I'm sorry... can you spell that?

Time to laugh. I will tell the Beenis story. Ready?

A new patient called to make an appointment for his young son. The man was VERY hard to understand, Asian and I was having a lot of difficulty deciphering what he was trying to tell me.

I was able to finally understand that his son was 3 years old, and he looked in his mouth and thought he saw a cavity.

OK. This I can work with. So I need to get some information in order to put the patient into the computer. And this is where the story unfolds... last name is changed to protect the innocent... lol)

Me: May I have your name please?

Him: WOOO.

Me: Wooo? Double U oh oh oh?

Him: No. WU. Double U U.

Me. Ah. Wu. May I have your son's name please?

(ready? Here's where it gets interesting)

Him: Penis.

Me: ..... nothing. I got nothing. I'm sitting there in stunned silence.

Me: Penis?

Him: Penis.

Me: (trying to hold back laughter) Can you spell that please?

Him: Bee. e. e. n. i. s.

Me: OHHHHH. B. BEENIS???

Him: Yes! Beenis.

So... shaking with laughter, I finish putting ol' Beenis into the computer, and making up a chart. Beenis has become the talk of the office, and we can't WAIT to meet this poor little boy with such a name.

Finally the day comes... and in walks this adorable little 3 year old... and his father hands me all the paperwork on him.

Yeah. It's not Beenis. It's DENNIS. (((sigh))) His chart forever remained Beenis... and my little sock monkey on my desk? I labeled him. He's Beenis.

SOMEBODY had to be Beenis.

Shhhh. Don't tell tim...

Over the past few years I've developed a wonderful friendship with Mario. I 'met' Mario through tim... and just fell head over heels for this guy. He's amazingly funny, an incredible friend, and just always there when I need to talk, vent or cry on his shoulder.

He's one of the two guys in my life that tell me to CHILL. He's also the one that will be bailing me out...

He's the reason I tweet. (and I still don't get twitter - I'm a loyal facebook girl) And if you don't follow him on twitter, you're missing out on great BTS stuff!!

Just wanted him to know how much he means to me - even though we've never met in person, (SOMEDAY!!) I still consider him a good friend... and I thank you for being there for me!!

The things that happen to me...

So I know I've had problems in the past with mistaken identity. If you recall an older blog post about the hunky guy I was eyeing at the park... the one that turned out to be a FEMALE... well... I did it again. Only this time I did it even BETTER.

I was leaving the office last night, walking down the sidewalk to the parking lot. I saw a man and a couple of kids walking toward me. I swore I knew this man. I swore I not only KNEW this man, I liked this man, and I swore not only did I know him and LIKE him, I like to flirt with him.

Yes. I admit it. I flirt. Outrageously. But that's not the issue here.

So before I know it, my flirt instinct pops out and I give this guy a huge smile, a come-hither look, tossing my hair and thrusting the tatas. You know, typical flirt stance.

He looks at me, and gives me a HUGE smile back... and I'm quite certain there was a come-hither look in HIS eyes also, except they were hidden behind sunglasses. It's at this point I realize I do not know this man.

He is a stranger. You would think the fact that he had small kids with him would have tipped me off. Since the man I thought he was has 2 kids in college. But that's beside the point.

At the same moment my brain is registering OMG I DON'T KNOW YOU, HIS brain is registering OMG THIS WOMAN WANTS TO JUMP MY BONES.

I turned a most lovely shade of purple and speedwalked to my car.

These things only happen to me. I'm not sure why. Probably just so I can amuse my friends by letting them laugh at me.

365 days...

Better known as one year... I made it. I made it with the help and love and support of my friends and family - and for the past month, the help of AA.

I cannot sing the praises of AA enough - this was the best move EVER.

I'm happy... in almost all areas of my life right now. I say almost with a bit of a grimace. Maybe one day all areas will be happy, I'm sure hoping so.

But if it's not? I'll be ok. I'm a brave girl, remember?

Baking The Bod and Tanning The Tatas

This is my new lounge chair. Some of you are aware of the angst that occurred during the lounge chair search. I have to say, the wait was worth it. I ended up with exactly what I wanted. Or at least I thought I did.

Now. How do I tell him that I still can't lay (lie?) on my stomach because it's too uncomfortable?

