Friday, April 29, 2005

Just For You, Diva....

I generally pride myself on being a good driver...I've not had any tickets and I've just been pulled over once...so the other morning, I arrive back for my first day at work since the purple eye funk began, wearing my glasses. I should stress that wearing glasses is not high on my list of "things I like to do." Some people look cute or smart in glasses. I look 12 years old. Plus it doesn't help that I can't wear any eyemakeup per the docs orders. So I look like a 12 year old with no eyes. There's something about wearing my glasses that puts me in superslowmotion mode. You know how in the movies, when they want something to be "slow" they make the voices deep and drawn out? That's how I react in glasses. Plus I lose all depth perception.
So back to my story...I had pulled into the parking lot at work, pulled into my space, and BAM! I hit the white thing that sticks out the ground, which I now know is called a "bollard" (right Diva?). So I back up off it and look around. And of course some man has witnessed my indiscretion and now has another story about bad women drivers. Actually, he may of thought it was strange that a 12 year old girl with no eyes was driving...
P.S. I also hit my husbands truck when I pulled into my drive the other night. Oops! My car will sure be glad when I have contacts again!

Thursday, April 28, 2005

AMERICA....WHAT ARE YOU SMOKING?

What the hell is going with American Idol voters booting the beautiful Constantine. Mr. Smoldering Eyes, Lips (you name the body part, I guarantee you it smolders) was somehow on the receiving end of a royal screwing. He is drop dead sexy. I understand that he might not be your exact type, but who the hell votes for the little asexual blonde guy? I would love to know what/who makes up his fan base. You cannot tell me that Mr. Celine Dion (I'm sorry but no man admits to even liking Celine Dion, muchless singing one of her songs on national fucking television!!!!!!!!!) deserved to stay on longer than Constantine. And what about Scott? Nice voice, but zero charisma. Zero enthusiasm. Not a whole lot to like about that young man. Again, who's out there voting for him? I can't imagine that it's the teen girl population. The only person I know who is a big fan is my husband's father-in-law who loves the "Duets" soundtrack (Gwyneth Paltrow singing), if that speaks to his musical tastes.
But seriously, it makes me question who is really voting for these people. Obviously not the 18-35 year old female population. I know very few females in that category that would choose ThugBoy or Mr. Celine over Constantine. For example, you're in a bar and this nicely dressed, wimpy blonde guy comes over waxing poetic about Celine Dion and what a musical genious she is and how it's his life's dream to go on national television and sing her gayest song of all time. Would you go home with him? Would you even give him your phone number? I think not...Next up, a rather portly thuggish type walks up and squints at you. He's nice sounding, but well...Ew. And then the guy tall dark and handsome guy with semilonghair and a leather coat saunters over and gives you a half smile...you know the one...and says I'm in a band. You know there's got to be a tatoo or piercing hiding under those clothes somewhere...and all you can think about is where they might be and how quick can you find them...There is not a single one of you who can honestly say you would be more attracted to Mr. Celine than Constantine. If you can...then we obviously can't hang out.

Monday, April 25, 2005

How I'm Feeling Presently


Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Further Tales of the Modern Day Leper....

I have officially been diagnosed by a specialist. I can no longer call my problem purple eye funk. I have viral conjunctivitis (they think). And it's highly contagious. As the doc put it, nobody should want to be in the same room with you kind of contagious. I still have a sore throat and fever too. I'm really tired of being sick.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Paradise Found

So this is a tribute to my favorite place in the world...Cozumel.

I've been going since 1992 and I love it there. I had hoped when I married my husband in 2000 that he would love it as much as I did and we could make it our tradition. Thanks to some horrible, uh, gastrointestinal issues due to a severe allergic reaction to some medication he took (he likes to tell people I tried to poison him on our honeymoon, which is partially true, but I swear I didn't mean to), he does not care if he ever sets foot back in Mexico again. So for the past four years, it's been a girl thang.

Me and my friend (we'll call her Dr. Barbie...she's tall, skinny, blonde, and while she's isn't a doctor yet, she will be soon) have gone for increasing amounts of time each year. The first year, it was 4 nts/5 days...I think we actually repeated that the following year as well. Last year it was 7 nts/8 days. This year it's 8 nts/9 days. Pretty soon,we'll just move down there (joking, kidding, well, kind of).

It's 32 days until my vacation begins. I am looking forward to it. Of course, I've been off work for three days at this point with the affectionately and aptly named purple eye funk. It's just amazing to step back from everyday life for an entire week and not have to do anything you don't want to do. That is the way to relax. I swear, the most difficult decisions we had to make last year dealt with sunscreen SPF and diving schedules.

