Doctor's rounds, Part 1

Recently, I went to see my gynecologist.

That sound you heard was my two male readers running away... Seriously, I'm not going to share TMI. Though I did live-tweet my visit. Complete with a photo of "completely undressed" me in the exam room. See what you miss if you don't follow me on Twitter?

Anyways, my new primary care doctor, as I mentioned before, is trying to straighten out my migraines, which involves a new medicine that decreases the effectiveness of my birth control pills so I was discussing alternate baby-preventative methods with the gynecologist. After my appointment, I had the following conversation via text with Joe, aka my husband (that tidbit of information for the benefit of anyone who might be new here and think I might have this conversation with Joe, the guy who mows my lawn or Joe, the guy who does our taxes):

me: talked to the doc about the BCP situation
Joe: what did she say?
me: she agrees they won't work as well
Joe: and?
me: she recommends I get a DUI
Joe: wtf?
me: yeah, not sure how i feel about that
Joe: she really recommended that?
me: i know. i hate the idea. my sister had one, she was miserable
long pause
Joe: i'm sure
me: she gave me a pamphlet, they recommend them after you already have a kid usually
Joe: haha, i bet they do
me: there can be a lot of complications and discomfort
Joe: uh huh
me: ???
Joe: look at what you sent me
me: huh?
Joe: look back
me: dammit!!!!
Joe: that must be some dr you're seeing!

Spellcheck can seriously bite me. My doctor did NOT recommend that I be arrested for drunk driving. She recommended an IUD as an alternate method of birth control. Which I'm not sure about. Also not sure that the migraine meds are working at this point so I'm not rushing into a 5-yr implanted birth control solution when a temporary one will do just fine until we're more sure these meds are a long-term thing.

Also, to be clear, my sister had an IUD, not a DUI. She doesn't even drink. Not that any of you know my sister or that my sister reads this blog. But, you know, I still feel the need to clarify.

P.S. Want to know how to transition into twice a week posting? Write one really long post, realize it's really long, and then just make it a two-parter. You can consider that piece of amazing advice yours for free.

Review: My Artist's Way Toolkit

More than any other campaign BlogHer has contacted me about, I was excited about reviewing "My Artist's Way Toolkit". Due to that high level of excitement, I experienced a corresponding high level of disappointment. But this is NOT a diss on the toolkit at all. In fact, read on and you'll see a lot of praise in my post.

"The Artist's Way" - the book

A few months ago, I decided to check out "The Artist's Way," Julia Cameron's original book and method that became almost a religion for many creatives, primarily for writers, looking to "heal" their creativity and boost themselves into awesomeness. Since I wanted to get serious again about my writing after a bit of a stall, this seemed like a great approach. You can't take a writing course without "The Artist's Way" being mentioned as recommended reading.

I got the book and started out through the 12-week course with a friend. Each week consists of a reading and some small tasks. In addition, you are supposed to write Morning Pages each morning - just brain-dumping for three pages each morning by hand to get the gunk out - and go on a weekly Artist Date to ignite some creativity.

I managed to get behind because of other things going on but in general, I found a lot of value in each chapter. For awhile, I was very good about my morning pages. And then I stalled out big-time about a month ago. I still feel like I learned a lot and plan to go back to it very soon.

"My Artist's Way Toolkit" - the online site

I'm still not sure what role the online My Artist's Way Toolkit is supposed to play in the creative healing process. Is it instead of the book? In addition to the book? A community of people using these techniques? The site guides you through many of the same tasks that are in the book - Morning Pages, creative affirmations/soundbites, a contract with yourself and exercises.

What I had really hoped to gain from the online site was a community of other creatives to share with and learn from. Unfortunately, the "community" link inside the Toolkit site goes to a public site that has free forums (you don't have to be a Toolkit member) - and those forums are not very active at all.

I feel like, having already established a routine with the book, I didn't find much of value on the Toolkit site. It was a lot of the book things put online in a slightly more prescribed manner (ex. the site suggests specific activities for Artist Dates). And yet, without the very valuable weekly readings, the site doesn't really stand on its own. The real meat of the Way here is contained in those chapters.

