fall down and go boom

I fell down the stairs at work this morning. I usually take the stairs in the parking garage just to get that extra little bit of physical activity in before and after sitting at a desk all day. But today, after 7 1/2 years, my luck ran out and I fell.

I only fell down about the last 5-6 steps. As soon as I knew I was going down, I tried to figure out the best way to land with the least serious injury. I didn’t want to land on my head or neck, for obvious reasons, but I also didn’t want to land on my rear end or catch myself with my wrists. I ended up landing on my knees at an awkward angle.

My strategy worked; there were no broken bones or serious injuries. But I landed in such a way that I stretched my front thigh muscle and my calf muscle on my right leg. I also seem to have slightly twisted my right knee and seriously twisted my right ankle as evidenced by the pretty bruise darkening the place where my ankle bends into the arch of my foot.

This just helps to prove my theory that exercise will kill you.

Of Hickeys

At dinner tonight, I noticed that my oldest son had a purplish spot on his arm. I pointed to it and asked, “What happened?” The following conversation ensued:

Him: Oh, I was just sucking on my arm.

Me: Don’t suck on your arm! You gave yourself a hickey!

Him: So? What’s a hickey, anyway?

Me: Usually boys get them when they are teenagers and have their girlfriends sucking on their neck.

Him: Ewwww! Did you ever give any boys hickeys?

Me: *gasps in mock horror* Me? Of course not! Do you really think I’d suck on a boy’s neck?

Him: Yep. ‘Cause you’re always biting Daddy’s ear.

Me: Whaaa?

Him: And you stick your tongue in his ear, too!

Boy, is my face red.

What I learned today . . .

It’s embarrassing when the puppy drags your pink pair of thong panties with the rhinestone heart in the back into your son’s room while the neighbor kid is in there playing video games.

About Me

You want to know something about me? Most people who know me will tell you that I am smart as all get out. Really, they will. I’m no dummy, that’s for darn sure.

The other thing a lot of my friends will tell you is that I am just about the flakiest, most absent-minded person they have ever met. I try to hide this minor aspect of my personality but often fail miserably.

For the purpose of illustration:

When Brenda and I were preparing to drive to my hometown to give an inservice the other day, I be-bopped down the hall to my office to retrieve my new George Strait CD. A colleague of mine named Randy was working at my desk because my office is quieter than his workspace and he needed to get a lot of work done. I chirped, “No need to get up! I’m just lookin’ for my CD.” I proceeded to open the CD player; no CD there. Still bright and chipper, I said, “No, no. You’re fine. Stay there.” and ended up reaching across him and practically landing in his lap while ejecting the CD drive from my computer. He endured the indignity stoically and I straightened up and mused, “Where could that darn CD be?” Just then, he picked up the CD case that had been lying right in front of me and opened it up to reveal *gasp* my George Strait CD! I mused, “Well, how’d that get in there? Go figure.” Just then, I noticed that our Guidant rep had delivered the “Why Choose a Guidant Heart Device?” booklet that has Sharon’s picture in it. I laid the CD down on my desk as I excitedly flipped through the booklet enthusing, “Omigosh! Oh.My.Gosh! Dave remembered to get the booklet for me! Yay!” Then I rushed to the desk next to mine where another friend, named Kerry, was sitting and I said, “Remember the puppy painting that you liked so much? This is the girl who painted it!” I smiled as I read through the booklet for a few more seconds before announcing, “Okay, Brenda and I are leaving. Byeeee!” I was stopped shy of the door by Randy holding my CD case in front of me. “Remember this?” he said dryly. Oh yeah. That’s why I came in here in the first place, isn’t it? But I didn’t say that out loud.

In the car on the way to my hometown, I was complaining to Brenda, “I just know Randy thinks I am a flake. I just know it.” Brenda just grinned and said something along the lines of, “Gee, I wonder why.”

As soon as we got to the doctor’s office in my hometown, I ran to the nearest restroom. Too much diet coke, don’tcha know. Brenda entered the bathroom as I exited and came back out a few minutes later gesticulating wildly with her hands, which were wearing my rings, and saying, “And Heather wonders why Randy thinks she is a flake.” It turns out I had taken my rings off to wash my hands and then left them lying on the sink. Boy, did I feel sheepish.

A day or two later, back home in our town, I had a massage scheduled and I planned to go straight from my massage to work and straight from work to the gym. I thought about it and decided that it made the most sense to wear my gym clothes since I would be changing into scrubs while I was at work anyway. After my massage, I stopped and bought some Ginger Ale for my friend who was in the hospital for a bad stomach bug. I got to work, changed clothes in the locker room, and trotted up to Carolyn’s hospital room to present her with Ginger Ale and a smile. The poor girl was propped up against a pillow looking paler than the bed linens and her face was set in a grimace. My gift of Ginger Ale was met with a frail and pathetic thank you. (A fast fact about Heather: she can’t stand seeing her friends suffer and will provide comedic relief whenever possible.) I took one look at my sickly friend and decided that I had to make her laugh even if it came at my expense.