And I swear, our trips to Coz make me a better person...Here I'm this horribley aggressive driver (Move bitch, the left lane is not a turning lane, get the fuck out of the way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!as I turn purple and my bloodpressure creeps up). We rent a car in Coz and end up driving 10 mph behind a donkey cart on the way to the deserted beach (what can I say, we're anti-social) while people on bikes pass us (kind of like the man w/the walked in Office Space)and I'm perfectly content going "ho,hum the skies pretty...the waves are pretty, oh, look the sands pretty, look at the water, isn't it pretty, etc, etc. Of course as soon as I hit Dallas traffic leaving DFW that shits out the window.

Then there's the diving. Man, it's a whole other world down there. Serene, peaceful. It's where I go when people do relaxation exercises and tell you to imagine the most peaceful place you can think of...It's just amazing. Of course, our first drift dive (the currents were pretty strong that day too) was a bit of an experience...I was overweighted and Barbie was underweighted, so I dropped like a rock and she couldn't get down. And our dive group was already zooming with the current. I've never held hands with another woman more than on that dive.

There are so many good memories...sunning on the deck of a catmarran in the middle of the caribbean, chilling out to Jimmy Buffet tunes...Coasties!!!...the island style men (I may be married, but I'm not dead or blind (at least yet)...Chank on a Sunday afternoon...Carlos & Charlie's waitstaff making paper flowers for our hair...TEQUILA SHOTS!!!!!...the lighthouse...being drunk and taking lewd contrived pictures with the cardboard cutouts (I'll have to find that pic and post it)...the crocodile swim...Coconuts...sliding down the kiddie slide at 3am in a dress (no occifer, there was no drinking)...

It's kind of like the bad stuff (which is far and few between) turn in to good memories (or at least memorable experiences). Like sliding down the slide. In a short black dress. In a thong. That is visible in the pictures. Or waking early after said slide experience on the day of departure only to find out our flight has been moved up and we have 15 minutes to get to the pickup location. I'll never forget Barbie telling me to shut up and going back to sleep. She thought I was kidding. Only after realizing that I was madly packing shit up did she leap out of bed. Then being incredibly sickly hungover at the airport. Not a good thing. I can honestly say we have never partied the night before we departed again. Fool me once, shame on you...fool me twice, shame on me!!! Let's just say it was a learning experience.

So here's to this year's trip and the memories to be made...

Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Saturday, April 23, 2005

I Always Liked the Color Pink...

That is until it was used to describe my eyes...

So I went to work Thursday and the first thing I'm greeted with is "Man, who smacked you in the eye?" What?!?!?Who?!?! Are you talking to me?!?! I knew my eye was a bit teary, but not "who smacked you in the eye" kind of bad. So I go into my office and start checking myself out in the mirror...OMG, it does look like I was smacked! My eyelids are puffy and pink and I look like I'm carrying my luggage around under my eyes (and I'm not a light packer!). So $80 later, I end up with a diagnosis of pink eye and some eye drops, and a reassurance that all will be better soon. I have but one word for you....
LIAR!!!!!!!

By Thursday night, my eye feels like it about to pop out of my head (wouldn't that be pretty?) and it just plain hurts and is not any better.
Friday morning, no better, no worse, no work, as I'm apparently the modern equivalent of a leper. For example:
Him: Did u touch that remote?
Me: Yes.
Him: Ew. (followed by a pause)
Him: Did you touch that other remote?
Me: Yes.
Him: Ew.

So it gets even better as I develop a sore throat by Friday night. What the hell is that about? A pink (now bordering on purple) eye and a sore throat. Nice.

By Saturday morning (as in today), my eye wouldn't open as it seems someone glued it shut during the night. Oh wait! The drainage that was supposed to go away "soon" has stuck my eye shut. Unfortunately, my doctor doesn't work on Saturdays and my only choices are the ER or the minor emergency clinic. I chose the minor emergency clinic. I see a PA who is clearly not coming within 4 feet of my face. I promise you, she seriously stood way the hell back, further confirming my theory that I am in fact a modern day leper. Oh, and I have a fever. So since my eye is purple, ooky, and swollen, she gives me a shot of penicillin and another Rx for oral Cipro...you know, since my eye hurts and all. And refers me to the Eye Institute. And tells me no work until they figure out what I've got (oh that's reassuring). My boss will be less than thrilled, but I'm sure he'd rather not have the purple eye funk going around the bank.

So then I call one of my partners in crime, the soon-to-be M.D. who was a nurse practitioner in her former life (okay, she still is on occassion when she's not studying her ass off for med school) and relay my experience with her. Unfortunately she lives 4 hours away now. She was less than thrilled that no eye exam was performed and no eye drops were prescribed and made some comment about not wanting my eye to liquify. Girl, you don't want my eye to liquify? I really don't either...I really like me eye! Please, please fix it! So she calls in Cipro eye ointment for me.

And I took a picture of my scary eye...so if ya'll (I'm from TX, give me a break) are lucky, maybe I'll post it....
 

2010 Design by sweet cheeky designs