My Recommendation

I really like "The Artist's Way" book and methods - I do recommend the book. For agreeing to do this review, I received a 3-month membership to "My Artist's Toolkit" - it costs $4.99/month otherwise. I personally didn't see any benefit to the website since I already had the book and an established routine.
I'm actually hoping that I missed something major (I'll be reading some of the other BlogHer participants' reports as well as following the discussions on BlogHer) so I can write a retraction.

P.S. There is a spiritual aspect to the book and I plan to write about that soon - look for it either tomorrow or Monday. I'll also address the way I study most instruction guides/self-help books/how-to blogs/etc.

P.P.S. I was compensated for this BlogHer Book Club review but all opinions expressed are my own.

Esteem

Earlier this morning, chatting while watching last night's episode of The Sing-Off...

me: why are panels of judges always 'esteemed'?
SomeMonkey: bc it's a vague term and "talented" and "successful" are not

Ahh, good point. Though, I expect nothing less from SomeMonkey.

I think it would be more entertaining if panels of judges were steamed instead. Sitting out there at their table with product-placement soft drinks (spiked during the commercial breaks), completely aggravated and hating life. Hmm, now that I think about it, that's not so far off probably.

And, a bit o' #reverb10:

Day #10 Prompt: Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out? - Susannah Conway (@photobird)

Without a doubt, the wisest decision I made this year was to start making myself a priority. Blah blah again about resigning from my job but the first step was deciding to go back to school. I took a really aggressive approach and it's almost done now but even when I was stressed or feeling overwhelmed, I loved it. It felt amazing to be in a focused learning frame of mind for the past few months.

Now, to figure out how to sustain that into the new year.

Punishable by Death

Bart calls Moe's Bar.

Moe: Hello?
Pause
Moe: Uh, is I.P. Freely here? Hey, everybody, I.P. Freely!
Bart: Bwahahahaha!

So I have a confession. I pee frequently. Not freely, mind you. Just frequently.

This is my father's fault. As a child, every time we would go anywhere, he'd ask me if I had used the bathroom first. In fact, he insisted that I always used the bathroom before I got in the car.

Once I was old enough to start giving this some thought, I asked why.

My father, my hero, said, "Well, once there was a family in a car accident. They all would've survived. Except they didn't pee before they left home so when their car crashed, their bladders all burst, causing them to die. And that's why it's so important for you to use the bathroom before you get in the car, every time. Also, you never know if the place you're going even has a bathroom. Or if you might be stuck in traffic. The longer you go without going, the greater the chances that your bladder might burst!"

At thirty-ahemthroatclearing-years old, guess what? I still run to the restroom EVERY time we go somewhere, every time there is an opportunity. Because some part of me is still afraid that I might get in an accident and I'll die. Or that I might end up in the Land of No Bathrooms.

Why am I sharing this? This past weekend, Joe and I took a road trip from our undisclosed location. We were on the road for several hours. And at (almost) every rest area, Joe would ask if I needed to stop. "No!" I would proclaim, somehow proud of something so stupid as not needing every restroom (Sidebar: This is actually quite an accomplishment for a girl who has had to stop frequently in the past due to the travel anxiety making me sick as hell).

So proud, so awesome. That is, until we pulled off the highway and onto the country sideroads. Aka, The Land of No Bathrooms. Which resulted in this tweet:

Tired of being in the car. And of course I didn't have to pee until we left the highway. No rest areas here. Just tractors.

To which the ever-wise Beth from C. Beth Blog responded thusly:

Yeah, I suppose a farmer would get mad if you peed in his tractor.

Totally true.

So I realize the whole "you're gonna die if you don't pee before we leave the house" was probably just my father's misguided way of avoiding unscheduled pit-stops on the road. Probably it isn't true that your bladder will burst and you will die. However, being so desperate that you resort to peeing on a farmer's tractor? That might not be a traffic accident, but it could still result in death if it makes the farmer angry enough. I guess Dad is always right, even if it's for the wrong reasons.

The Numbers Game

This post is a rambly response to C. Beth's post today (Two is enough). She talks about the ages of her children and how she's really enjoying the level of development each has reached. Rather than feel baby fever, she's very content with the two adorable children she has been blessed to raise. She ended the post by asking how we feel about the number of kids we do or don't have.

