Happy Halloween!

Truth be told, this is one of my favorite holidays - does it even qualify for a holiday? I mean, we don't get the day off from work but if you qualify holidays by $$ spent on the day itself - this family of mine is usually up there - that is except for THIS year.

As most of you know, our house is for sale and we went light on the decorating this year so that we people could actually SEE the house LOL. But next year, IT'S ON. And of course, the year that i decide to scale it back, i see so many GREAT ideas. It figures. Oh well.
In honor of the holiday, and in honor of the fact that i need to actually WORK today at my real job, not my blog (sigh, one day, i will figure out how i can make my writing pay me) - i leave you with a short post and a peek into my china cabinet - the one place we actually decorated for today :)

See the blood in my crystal stemware? Isn't that the greatest? It's even better now because it seems to be evaporating and leaving a pale gross red tint on the upper half of the crystal - totally creepy and gross. PERFECT. Of course, there's always spiders and spiderwebs and rats. But blood, blood is always
good. You can't see it very well, but those red blobs on the back of the cabinet are bloody letters that spell out BEWARE...drip, drip, drip...

And a collection of skulls...must have shrunken body parts. And more blood, and creepy boney hands and fingers...and look at his tiny rat head peering over the pile of skulls in my little compote. (Funny how my Southern Living at Home catalog never showed that little compote in such a setting...hmmm....well, I think it works.)

Next year, I'm following Just A Girl's path and doing glitter bones under a bell jar and a creepy black flower arrangement for the dining room table.

I might have to even make a trip to Disney just to go through the Haunted Mansion and get even nmore ideas....Happy Trick or Treating everyone :-)

Hey mom, I can see through your head.








Whatever, you cannot.








Oh yeah I can.








Today was one of those days when you want to freeze time because you know that moments like this are fleeting.

The boys will grow up and forget, and my memory will fade.


But today, today I want to remember forever.

I want to remember how the sun felt on my face. I want to remember how the boys' laughter carried across the football field. I want to remember how my son's hand felt in mine walking across the field.

I want to remember my youngest being all serious about the game...





Ok, you go long, I"ll fake left...







Later on, after the game we went to the pumpkin patch because our absolutely fabulous fall day wouldn't be complete without picking the perfect pumpkin to bludgeon carve.





That white one just fell over as he walked up to it, it probably collapsed from fear. It knew what was about to take place.














Run Sally, he stole his head, ours might be next!







Poor Grandma...just wanted a nice quiet Saturday night ....




SILLY WOMAN, not while there are pumpkins to gut!












"I didn't know you were gonna kill it!" - Linus, It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown










All the gruesome guts cleaned up and pumpkins ready to display...

Lights OFF!








~BOO!

My pussy gave me an STD

I have gonorrhea. No, wait. Chlamydia.

See, and you were ready to just write me off for not posting this week...this is worth the wait.

No, i really don't have either of those but it is a good story. IF you're not me.

2 weeks ago this coming Saturday I wake up with a UTI. Yes, i was certain it was a UTI. I am a girl. Girls know their Vuh-jay-jays. We understand that whole 'nether world down there.

We know our period down to when it should and should not show up, we know when the cramps will set in, we know how many light, heavy and WTF (?!) tampons we're going to need at any given time. We know how we get a UTI, we know what it takes to doctor ourselves until we get a script (AZO), and we know to pee after sex to avoid them if possible. We know yeast and monistat and itch. We.know.

So when i woke up all dancin' around to pee - and like a drop came out and i STILL.HAD.TO.GO. but couldn't - i knew. And of course, it was a Saturday and my GYN doesn't call in scripts. crap. Soooooooo...field trip to the 'ole Centra Care Walk in. Just great. Explain symptoms to the new, young, let me get out the med school book doc and presto, i have a script in my hand.

I say to young, wet behind the ears, doc - "I'm allergic to Noroxin - this doesn't have the same stuff in it right - my throat closes up and i go from breathing to dead in like 5 minutes."

Young doc "Uhm, no, this is a different drug. They must not make that anymore because i googled (oh, yes, she did say that) when i saw that on your sheet for allergies and it doesn't even come up."

Well, i feel better now. Google has everything. I mean, I'd be concerned if she said she looked it up in her Encyclopedia Brittanica - but Google - I'm good, right?

So, script in hand i go to the pharmacy and hand it over to OLD pharmacist.

Me: "So, i asked the doctor if this was similar to Noroxin because i'm very allergic to that - and she said no, so this is ok for me to take, right?"