It's not the chair's fault. It's the tatas. What I have discovered is that I can only tan my back when I'm in the sand and can dig out a nice hole for the tatas to drop into.

I don't care who sees me do it. I sculpt a beautiful hole, perfectly sized and placed, and then drop 'em in. And then I'm done for 30 minutes or until my arms fall asleep. Whichever comes first.

So you should visualize my body right now. I've been tanning my front for well over a month. I'm pretty damn tan. Until I turn my back on you.

I have a brown frontside and a white backside. And I have 5 days until I can drop the tatas into sand... so if you see me in the grocery store, please try not to stare at my backside.

And by backside I don't mean my arse. Although if you want to stare at that, go ahead. Just don't comment on it's whiteness. Spanks...

Fitting in...

Met up with 8 people from high school last night. I put my Brave Girl pants on, and went by myself... Out of the 8, one is my friend, the others I barely knew...

But I knew they were the cool kids. And I wasn't that cool kid. And it was the most surreal feeling in the world to be sitting there with them, talking and laughing as if I were a part of their world. (remember that high school world that I said I was saying goodbye to and putting behind me? Yah. I lied)


I kept wondering how I would appear to them. If they would like me. If I looked good enough. If I laughed enough, or talked too much... or if I was boring and painful to listen to.

Does that feeling of awkwardness ever go away? Considering my age, I guess not.

These people were nothing but nice, warm, caring and fun. I just couldn't shake the old feelings of inadequacy. Always wanting to be better, and prettier, and funnier and, well... just FIT IN with the cool kids.

I'm so glad I went, and that I stayed... and all I want to know is what they said about me after I left. ;-)

I crack myself up sometimes.

I am a Brave Girl...

Officially.

In July of 2011, Donna and I will attend Brave Girls Camp. Ever hear of it? Here's a link: http://www.bravegirlsclub.com/

It sounds phenomenal.. and we are beyond excited. I'm told it's a life changing experience...

And just the fact that I booked it and stood up for myself makes me a brave girl already!!!!!

First and Foremost...

I made the top 100. That is exciting - but I can't just graciously accept congratulations.

I had nothing to do with it. All I did was enter. Sure, that was big (for ME) but all I did was click some keys and enter.

It was my friends that got me there. It was the love and kindness of my friends, and THEIR friends that put me where I needed to be.

I am forever grateful.

People ask me what's next now... and the answer is this - it's before the judges, I'm not even thinking about it- I did what I set out to do. Top 100. That's all I needed.

Beauty

So this is all new to me. This contest crap. I don't enter contests. I have to be prodded to enter something creative into a contest. I'm just not an enterer. I don't like competition.

So WTH made me enter this More Magazine thing?? What was I THINKING?

I'll tell you what I was thinking. I entered because I didn't think I'd have the GUTS to enter. I never thought I'd have a chance at anything - I just wanted to try something OUT of the box.

And once I looked over the other entries and saw the amount of votes some of these women had I figured I'd probably land somewhere in the middle. Never thought I'd have a shot at the top 100. And the top 100 is the place to be. That gets you to the second round of judging.

At that point it's no longer a popularity contest - seeing how many of your friends and family you can nag, beg and bribe to vote for you. It's before the judges... and they choose the top 3 based on looks and story.

Well, imagine my surprise when today I tied for 95th place.

That means top 100. That means I'm IN it. That means this is real all of a sudden. And then this FEELING came over me. I think I feel...

COMPETITIVE.

Now I want that top 100 more than anything. I know I won't win - I'm not kidding myself. But I want that damn top 100. I need to hold my own until May 12th.

And this is the LAST time I'm entering ANYTHING. My nerves can't take it.

Like Pavlov's dog...

A little background. At my office I am in charge of recording the answering machine message. I do this twice a day. Once at lunch, and once before I leave. I press a button, the machine beeps and I begin my message... they all begin the same way - "Thank you for calling Dr. Vander Vliet's office...."

More background. For 21 years I've been calling prescriptions into pharmacies for my patients. I've never had any issues. Well, except that one time that I had to call one in for a patient with the last name of Dick. And yes - I burst into giggles while on the phone with the pharmacy.

SO... the other day I had to call the pharmacy, and most have the option to leave the prescription info on an answering machine.

I listen, I hear the beep and guess what comes out of my mouth?

Yep. "Thank you for calling ..."