Unless you're new here, you know that the number of kids I have is zero. It's complicated. I always wanted kids (probably two). Then I didn't want kids until later. Now that it's later, I just don't know anymore. My vision of what I do or don't want is clouded by emotional and physical issues that seem impossible to sort out.

That made me think about my experience growing up and the number of siblings I had.

I grew up as one of three children. I was the oldest by 5 years, with my brother and sister being only 2 years apart. For years, I was the spoiled only grandchild. Then came Rob and Tina.

I often felt left out as they played together. As the years passed, I then resented that since the "younger" kids were the majority, most of our activities were more age-appropriate for them. At 13, I was over Halloween. At 15, Chuck E Cheese wasn't my idea of a good time. By 16, I was tired of babysitting and dragging them around and being responsible for them.

This is why I think kids should come roughly in pairs. If there had been two older kids and two younger kids, it would've been okay. Of course, those of you who know me best know why that's an even bigger issue for me.

Here are some other reasons I believe two children is a good number:

• no more kids than you have hands to hold
• they shouldn't outnumber you and the other parent
• most homes have 3 bedrooms
• food items (and most everything else) come in even numbers (if there's an odd number, that means one for mama!)
• noone has to sit in the stupid middle seat in the car

So there, some random thoughts about kids, families, numbers, and product packaging. Go read Beth's post and let her know what you think.

Cate Inserts Witty Title Here

Cate's busy trying to work. She seems to think that productivity is in direct proportion to number of monitors, but I think she's taken it a bit far.  She tells me she currently has 4 laptops, an external monitor, and a tv to use as a monitor on her desk.

This is where I had inserted a photo that I stole from Cate of her setup, but then she made me take it out. Suffice to say, lots of monitors. Tons, even.

No, seriously Cate, that qualifies as "excessive".

So I'm like, "they are so going to think you really died this time, I'm gonna write something for you." And then she said, "I really don't want your crap showing up on my blog, but okay."

The only thing I was lacking was a topic- I think it's the thing that keeps most of us bloggers from posting every day. So I foisted that responsibility onto her, and she immediately came back with- and this is true- "murdering cats". This could just be because of that video that has gone viral (a term I had to actually explain to my computer programming husband) of that psycho b##ch* dumping the cat in the bin, but more likely it's because Tonya is causing chaos while Cate is trying to work from home. Probably because Cate stole Tonya's television for use as a monitor. Still, Tonya can't possibly be slowing things down as much as Cate's Drama Llama boss does.

So... murdering cats. I don't know too much on the subject.

The Bloggess says you can make mittens out of kittens. Possibly she is taking a slightly different stance since her dog died several days ago (which, by the way, is the sad thing that Cate sent me with the inappropriate emoticon).

My cat died a couple of years ago, but I did not murder him. I cannot stress that enough. True, we do not know what the actual cause was. But what kind of mother would leave the murdered family pet to be discovered by the children? Not even I am that bad a parent. No, seriously.

When I was little, we kept our pet bunnies out on the porch in a hutch. The neighbor dogs came over in the middle of the night and ripped them apart. I know that's not cats, but that absolutely qualifies as murder. Especially to a four year old.

And... I'm out. That's all the pet-slaughter I can wrap even my perverse brain around.

What a disgusting topic. Blame Cate.

*I censored myself! That's just for Cate because she doesn't swear. Here, anyway.

Note from Cate: This post submitted by SomeMonkey. She's totally saving my blogging arse (since I don't do that swearing thing here) lately. And all of my other collective arses as well. Also, I think I was supposed to actually insert a witty title. But I'm just THAT busy. Except, then she wasted even MORE of my work time by making me edit. Seriously, woman.

Gift Ideas for My Husband

Every year, I struggle with what to buy my husband as a birthday gift. His birthday isn't until January but thanks to a helpful comment on his Birthday post from 2009, I now have a headstart on ideas for next year!

I like use viagra, but this no good in my life, so viagra no good.

I often wonder what inspires a spam comment such as this, especially on older posts. And now I wonder why they think my husband needs viagra.

P.S. I'm also wondering if all the mentions of viagra in this post will inspire MORE viagra-related spam. One can hope, right?

P.P.S. Joe's out of town so I haven't talked to him and he usually reads my blog about a month after I write something but I'm going to go out on a limb and guess he would like me to clarify that he does NOT need viagra. With all the wondering going on in this post, he'd probably prefer you not wonder about that.

