It was DELICIOUS to look at and touch.
And then today, as I was walking around my house preparing dinner, I felt something "funny" on my lower leg. I thought that maybe my pants were falling down again, but then I realized that I wasn't WEARING any pants. So I look down at my leg as I walk and discover that it's me!! It's my leg fat/lower leg water retention!! MY ANKLES ARE JIGGLING AS I WALK!!! Now, I am used to leg or arm or a belly jiggle every once in a while. But an ANKLE jiggle? Well, that's just depressing. And let's be honest: They are more like CANKLES now.
So, to wrap up this very random post: I didn't have a Gloworm growing up, Marcelo has become wise, I have spent FAR too much at the Maverick these last few days, I subscribe to some sketchy magazines and my feet fat jiggles as I walk. It's been a good day.
And one last thing, I promise, I would like to send a very special "request and dedication" to my two bestest of best friends Judd and Reagan. I am so blessed to have you both in my life, and I just want you to know how much I love you. If either of you ever needed it, I would happily donate a kidney, or a piece of my liver, or one of my eyebrows to each one (or both!) of you. A girl considers herself lucky to have someone in her life that she can turn to at any moment, and I am blessed with two of you. I have an idea. Lets all get matching stretch marks somewhere on our bodies to cement our enduring friendship. I've already gotten mine, so it's up to you two to do it now. GO!
I love you two.
4 comments:
i'm all over it. i have a lovely array of butt stretch-marks if you'd like a selection to choose from. how about haunch? my only pregnancy stretch-mark is the one on my butt. i think you'd like it. it'd sort of be like our cabbage patch "Xavier Roberts" signature. and thanks for the eye-brow offer. i am a Judd and therefore was born with just one eyebrow---a very long and bushy one which extends from one eye to the other. it's more of a visor than an eyebrow. so, if you would give me one of yours, then i could cut out that pesky plucking and just place your beautiful eyebrow above my unnatural one. that would be nice. i love your guts and i would do anything for you. anyone reading this blog is lucky enough to be your friend and should remember that daily.
That was SO worth the wait! Just try not to wait another week. I don't even care about posting on my blog as long as you are posting on yours! Keep it coming, sista!
Love ya girl!
the dream dictionary says: To see a baby in your dream, signifies innocence, warmth and new beginnings. Babies may symbolize something in your own inner nature which is pure, vulnerable, and/or uncorrupted. Babies may represent an aspect of yourself that is vulnerable and helpless.
I love you back!
My embarrassing story starts with a visit to my aunt. After chatting with her for about an hour I went out to my car to grab something.
At this point in the story I should mention that my aunt's house is very distinctive, but the house next door could be its identical twin. It was dark out so I didn’t notice that the house I casually walked into was a different color than my aunts. When I got inside I remember thinking that I didn’t remember a chair next to the door, but I dismissed the thought and proceeded upstairs. When I got up there I heard a voice that obviously wasn’t my aunts yelling, “Is that you Bob?”
I immediately realized that I was in the wrong house, and the woman who lived there thought I was her husband. I didn’t stick around to explain the mix up. I left as quickly and as quietly as I could, hoping I wouldn’t run into the husband as I made my escape.
I’ve never seen my aunt laugh so hard when I told her.
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