Me: I betcha I can make you laugh.

Her: Give it your best shot.

Me: I wore my workout clothes to work today.

Her: And?

Me: What I failed to remember is that my workout clothes have a built-in panty and my scrubs do not.

Just as I’d hoped, she burst into laughter. But the sad reality of the situation was that I had only been able to make her laugh because I am SUCH a flake.

And then there was the thing that happened tonight. I left work late and had driven almost all the way home when I realized I had left my laptop at work. I have to have my laptop. Yes, I do. So, I turned around and drove allll the wayyyyy back to the hospital. I parked at the curb in front and ran into my office. I turned on the lights, looked around with my hand on my hip and thought, hmmmm, it’s not here. I told myself that it must be in the car and I was a silly girl for thinking I’d forgotten it. I went back out to the car and searched high and low and there was still no laptop. I went back inside and this time searched the girls’ locker room. No laptop. I was starting to get frantic. How could I lose a laptop? Isn’t that, like, impossible? I went to the car AGAIN and again found no laptop. I was already rehearsing in my head just how I would break it to Brad that I had lost a whole computer, when I decided to run back inside one more time. And guess what? My laptop was sitting in a chair, in my office. I had looked right at it and failed to notice it sitting there.

Days like the days I have been having recently make me wonder how much longer I can keep impressing people with my brains. Because I am not sure anyone is very impressed by intelligence without common sense.

It’s not easy being me.

Yeah, I’m dumb

Do you ever have that dream where you realize, once you’re at school (because I am always still in school in those dreams), that you forgot to wear a shirt today?

I know you have. Marcey and Sharon both wrote about that type of dream recently. Except they apparently forget to wear pants in their dreams. Not me. I forget to wear my shirt.

Well, it sort of really happened to me last night. We got a call from some friends of ours inviting us to go to dinner and a movie last night. We only had a few minutes to get ready to meet them at the movie theater. Brad and the boys were already in the car when I grabbed a shirt, threw it over my head, and ran out to the car.

Only when we were halfway to the movie theater did I realize that my shirt was falling off of me. I looked down and realized that I was sporting far more cleavage than any respectable girl should show. Well, I mean, come on! We were going to see Ice Age 2! Who sports cleavage to a children’s movie?

The shirt was a handkerchief top that I fell in love with and bought in December and excitedly anticipated wearing when the weather became nice again. It has been 90 degrees here for the past couple of days, thus I wore the shirt.

Besides being too big in the bust area, the shirt also slid off of my shoulders. It constantly slid off both shoulders. At the same time. Did I mention the shirt was made of handkerchiefs? That means there was no stretchy fabric to help it stay up. I found myself gripping the shirt in the bosom area and shrugging my shoulders to try to keep it from falling off completely.

I was still fighting a losing battle with my shirt when we arrived at the restaurant a couple of hours later. It was so big that two hands were not enough to keep it on my body. The restaurant was conveniently located next to Wal-Mart and I finally gave up and walked to Wal-Mart, bought a T-shirt and changed my top in the restroom.

It was quite embarrassing. What kind of idiot wears a shirt that is wayyyyy too big? Me. *raises hand* This idiot.

My only defense is that I have lost 20 pounds since I bought the shirt. I still have trouble realizing that I am smaller now than I used to be. Because I wasn’t big to begin with. Twenty pounds was actually probably a little too much weight to lose. But still, when I look in the mirror, I look the same size as I was three months ago. I guess that’s why I thought the shirt would still fit.

After I changed my shirt, I folded up the handkerchief top and put it in my purse. I couldn’t help laughing a little as I walked back to the restaurant. Only hookers and, now me, carry around a change of clothes in their purse.

It’s all about me

I need lots of attention. I don’t deny it. I freely admit that I am a very high maintenance person. That’s why this blog has been good for me. I get lots of attention from lots of people and I get to lavish attention in return. Tonight, my need for attention backfired on me.

Brad is trying to finish his final exam for some horribly complex math class he is taking in his Master’s program. At one point, I got fed up with being ignored and climbed up in his lap and began nibbling his ear. He leaned forward to try to see past my head and we both fell out of his ergonomic desk chair. He landed on his knee and I landed on my back with my head bouncing off of the tile floor nicely. Did the accident teach me a lesson? Why yes. I learned that Brad really shouldn’t ignore me when I need attention because it only hurts us both in the end.

Okay!

Okay! Okay! I called my doctor! I am having my IUD removed on Oct. 4th. Then I will most likely have a biopsy a month later.

I cannot believe I am writing about any of this on my blog. And now that I have, I would like for all of you to just forget about it. Okay?