Old pharmacist peering over bifocals (old is good, old = experience): "Only if she's trying to kill you - you can't take this, it's almost the same drug. They don't make Noroxin anymore, but this has the same base - you can't take it."

Glad i asked.

So, old pharmy calls and gets a new script for me and sends me on my way.

I take the new meds, go out to dinner and continue to get worse. Over dinner, my friend Christine says not to worry - you'll feel a hundred percent better by tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes. Now i have a fever, chills and my body feels like it's been hit by a truck. This isn't 100% better. I'm pretty sure it's 180% in the opposite direction.

So, V packs me up and we go to another (yes, i'm a glutton for punishment)Centra Care. It IS Sunday remember - my only other alternative is the emergency room. But wait, i don't want to jump ahead to THAT part of the story...

We get there and i explain to the college kid behind the counter the story of what has happened thus far to get me to his doorstep (but i'm pretty sure that all he could hear was the pounding in his head from his all nighter at the clubs that probably ended an hour before his shift at the walk in.) And he instructs us to sit.

And wait.

and wait.

oh, and wait some more.

an hour later the OLD doctor comes in.

Now, see, the only thing worse to see in a walk-in clinic, besides a YOUNG doctor, in my opinion, is an OLD doctor.

Let's face it, the old doctors should either be sitting on advisory boards and planning their retirement, or golfing and brunching on Sunday mornings.

They should be WAY PAST doing their time in the 7-11 of doctor's offices. I was a little concerned.

He comes in, looks at my chart, looks at me and then looks at Vance (yes i am a baby, and yes he has to come in with me most of the time in case i die. Yes, i always take it to that extreme) and says in all seriousness. "I think i need to send you to the emergency room. I can't perform the tests that i need here, and you need attention now."

Me, not nearly as scared, as you might think by what he just threw out there: "Tests? What are you testing for exactly? I thought i had a really bad UTI."

Him, glancing at V again, and then at me, and then back to V (Good lord man, spit it out): "Well, this is a delicate conversation to have, and i'm not sure..."

Me, now just annoyed: "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"

Him: "I'm just saying that the symptoms you have indicate a sexually transmitted disease."

OK, THIS IS WHERE BOTH VANCE AND I START LAUGHING. Doc man doesn't take this too well. In fact, he seems to infer that this is our only possibility. SERIOUSLY.

So, Van says "Look, she, we, don't have VD, but if you need to do tests on her to rule that out to find out WHAT'S REALLY WRONG WITH HER - i'll take her to the ER."

And that's where we head next.

ER triage nurse: "Ok, what brings you here?"

Now, let me explain. They have triage set up RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ER WAITING ROOM. I was not about to yell "CENTRA CARE THINKS I HAVE GONORRHEA"..so i lean in and whisper "Centra care thinks i have gonorrhea" .

She leans back in her chair, giggles, rolls her eyes and says "Uhm, do YOU think you have gonorrhea?"

Me: "No, i went in thinking i have a UTI, and out i come out with VD. If i go back, I'm afraid they'll diagnose me with HIV."

Her, laughing: "Honey, no offense, i think he had good intentions, but do you have any other symptoms? You're not exactly the profile for VD."

Me: "I have no idea what other symptoms would be"

Her: "discharge?"

Me: "No." Like i said, i know my Vuh-jay-jay.

Her: "Go home, take the meds the first doctor gave you, take some motrin, and call your own doctor tomorrow am. I'm not testing you for VD, that's absurd."

Thank you kind nurse, while you made me laugh, i still don't know what the hell's wrong with me.

Next morning. Lymph nodes are like marbles under my skin and i can't get out of bed.

I call my regular doctor. In case you were wondering, he is the perfect age. Not too young, not too old. He's my age within a few months. And he's cute. And he talks with me, not to me. And he believes in a balance of eastern and western medicine. He.is.perfect.

Regular doctor says "come in now".

And i do. And i don't wait for more than 15 minutes. (Have i said he's perfect?)

I tell him the story of my no good, very bad, weekend and that i'm dying from an STD.
And he looks at me and says "well, clearly, a mother with 2 children in her late 30's living in Maitland (it IS kind of uppity little town) fits that description."

He looks at my legs and sees where my kittens have gone to town climbing up my legs like they were using a jungle gym, and says i have Bartonella, cat scratch disease.

No STD. But i did get it from my pussy. BAWAAAAAAAAAAA. sorry, couldn't resist.

