i was at the gym the other day, reading a health magazine and getting some cardio in. At the bottom of a page was a quote that read "65% of women answer the phone if it rings during sex." I almost fell off my elliptical. Of course, I hardly ever answer the phone under any circmstances anyway, but that number seemed so absurd! TELL ME y’all aren’t doing that, ladies! (and if so… WHY?!)
Later I told J-Mom this, and she asked if there were a similar statistic for men. She supplied her own guess though, as 0%. (And rightly so!) This conversation started as a result of Ethan-7yr pointing out two birds that ‘were having trouble flying.’ We looked. They were definitely not trying to fly, nor were they interested in answering any phones. J-Mom assured Ethan-7yr the birds were fine and maybe they were playing ‘chase.’
Pipe up, y’all. Tell me that magazine was wrong!
Okay, it’s really bad to blog that you’re having your veins filled with foam by Dr. Crocodile, and then forget to blog again for awhile afterwards. Sorry about that. I’ll get back to it in a minute.
I’m going to bore you to pieces now with the details of my Vein Thing. Why? Because so many of you asked me to, and I aim to please.
The Vein Thing was not that bad. Mike and I showed up for my 1 pm appointment. We waited in one waiting room, then another, and were in with the doctor by 1:15. We were in the truck leaving the parking lot at… 1:45.
Dr. Crocodile came in, filled a syringe with liquid that he then managed to ‘pump’ somehow. The pumping turned it into a white foam. Then he stuck the needle into my legs at least 20 times. (It was a small needle, and needles don’t bother me much.) INSTANTLY the veins that were big and bulgy went away.
I giggled and laughed through the whole thing because I? I am inaproppriately, inconveniently, absurdly and embarrassingly ticklish. Very much so. Dr. Crocodile said he preferred that to someone who complained a lot about the pain, but that was before I kicked him in the arm during one of the last injections, and I didn’t ask him if that changed his mind.
I call him Dr. Crocodile because he looks exactly like Steve Irwin. Not that he acts like him. That would be too weird, right? Except that halfway through the (so short) appointment, i realize HOLY CRAP HE DOES ACT LIKE HIM, TOO! AND HE’S ALREADY FILLING MY VEINS WITH WHITE FOAM AND IT COULD BE ANYTHING AT ALL IN THAT FOAM AND IT’S TOO LATE TO RE-THINK THIS AND…GAH! When Mike and I got to the truck, the first thing he asked was WHY I didn’t notice that Dr. Crocodile actually DOES act like Steve Irwin and WHY did that not stop me when i met him in my consultation. And I have no idea. None. You’d think I’d care about something like that, but whatever.
It burned a little. It tickled a lot. Overall it was NO BIG THING. The procedure was SO minor. And cheap! $180, no insurance, plus the cost of ‘compression pantyhose.’ Those are lovely, let me tell ya. I had to wear those for a few days and sleep in them the first night. Mightly stylish.
The first 2 days there was the strangest sensation that my legs had gas. The veins that had been ‘collapsed’ felt as if occasionally they would let out a small bubble of something and it would seem to float somewhere and then pop. Not painful. But as if I had a carbonated beverage in my legs that was slowly losing its fizz. J-Mom said it was Diet Coke, of course. And it was. It was the sensation of Diet Coke in my veins. As my fellow DC fans might note, it was not at all a bad thing.
So the Vein Thing was Monday. Just yesterday (Thursday) I worked out pretty hard and didn’t feel sore. Today I was planning to wakeboard, and am perfectly fine. (boat, lake did not cooperate with plans)
For the record, I had this procedure done because my veins would ache after I exercised. Not vanity. Really! But if I could have a similarly easy procedure done for my stretch marks, OH MY GOSH, I would, and gladly tell you it would be all in the name of vanity. I know that some of you are all ‘i love my stretch marks! they are the battle scars of my pregnancies!’ And good for you, really, but I’m just not that way.
The boogers on my shirt (that are not mine, mind you) are battle scars enough.
If any of you have vein questions, go ahead an email me. There was a surprising amount of interest in this, and I probably didn’t cover some of the things you’re wondering. (Just click it on the left there)
Today J-Mom and I made up for our previous lack of shopping. Mike was home from doing his radio show by 1:30 and we were off. No shoe store was safe. We tirelessly hunted a specific chocolate brown blouse for J-Mom. We bargain shopped and we argued about the way pants should fit. We shopped. We did not rest until hours and hours of quality shopping were had and then we collapsed into a booth at Chili’s for dinner. It was 9 by then, but stopping any sooner would have been unthinkable. It was that kind of day.
I got a couple of pairs of cute, cheap shorts. Yeah. Cheap shorts. I’m having some veins in my legs ‘collapsed’ on Monday and will be sitting around with my feet up for a few days next week. Cute, cheap shorts were in order. Shoes were not, but of course it was fun to look.
I have those bumpy varicose veins that sometimes come after pregnancies. So I went to see about getting them ‘lasered.’ That sounded so easy and painless and high tech and as simple as a manicure on the commercial. Why not? So I went to see the doctor. He reminded me so much of Steve Irwin, it was eerie.