I knew there was no recovery from that. I hung up on the machine. I laughed so hard I cried. I waited over an hour to call the pharmacy back just in case they knew it was ME. lol

That wasn't the worst part.

The next day I did it AGAIN with another pharmacy. Only this time... MORE came out of my mouth.

So there was no hiding. I just giggled my way through the prescription. I will NEVER show my face in RiteAid again. Just so you know...

All grown up? I think not...

I try to convince myself, (and others) that I'm a grown up. I mean seriously, at age 52 (almost 53 EGADS) I should be self-sufficient, right? I should be able to make conscious decisions that will better ME. Right? I should be able to stand alone and run my household and my body efficiently and in a healthy manner. Right?

Ha. Ha, I say.

Left to my own devices this morning at the early hour of 7:30am, I have gotten the following accomplished:

Drank some coffee.
Drank some more coffee.
Ate a yogurt.
Ate a cold piece of pizza.
Finally showered.
Surfed the 'net.
Surfed the 'net some more.
Worked on a scrapbook page.
Surfed the 'net a little bit.
Realized I was cold and started the woodstove.
Surfed the 'net.
Restarted the woodstove because I surfed the 'net too long and it went out.
Realized it was lunch time.
Ate another yogurt.
Decided I needed some protein, so I poured some nuts into a paper cup and then poured them into my mouth.
Picked up nuts from my carpet.

So there you have it. Left on my own, I got NOTHING accomplished, ate terribly, got nuts stuck in my carpet and socks, and a scrapbook page halfway done.

But I did surf the 'net. ;-)

That's what a normal grown up would do, right?????

Wine, wine... wine.

Day 246. I had an interesting conversation with my brother last night. He asked how I was doing with not drinking, and I proudly told him my day count. He asked if I thought I would ever just try to take one glass of wine, and keep my drinking to a minimum.

I laughed, and said that I knew better than that. One glass of wine a week would turn into one glass of wine a day, which would turn into three glasses of wine a day... which is where my story started. I don't have the 'want' to just have one glass a week. If I'm going to drink, I'm going to get buzzed. That's the only reason I would ever drink. That's the only reason I ever DID drink.

So then the interesting part of the conversation happened. He apologized to me for having 2 beers the last time he was at my home.

Nonsense, I said... I don't care if you drink in front of me - it has no impact at all. The husband drinks a beer every night. There is a bottle of wine in the cabinet.

He's not the first person to feel funny about drinking in front of me. And that makes ME feel bad!

My drinking was a very solitary act. Yes, I drank with friends, but rarely allowed myself to get too buzzed. I was always ascared I'd get sick. But at home? No problem. I'd suck them down until I couldn't walk straight. And my FAVORITE time to drink was alone on my deck, with my book, the sun and a large LARGE glass of wine.

So seeing someone drink in front of me holds no 'want'. And I can't say it enough to my friends and family - go ahead and drink - PLEASE! It truly doesn't make any difference to me at all, and WON'T make me fall off the wagon.

Only *I* can make myself fall off the wagon. And I'm clinging to that wagon with every breath I take.

When I grow up, I wanna be....

The Echo. 1975. My high school yearbook from the year I graduated, 35 years ago... I keep this yearbook, along with all the others, up in my attic - buried under a pile of crap. And while looking through it, I realized how much I TRULY don't miss high school. This was not part of the 'best years of my life'.

I was not a popular girl. I didn't have a crowd of friends, or a string of boyfriends. I was quiet, ascared of everything, very unsure of myself... well, hell - I haven't changed much since then. I glanced at the senior portraits, which included little tidbits about ourselves. My nicknames, 'Floyd and Mousey' (don't remember why I was called mousey);my dislikes, 'being called short'; my likes, 'a certain guy's big brown eyes (I think that might have been a guy named Jack); my future hopes - being a journalist.

I was not an involved student - I went to class, got average grades, had a few close friends and mainly tried to stay OUT of the line of sight of the popular kids. They certainly weren't about to include me in their lives. The first few years of high school I spent my time trying to be just like THEM. Didn't work. All it did was make them look at me like I had two heads. The only club I joined was the school newspaper and magazine. With the other misfits. ;-)

I was not the girl that the boys wanted to bring home to meet their parents. I had a slender body and very large tatas. Of course, that meant I was fast and loose. (insert rolling eyes here) If you had large tatas, it meant you were automatically a slut. So I had this incredibly bad reputation, for no reason. I was a virgin until my 18th birthday. But you would have NEVER known that by the boys in my senior class. I apparently slept with most of them. And a few juniors, too. And possibly some of their older brothers.