P.P.P.S. I'd also prefer you not be thinking at all about my husband's, err, viagra-related parts. But it's probably too late for that now. Perverts.

P.S. to INFINITY!!! ;)

Packing List

Once again, I am leaving on another trip full of family, anxiety, and vomiting adventure and fun! We're attending Joe's HS reunion and visiting a bunch of family on a whirlwind four-day weekend.

Because I have so much to do, and since SomeMonkey is such a good friend (and totally not an axe-murderer), she offered to make my packing list for me. Here's what she came up with:

12 mini bottles of gin
1 mini bottle of sweaty tonic
1 gigundo bottle of xanax
whore-eyes makeup
3 pairs of shorts
3 tops
6 pairs of underwear
that skanky dress
deodorant
sandals
1 regular bra
1 spectacular bra
the outfit you want joe to actually wear
kindle
25 dollar bills for strip club
2 bags pretzel m&ms
those badass baked potato chips from trader joe's
1 bumpit

Wow, really? What kind of list is that? Does she not know me at all?

"Sweaty tonic" is what she calls the tonic Joe likes because she can't remember the correct name. It's called "Fever Tree" so close enough.

I have no idea what's up with all the skanky clothes and make-up. A bumpit? My hair must've looked worse than I thought when we met for brunch if she thinks a bumpit would be an improvement.

The pretzel M&Ms are for Joe. And I'm pretty sure the chips are for her. Which means I'm supposed to survive on gin.

Yeah, I guess she does know me well!

P.S. I'll be gone Friday through Monday. I'll have Gwen though I expect to have limited coverage. Six Word Saturday will happen tomorrow as usual.

A Friendly Reminder

Recent email I received at work:

Dear Cate,
This is a friendly reminder that you have signed up for a free glucose and cholesterol screening on Tuesday at 8:30am. blahblahblah

Here's what I want to know - why doesn't anyone ever send me an unfriendly reminder? Something more like this:

OMG Cate, seriously, try not to forget you have a health screening on Tuesday!

Or even a step further - a totally hostile reminder:

Cate, if you don't show up for your scheduled screening on Tuesday, I'm going to have to track you down and punch you in the face!

Those are much more interesting reminders.

Not to mention, this so-called friendly reminder wasn't overly friendly. Just factual. Complete failure on the part of our HR department.

Party Girl

Ever party so hard you don't even remember it?

me: Hello?
StrangeDude: Hey, LaShonda?
me: No, I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number. What number are you calling?
StrangeDude: (reads out my number)
me: That's this number but it's my cellphone. No LaShonda here, sorry.
StrangeDude: Are you playing with me? You don't remember me from bar name last night?
me: I wasn't there last night. I was at home.
StrangeDude: You were pretty drunk. Maybe you just don't remember.
me: I'd remember not being home. And if she was that drunk, maybe that explains how she gave you the wrong number?
StrangeDude: No, this is definitely the right number. Why are you messing with me? You said to call!
me: Sorry, mister, but it's not the right number and I never told you to call me because I was not at the bar last night.
StrangeDude: You know, you don't really sound like a LaShonda.
me: That's because I'm not.
StrangeDude: So, umm, wanna meet me at bar name tonight?
me: Sure. I'll bring my husband.
StrangeDude: Nevermind. click

That's actually the second time a stranger has invited me to a bar. And the second time the offer was rescinded when I said I'd come but bring my husband.

Must be Joe's reputation precedes him.

Man's Best Friend

SomeMonkey: Ellen just showed a video
a dog ran a mile and a half from his home
which was on fire
and led a police car to it
me: wow
SomeMonkey: and then ran back to the mile and a half away intersection
and led the fire truck
that's the dog i need
me: and then ran back and got hit by the ambulance?
SomeMonkey: lmao
evil
straight to hell
me: sorry

Except I wasn't really sorry. I thought it was pretty funny. Don't all of these stories end with the dog dying before the end credits?

Migraine Rhymes With Pain (Not a Coincidence)

Note: I didn't write a post for today. And I don't feel like writing one. So instead I'm pulling this post out of the drafts and publishing without really looking it over again because I don't even feel like editing a post.