Not his mannerisms or anything. He wasn’t bodyslamming me to the examining table and yelling "By Crikey, those are some beautiful veins." But he really does look like the guy. Anyway.
I’m not getting lasered. Dr. Crocodile said that we can go more conservative and just fill my veins with foam. Um. Gross. That’s better than laser? And somehow the answer was yes.
And that’s why I bought cheap shorts, not that you asked, and not that this is even why I’m blogging right now but I got distracted and so oops. sorry.
This was supposed to be about THIS!
Today happens to be the 17th, so please go do your monthly self breast exam and then say you did in the comment section.
You will be eligible for a fantastically well chosen prize that J-Mom and I bought today, AND you will be totally proud of yourself for being so health conscious. As always, feel free to click here and read about how and why we do this. (Also, find out how to get a cute little blog button.)
June Bonus: you’ll make the lady in the cute, cheap shorts with the bumpy veins very happy.
If I had to say what it is exactly we’ve been doing… i don’t think I could. We talk. We work out daily (surprise to J-Mom, who didn’t realize it was a VERY regular thing with me now). Um… we aren’t really shopping much… huh.
She’s here. Really. I’ll prove it with a picture soon, since details fail me.
Ah! Today she killed TWO spiders in less than 20 minutes. One had been CRAWLING ON MY ARM, and she came when she heard me stomping and shaking and wiggling in order to get it off me. (my hero!) The other one was in the dirty clothes basket. Gross. There was actually a third spider in the space of that very same hour (later referred to as the Hour of the Spider), but Caden-3yr stomped it.
Now she’s asleep. The Valiant Spider Slayer, and newly crowned Exercise Queen totally deserves a little nap.
THis is brief, because I’m soooo busy cleaning and laundering and having little happy freakouts. J-Mom gets here tonight for a nice long visit. YEA!!!
The other night I noticed MIke had a funny look on his face. Thoughtful, amused, confused. I asked what he was thinking. He said, "I’ll show you in a minute."
Now there’s an intriguing answer. More so when we go back to the basement, where we had been watching a movie, and he drops his shorts just a bit and holds them out for my inspection.
There, sewn into the flap of fabric by the zipper, lay a little fabric tag with the word "Nice" embroidered upon it.
Yuh huh. Some company strategically placed the word "Nice" in a very personal location.
We were puzzled. Amused, but completely puzzled. I immediately wanted to know which brand was up for such weirdness, and it turned out to be Daniel Cremieux. Whatever that is.
We theorized. We laughed. Later I asked if i could blog it. He agreed. Then I asked if I could take a picture.
Again with the funny look on his face. Then a sputter. Then a small nervous laugh.
I told him that I meant I’d take the picture WITHOUT him IN the shorts.
Later I asked him again what he thought the point was. "As a man, and as a businessman, WHY do that?"
He wasn’t paying a great deal of attention to me, since he was trying to get dressed and out the door, but he did say something about ‘subliminal messaging.’
This set me off into giggles, because really now. I just think that if a message is embroidered across your crotch, somehow it doesn’t quite count as ‘subliminal.’
And then! Then I’m stuffing MIke’s clothes into the dry cleaning bag and I notice another pair of Daniel Cremieux. Of course I look. How can I not look? What will this one say? "Sexy?" "Lookin’ Goooooood?"
It read "Bayonne."
Turns out "Bayonne" is a city in France. As is "Nice" of course.
But why embroider anything right there on the crotch of men’s pants, especially the word Nice, then sell them in West Texas where of course we’re gonna read "Nice" as Nice and not Neece?! Odd.
Anybody else have this brand? I’d love to know what other words are secretly stitched therein.
(Yeah. "Therein." Now that makes up for me not figuring out Nice meant Neece, right?)
Sorry for the lack of picture, with or without hot male model. I forgot to keep them out and they are somewhere in the Laundry Cycle, not to resurface for weeks if they’re lucky. (And knowing those nice shorts, they probably are.)
I hate to use public restrooms. HATE it. I avoid it whenever possible. However. Lately there has been a new reason to hate it. Why in the world do some women think it is okay to talk on their cell phones while in a stall? I DON’T WANT TO TWINKLE WITH WHOEVER IS ON THE OTHER END OF THAT CALL. I really don’t. Is that irrational? I don’t think so. And how to handle?
In the recent past I have tried:
*incessant flushing, so that the call is compromised. (not terribly mature or ‘green’ of me, but oddly satisfying as the lady talks about how frustrated she is that she can’t hear. hee hee.)
*asking the woman to please take her call somewhere else. (oh yeah. that went over well.)
*waiting, then going in to stall ONLY AFTER Cell Lady emerges from stall and leaves.
*ignoring it. i hate this though, and it has to be a serious emergency and i’d rather have another answer.
got any? (or am i really the only one who thinks this is tacky and unacceptable behavior which must be stopped?)