It wasn't until I was long out of high school that I realized those 4 years were DONE, over, and not to be held in my memory any longer. LET it go.

So this is me, letting it GO. Goodbye Roxbury High School, Class of 1975. You don't impact my life at all anymore.

What was that sound???

So I get up early this morning, leaving hb snoozing in bed. This is my favorite time of day. 6:15am, still dark, quiet, coffee in hand, Sunday paper in the other hand.

I hear something fall in the basement.

I ignore it.

Over the course of a half hour I hear many sounds from the basement. Scurrying noises. Things tipping over.

We have a critter. So hb finally wakes up and I say "good morning, we have a critter in the basement."

And down he goes, clad in his boxer briefs and nothing else.

At this point I'm just praying it's not a BIG critter.

I hear him call my name, asking for my help. Yeah right. Like I'm going down there. So I say "what kind of critter is it??"

A mumble in response.

"I'm not going down there until you tell me what you have."

"flying squirrel".

OMG - how freaking cute are these things????? Little body, big head and big eyes. ADORABLE. FAST.

We finally trapped him in a fishing net and put him outside. Turns out he had nested in one of our birdhouses, the same birdhouse hb brought inside yesterday afternoon to repair.

Imagine that squirrel's surprise when he woke up inside his house, INSIDE MY HOUSE.

Evil.

Evil, I tell ya. Do NOT attempt your... private area with this. It's NOT pretty. And it wasn't so much the OUCH part of it.

I can handle physical pain. I've been waxed before. But I've never waxed my OWN... um... woowoo.

It's almost physically impossible to do a good job. And the residue. HOW the hell do you get rid of the residue??? Soap and water didn't work. Lotion didn't work.

So I have a half waxed... um... AREA, and by half I mean sporadic. And sticky. I'm sticky and I can't get it off.

It's going to be an interesting day.

Chill, girl...

My new mantra.

Someone very wise (actually TWO very wise guys) have told me multiple times that I need to 'chill, girl'... because I get so crazed and angry at things... I have a short fuse and I tend to reach a boiling point and then explode... mostly at work. Bsgirl can usually sense it coming and will push me out into the hallway so that I can walk off my anger.

But I figured it was worth a shot to NOT have those moments of outrage... so now, when I feel one rising, I say to myself, and sometimes OUT loud... "CHILL, GIRL, CHILL".

And it's working. So far. It's been a week.

I'll probably end up going postal and end up in jail.

I know who I'm calling for bail. ;-)

Elizabeth's Altoid Tin

When we went into the city 2 weeks ago, we were treated to lunch by Dave's sister, Cathy and her husband. We wanted to send them a nice thank you gift. I decided to do an altered altoid tin with a mini album inside with pics of their 9 month old, Elizabeth.

Hopefully she doesn't have one already. ;-) I crack myself up.

Again...

Janette went to CHA again and got me another prezzie. This one just makes my heart go pitter patter... ;-)

I ask a lot of questions.

I know I do. I get very curious about other people's lives. I guess because I'm curious how they compare to mine, but more importantly - I do it because I have the overwhelming desire to learn about people.

I must admit that I ask some people more questions than others. Not sure why... I'm sure there's an underlying reason for that.

I love to know what people like to eat, wear, do for a living, favorite tv shows and movies.. books... It's almost an obsession. And sometimes I have to stop myself from going overboard. And sometimes I don't stop myself in time.

So if I have invaded your life with questions...

Tough. ;-)

Randomness...

The sun is shining today... it's in the 40's. It's teasing me. I went out and played in it for a while, and it's true what they say. I feel refreshed, regenerated, happy... lots of energy and thoughts flying through my head. Enjoying this feeling while it lasts.

Finally came up with the topic for my novel. I thought long and hard. (I said long and hard lol) You should write what you know. I know scrapbooking. I know friends. I have a Cell. I think that's my start.