This post makes more sense if you watch the show Lost. But it doesn't discuss any spoilers. And it still might not be funny.

Last week, I experienced one hell of a migraine. Truthfully, I'm surprised I was able to gain control of it without heading into the emergency room for shots. Grateful, though. It's always preferable to avoid hours wasted in the ER while they inject chemicals into my booty.

One of the side effects of migraines (for me - they vary greatly for each person) is dysnomia. You may remember seeing it in action before, back when I tried to buy celery. Anyways, that inability to recall the correct word is called dysnomia. Here's an example from my recent migraine adventure:

chixor: NO LOST NEXT WEEK
me: yeah, wth up with no lost last week
err, next week
dysnomia ftw
chixor: are you time travelling now too?
am i talking to sideways cate or real timeline cate
me: alternate universe cate
chixor: lol
me: I've gone "off-island"
and by "off-island", i mean "completely cuckoo"

So at least she was able to give me a laugh over my mix up. And if I could time travel alongside Desmond? Rawr! Sign me up for more migraines!

Have a Great Trip!

It's been awhile since I've blogged about the crazy that lives inside my mother. Lucky for us all, she emailed me last week so I have an opportunity to share!

I had emailed her first, actually, to make sure my sister knew about the recall on baby slings. I mentioned that we were busy preparing for our trip. So of course she told us to have a great time and to enjoy the trip had to assume we're going to die:

Do you guys have a will made out? Having an executor in case something did happen would make it easier for us.

Easier for them how exactly? Easier for them to make off with our stuff? Easier for them to get their hands on our cash?

Yes, Joe and I have Wills. We had them made up after we bought the house because it came to our attention that in our undisclosed location without a Will, despite the fact that we have been married for a gazillion years, my parents would actually be entitled to half of my estate.

What?!?! Oh, HELL no.

So yes, we made up Wills. If one of us goes before the other, it all goes to the surviving spouse. If we should die at the same time, it's specified differently:

• I left money to have my body disposed of put where I want it to go.
• I left small sums to each of my family members - enough for them to purchase airfare and accommodations to attend a small memorial service.
• I left the rest to various charitable organizations.

Why can't I have a normal mother? The kind that tells you to have fun, take lots of pictures, bring them back an awesome souvenir? Why do I have to have the one that basically says I'm going to die so she wants to make sure she can get my stuff?

Fine, then. I'm not bringing back any cheap plastic tourist crap for her! Muchas nachos, indeed.

Dear Monday

Dear Monday -

Let's be clear. You are going to behave yourself from here on out because we are NOT off to a good start.

So far this morning, I've snapped at Joe (sorry) because I was running late for work. Shifted lanes due to road construction almost resulted in a dude in a truck side-swiping me. I broke my shoe. And the absence-request system at work has decided to deny my request for a medical appointment tomorrow.

However, if the rest of the day runs smoothly, without attitude, without breakage, without the return of last night's headache, I will consider it all forgiven. Bonus points if my 4pm meeting goes in my favor.

Thanks for listening,

Before Coffee

Like many other refrigerators in the world, ours sports a whiteboard on the front for quick notes and grocery items. Half the fun of the board is trying to figure out what we actually scribbled on it when the time comes to head to the store.

About a week ago, I stumbled downstairs on the way to work and found the following note:

LV 6:20

Say what?

For some reason my still-sleepy mind knew instantly that Joe must be making a joke or playing some sort of game. And of course LV 6:20 must mean Leviticus Chapter 6 Verse 20. I looked it up online:

Leviticus 6:20

This is the offering Aaron and his sons are to bring to the LORD on the day he is anointed: a tenth of an ephah of fine flour as a regular grain offering, half of it in the morning and half in the evening.

As I stood there scratching my head, thinking maybe we were out of bread or flour, Joe came in the front door from his run.

me (pointing to the whiteboard): Leviticus 6:20? Huh?
Joe: LEAVE 6:20. As in I left for my run at 6:20am.
me: Oh, yeah, I knew that.

I still say he was messing with me.

New York, New York!

When I booked our trip to visit the family, I sent the following to a friend that lives in New York.

I'm coming to see you!
and by "you" i mean "new york"
and by "new york" i don't mean any of the good parts

Unfortunately, she lives several hours away from where I'll be in Podunk, NY. But it's still technically the same state.