Evidently, if you let Bartonella go too long without meds, it will settle in your urinary tract and manifest itself in the same manner as a UTI. Except you get the added bonus of a fever, chills and feeling even more like shit. Who knew?

So, i am on the second round of a z-pack and am almost fully recovered.

I apologize for being so absent these last few days, but give me a break - I WAS DYING PEOPLE, DYING, I SAY.span>

Advice to My Nieces

Do you remember when putting on make up was FUN?

When your lip color came from a cellophane pack of 6 bonnie bell tubes and little gloss pots of lip glosses in sugary colors?

I couldn't WAIT to dig into my stocking at Christmas because my mom would always stick those bonnie bell glosses and such in there, and i was, well, snort, like a kid at Christmas. As i got older, bonnie bell morphed into Clinque. And then eventually Estee Lauder and Victoria's Secret. (Hey, every woman should be part lady part tramp vamp.)

I still get palpitations when Christmas rolls around and all the gifts with purchase hit the counters at Macy's.

I think my niece has gotten the bug.

This is what she did to occupy herself Saturday during my boys' soccer game:


Isn't that the GREATEST lip palette EVER?? Seriously...look closely...those are LIPS holding the gloss - CUTEST.THING.EVER.




Come on, you know as well as I do that if you got to pull out an artist's pallete of frosty lip glosses and cool blue eyeshadows and it didn't matter that you looked like a Walgreen's hooker, you'ld be all dolled up at work EVERYDAY.

Well, my dear sweet girls - it's official, you're girly girls and I think it's wonderful. As you grow into young women, embrace your femininity, it's a beautiful thing. Love your body, love getting dressed up and enjoy all of those little pots of wonder. Just know with or without those magic bottles and glosses, you're still amazing.

I saw these words below, and while you're too young to care now, eventually it will matter to you what some young man thinks. I feel lucky enough to have found someone that does all of these things and you're special enough to hold out for someone like this - always keep this in mind:



“Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky his is to have you.... The one who turns to his friends and says, 'that's her.' "

The Difference Between a Playmate and a Wife

Thing 1, going through the mail for xmas catalogs: "...when is the ToysRus book coming, it's Octo......Whooooaaa howdy...!"

Ok, not sure i want to know what sparked those last two words..

Oh for fuck's sake. He's got V's Playboy magazine that came in the mail. Don't panic. He can smell fear. Calmly ask him if he can put that down and help you set the table....

Me: "Uhm sweet pea, kind of need some help here with the plates - can you put that down and grab them?" Yeah, that's good...nice and calm. We don't want him to think it's contraband, then i'll surely find it in his sticky little hands later. Ewww. scratch sticky. bad choice of words. And i certainly don't want him thinking that the naked body is bad...let's handle this delicately...

T1, eyes WIDE, as the centerfold falls open.

Me: "HONEY, I asked you to PUT THAT DOWN AND HELP ME SET THE TABLE. That is not for your eyes." Please don't ask me whose eyes it's for...

T1, putting magazine back on top of mail: "Mom...?" Joseph, Mary and Jesus....here it comes...dammmmmit...

Me: "Yes..."

T1: "V knows what you look like naked, why does he need to see this?".

Me: "Good question, babe, good question. I'm sure it's for the articles."

T1: "What are articles?" Yeah, i'm kind of sure Vance would ask that same question...

Later, over dinner, conversation turns to T2....

T2:"...and then Nicholas said that I was stupid and lame."

Me: "Really??"

T2: "Yeah, and I think HE'S the stupid one. He's the one that says this girl in class is his girlfriend, but he can't call her that because she HATES him."

Me: "Right...that would make her a wife..."

T2: "..huh?"

Me: "...nevermind..."

I can't make this sh*t up.

"...She dared to bring her gift of healing into an underworld of thieves, drug addicts, murderers!"

Golly. What will our heroin do next? Does she take her doctor's bag to the street to bring her gift of healing to the homeless?

I know! She takes over the boys and girls home as head mistress and fights the city to keep the home open! No?...

This? This is her new adventure..?!?

...a world class men's club.

nooooo.....it can't be!

A strip club!?!?

This woman must have one helluva of an on-call schedule...

Bless her heart, she's caring for the elderly.

..and she's feeding the hungry too!

This woman is heading into Nobel Peace Prize territory.

I wonder, does she carry shots for everything that shots can still get rid of...?....and..i bet there's purel in that bag...ONE CAN NEVER BE TOO CLEAN you know....oh, and Plan B for the strippers other caring women in the establishment. Does medicaid cover this?