Had blood drawn this morning. Checking cholesterol (ooh I spelled it right)and sugar... when they tested me 3 weeks ago I hadn't fasted long enough. The doctor was wrong and so they had to stick me again. Totally fasting. But I was a big girl and only whined on 2 message boards, 2 email accounts, many texts and facebook.

I'm not eating enough. My new NorthFace pants that cost WAY too much money are falling down. My new jeans are a size ONE. I recognize that I have a problem. I will try to do better. Starting tomorrow. Since all I've had all day long is one slice of cold pizza... and it's 4:05pm. Now it's too close to dinner to eat anything, right?

I'm on day 204! Feel better than I have in years... I should have done this a long time ago. I finally get healthy that way, and now I don't eat. Go figure.

Going to see Bodies tomorrow... with Dave and Cathy, their daughter and her boyfriend. Meeting for breakfast, then a charter bus trip into Manhattan. SO excited about this... spending the day in the city, then back to Rockaway and out to dinner. Good friends... love being with them.

And yes - I will be wearing my new jeans and my new boots. (wink)

Yet... again.

My altoid tin... and I have it filled with things that haven't happened YET, but will.

Quirks and Obsessions

We all have them. There was a time I thought I was alone in my weirdness, but message boards and facebook made me realize that you people are ALL nuts.

My quirks have an OCD base. That's where they were born.

Like having to put on my left sock or left shoe first. It's a quirk, but it's part of my OCD'ness.

Now, being ascared of that pasta? Who knows... that's just weirdness. Or left turns? Probably from my accident 22 years ago, but you'd think I'd be over that by now.

I can't listen to a heart beat. I will never lay my head on someone's chest and listen. Freaks me the hell out. I almost passed out doing the StressEcho because I could watch my heart beat. I'm not sure why that is. Am I ascared that your heart will stop beating while I'm listening?

I obsess over myself. I pick apart every inch, mind and body. I obsess over other people. I become attached to inanimate things - like message boards and facebook.

Yet things that I should be ascared of.. I'm not. I love snakes. Spiders don't bother me. I love gore. I love disgusting things. I love horror films. Heights don't faze me in the least. I don't LOVE flying, (because I really hate crashing) but I don't let it stop me.

I eat the same things every day. I become attached to certain foods. Shredded Wheat cereal for breakfast. Low fat vanilla yogurt for lunch. Every day. For over a year.

Embrace your inner quirkiness. It's what makes you YOU. And I'm proud to be as weird as I am.

YET...

It's a little tiny word. But it's a word that I'm adopting for 2010. It's my secondary word.

To me it means my future. As in: I want this to happen, it just hasn't happened YET. Yet means it will happen. I don't HOPE that it happens, it WILL happen. I just need patience until it does.

I'm going to write a book. I just haven't done it YET.

I'm going to be happy. I'm just not happy YET.

Summer is going to come, it's just not here YET.

See? Yet. Little word. Big future.

Random thoughts...

My last night of bachelorette-dom. I have done a whole lotta nuttin' for the past 4 days. Work, home, eat, play on the computer, read. I haven't even turned the tv ON! And I don't miss it... (it being the tv - not the husband)

Had a good scare Sunday night - I was awakened at 2:30am by a female voice outside my bedroom window... peeked outside to see a teenage girl on her cell phone, huddled by the fence, 10 feet from my window. Stupid kid. I put the overhead light on for a moment, and watched her run away... the adrenaline kept me up the rest of the night. I did the same kind of stupid things as a teen, so I can't get too angry with her. But she cost me a night's sleep, so if I ever find out who she is, I will take revenge.

My word for 2010 is "Esteem". Because I need to raise my self-esteem, considering that it's down lower than the gutter. I try to tell myself every day that I am a good and worthwhile person. (I don't believe myself every day)

Work is challenging. Going through a very bad time at the office right now - lots of murky undertones... backbiting... anger. Seriously considering a career move. Like into retirement.

Still trying to resolve frustrating health issues... sometimes the cure is worse than the illness.

Still losing weight - and I know that I should stop now. But it's almost like a dare. I'm back to my old metabolism - able to drop or gain 2 pounds in a day... and I'm addicted to my walking.

Tomorrow I hit Day 175. That amazes me. I am almost at the 6 month mark. I never thought I could do it. But I'm so glad I did.

I did a LO about it.



And on that note... I think I'll go play on facebook.