The One Where I Trip Over Nothing

So, I was walking just now? And I tripped over thin air and went skipping across the hallway floor. I didn’t fall all the way down, but that’s not the point. I still tripped and several people saw me. I just shook my head, looked down at the floor and went on my merry way. Is it scary that people trust me with their very lives?

Vision Therapy Update

Well, I took Bump to the vision therapist today. When they checked his vision, the kid could not even read the 20/200 line even with his contact in his eye. I was distraught. I just kept thinking that we were back to square one and it has already been such a bumpy ride. Bump started crying because he knew he would have to wear his black occluder contact lens again. He kept saying, “But I won’t be able to see again! I will run into things again!”

The vision therapist kept adding . . .and adding . . .and adding strength to Bump’s prescription. Finally, Bump was able to read the eye chart. The doctor looked at me and said, “I had to add + 7.50 to his prescription! No wonder he can’t see!”

When we left the therapist’s office, he asked me to look at the prescription on Bump’s contact box and call him so he would know what strength of prescription to order. I came home, got the box, and called the office. I told them the lens was a Bausch and Lomb brand and read off the prescription. Within minutes, the office had called me back.

The nurse said, “When Dr. Hembree did the eye exam, your son was wearing a CIBA lens.”

“That can’t be right,” I mused. “The box says Bausch and Lomb.”

“Does anyone else in your home wear contacts?” she asked.

“Yes. My husband wears contacts.”

“Why don’t you look and see which brand he uses.”

I looked at the box in Brad’s medicine cabinet and said, “That’s funny. He wears CIBA.”

Yep. You guessed it. Bump has been wearing his father’s contact lens for a week. Bump’s prescription is supposed to be +5.50. Brad’s prescription is -3.75. Do ya think that might cause some of the problems he is experiencing? Yeah. Me too.

The really sad thing is that last week Bump looked at his contact and said, “This isn’t my contact. Mine doesn’t look like this.” Brad checked it out and said, “Of course it is yours. There is only one lens in the case and you are the only person who only wears one lens.” Bump said, “But mine doesn’t look like this.” Brad said, “You are just confused.”

This is the same child who covered his right eye two years ago and said, “Mom, I can’t see out of my left eye.” I said, “Whatever, Bump.” He said, “No really! I can’t see out of this eye!” I was still skeptical. I didn’t believe him right up until the eye doctor said, “It would seem that Bump can’t see anything out of his left eye.”

As I told my mother this whole story a few moments ago, she only had one question–”When are you people going to learn to listen to that child?”

Addendum: Brad and Bump both wear disposable lenses. Brad saves a pair or two of his lenses instead of throwing them away so that he has an old pair to wear when he is waterskiing or swimming, etc. So, Brad was still wearing the right contact lenses. Bump is the only one who was wearing the wrong lens. Bump sees 20/20 out of his good eye without any lenses. He only wears a contact in his left eye. So, both of them could see just fine. That’s why we didn’t know it was the wrong lenses. I know–it was a classic clusterf–k!

First Impressions

My friend, Mindy, and I were best friends in the eighth grade. When she moved to another town just before ninth grade, I was devastated. Fast-forward 3 years. When I graduated from high school, I found myself moving to her new town. I got my own tiny apartment and she and I started hanging out again. Then we thought, What could be more fun than the two of us sharing a tiny, little one bedroom apartment? So, Mindy moved in. And we had a blast. We only had one bed and one bedroom. That was no big deal to us. We had been friends since Junior High so it was just like one really big sleepover for us. We didn’t realize we were getting a reputation as the lesbian couple that lived on the first floor! One night, my future boyfriend and her future boyfriend were over at our place. Girls being girls, Mindy and I got to giggling over something and couldn’t stop laughing. She was sitting on the bed and I was standing in front of her. I was laughing so hard that I felt like I couldn’t stand up, so I leaned forward to put my hands on her shoulders to support myself. As I leaned forward, she leaned back and I ended up with my hands firmly planted on her boobs. The force of my weight caused her to start falling backwards and she lifted one leg to try to give herself some leverage to stay sitting up. The whole situation made us laugh even harder and, apparently, louder because, at that moment, the two guys looked around the corner and saw me , with my hands on Mindy’s breasts, pushing her back on the bed and one of her legs up in the air. That was all it took for us to lose it completely. We laughed until we cried and the boys just stood there looking at us with a surprised expression on their faces.

Later, after we were actually dating these guys, my boyfriend shared with me that he had been relieved to find that I was not gay because he had been wanting to ask me out for a while. At the same time, he conceded that he had been a little disappointed to know I was straight for sure because it is every guy’s fantasy to see what he thought he was seeing that day in my apartment.

Isn’t it funny how people come to believe things about other people? I guess that is one good reason to give anyone a second chance to impress you:-)