Anyways, today's the day. Depending on when you read this post, I'll either be leaving on a jet plane, arriving in Podunk, perhaps visiting my MIL and then having dinner with friends. Hopefully all of this without feeling sick with anxiety. So good luck to me!

As for my blog, email responses may be a bit delayed. Six Word Saturday will happen as usual tomorrow. Something will probably even be posted Sunday and Monday. But forgive me if it's a bit sparse. Or, you know, thank me for some rare brevity! I've got enough to worry about so I'm giving myself permission to let things slip a bit around here. I know you'll understand.

And for kicks, you can probably watch me freak out realtime on Twitter (also on my sidebar), assuming I have data coverage.

Loose Ends

This is going to be one of those "here's a few random bits" kind of posts.

1. Regarding my Six Word Saturday entry, the kitty in question is Rusty. He has some kind of allergic or stress condition where he decides to chew all the fur off a part of his body. Then he obsessively licks at it until it's raw and won't grow back. He's like an emo little cutter. Joe took him to the vet on Friday and they gave him a steroid shot to make him big and strong stop the itching so it can heal.

2. Yesterday's coworker - I finally sent her an email with a couple of time options that were open and made her choose between them. Then I smashed my head into the desk repeatedly and wept for humanity.

3. I'm having a giveaway on Seven Days Seven Answers this week so check it out. And please play. I like to think it's fun (I'm a bit biased but whatever) and I'd love to see more responses.

4. Rumor has it I'm being featured in an interview over at Jenn's (You know... that Blog?) today.

A Day at Work

Friday morning, I sent the following email to my committee at work:

All -
If you are receiving this email, it is because you have not yet scheduled a meeting time for next week. The following times are NO LONGER AVAILABLE. Please let me know by the end of today when you would like to meet.
Mon: 1-2
Tues: 9-10. 1-2, 2-3
Wed: 10-11
Thurs: 10-11, 1-2

I receive the following response:

I'll be there at 9 on Tuesday.

I respond anew:

The times on that list are already taken. Please choose a time that is NOT on the list.

Her new response?

Okay, how about 2pm Tuesday?

And you all want to know why I go home most nights with a headache?

Spam sammich

I wrote this awhile ago. Apparently. Because it's sitting in my drafts with a date of 06/02/09. I don't so much remember writing it but that's not surprising. That was right around family vacation time and I've tried to block a lot of that out. Looks like I was collecting spam. Anyways, today is the day I hit my coworker in the nose publish.

Thanks to our drugs your manhood will shine again. Really, is THAT what men want? Shiny? Or is that maybe what they think women want? I guess that makes sense if they watch all of those shampoo commercials about shiny hair.

I'd like to introduce you to my sister. No thanks, I've already got my own to deal with.

Your car in trouble. I hope not, that sounds expensive. And I only took it in for an oil change!

Fight the high prices of designer watches. Now THERE's a noble cause. Since we've already taken care of AIDS, homelessness, starvation and malaria, this seems like the only cause left. Just tell me where to make my tax-deductible donation.

Yo. Yo yourself!

Excuse me for bothering. Oh, how I can relate to this one.

Hired Help

Because I'm taking advantage of a rare visit from my muse, I'm just going to share part of a discussion I had with BrigitteZ yesterday afternoon.

BrigitteZ: i had to lock the pups in the computer room this morning b/c my dad hired yet another new maid
me: he not find one hot enough yet?
BrigitteZ: the dogs usually go in the laundry room so if they pee - its on tile
they're all little old mexican ladies
me: are you employing illegals?!?!?
BrigitteZ: hahaha
i have no idea
I am not employing anyone, my dad is
me: i think Jesus is illegal
our tree guy
we aren't sure
or it could just be that he's legal and the business isn't
BrigitteZ: ah i thought you meant like actual Jesus
me: i know, i love that
BrigitteZ: b/c he can be whatever he wants
being like the Lord and all
me: "Jesus trims my trees, jealous?"

Guess our yard guy oozes more Jesus than my brother.

P.S. All joking aside, I'm pretty sure Jesus is legal or we wouldn't be employing him. But BrigitteZ is an artiste so she may be getting all creative with the truth. Punk.