FML

I’ve had cold-like symptoms for a week now; runny left nostril, stuffy right.  Dry eyes that weep and a cough-

Omg the cough is off the chain!!   It’s not a mild cough that clears an obstruction in the airway, naw–  it’s a cough where you inhale, sucking all the air from the room then exhale through a violent force performed by all 640 skeletal muscles contracting at the same time.  The kind of cough that peels the lining from your lungs and makes you feel like you drank fire.   But there is an upside to all the coughing; free workout.  I feel like I’ve been through one hellavuh ab boot camp!

I went to the clinic today.  Wait.  Lemme stop you right there for a second.   I hate the word, “clinic.”  It sounds so –nasty.  I don’t know why except that it makes me think think of where abortions are performed, where needles can be exchanged and where cheaters go to find out if they have an STD.  

Ok so I’m at the “Little Clinic,” inside the supermarket and I’ve checked in.  The tech asked me what my symptoms were and I told her that it felt like I may have bronchitis.  Then she looked at me, told me it was her first day and could I spell, “Bronchitis,” for her?!?   Fml.

During the check-up I’m asked a series of questions and I answered them all while staring at the doctors mole.  It was huge and it had hair poking out of it from every direction….  Gross.   It was probably the most horrific thing I’ve ever seen outside of my dog eating it’s own vomit.  No joke!  The worst part; I have just gotten glasses and I was wearing them –   I’m not use to wearing glasses for vision, just for sun… I didn’t realize that the doc could see my eyes staring at her mole.  Embarrass.  Anyway, the tech comes over to take my vitals while the doc kept asking me questions that pertained to nothing regarding my reasons for being there.   The tech tells me that my BP is 98/77 and asked ME if that was normal.  Really? Then tells the doc, “No way she has a fever, her temp is 95.”    I sat there for a few seconds trying not to be an asshole.  It really took all I had in me to be nice. 

After a quick check of the ears and nose I’m told that I probably have a sinus infection and that’s why I’m coughing.   (I didn’t know sinus infections could make you cough up your f’ing spleen!)  Doc sent a prescription of amoxicillin over to the pharmacy and told me to, “feel better soon.”    I just blinked at her.   I didn’t know what to say–  my vitals suggested that I’m nearing death, she gave me a probable cause and prescription for amoxicillin –       Amoxicillin???  I wanted to tell her I wasn’t 4 years old and could swallow pills but I just wanted to go home.     

I got home and ate some ice cream and Oreo’s then opened the bag from the pharmacy.  Inside was two prescriptions: amoxicillin and Difucan. Shit.  I forgot that the cillin’s can cause yeast. (Fml again).       I noticed that the amoxicillin bottle was kinda large.  Then I opened it.  Lord hamercy-  the worst smell ever came wafting out.  Lemme help you understand- if Easter eggs and sauerkraut had a baby, it would be amoxicillin.   ūüė∑.   To top it all off, the pills are huge.  I’m not kidding.   So now, as though my bi-polar sinuses and violent coughing isn’t enough I get to add swallowing quarter sized antibiotics to the list.

Fml

  

Day 111 – Haters gon’ hate

My youngest just celebrated her 13th birthday. It’s a milestone in any young persons life- to become a teenager.¬†¬† Truth be told, Danielle has always been an old soul.¬† Even when she was a toddler she preferred to hang out with adults.¬† She has always had a grown-up vocabulary and a grown-up attitude.¬† Danielle enjoyed learning to knit and cook over going outside to play with pals.¬† I use to worry about her not acting like a kid-¬† I felt like she was missing out on a lot of good things, like the making of mud-pies and secret forts.¬†¬†¬† I guess most good parents worry that their kids aren’t being kids and that they are trying to grow up to quickly.

Danielle was born two months early. She weighed a tiny 4lbs, 15oz and dropped another pound within days of her arrival. Her skin was on the clear side and being half Japanese, her almond shaped eyes made her look like an alien baby.¬† She was a skinny, ugly newborn.¬† Truth.¬† I think most parents think they have a pretty baby at birth– guess what people.. you don’t.¬† Your baby is ugly so just accept it and move on. Hopefully they will outgrow it.¬† Oh- so you think that¬† because people tell you how, “precious” your baby is means that your baby is cute?¬† HAHAHA Wrong!!¬† People only tell you that you have a cute baby because they’re being nice and well.. because you’re hormonal and no one wants to deal with your bitchiness.¬†¬†¬† I am one of those rare people who will use code words for ugly babies like..”Oh my, look at her little nose,” or, “Oh wow, he’s a big boy isn’t he?”¬†¬† hahaha Just because I avoid the truth doesn’t mean I can’t see it.¬† Everyone sees it but no one wants to tell someone else that their new baby looks like Quasimodo.¬†¬†¬† Ah co’mon, don’t be like that, is it really worth getting pissed over? I was the first to say that my baby was ugly!!

As I said, Danielle is half Japanese; the other half is a mix of English, Irish and French. Blue eyes and red hair run wild in my bloodline and I was scared to death that Danielle would come out with that twisty, carrot-top orange hair and blue eyes. Could you imagine how much worse my skinny alien baby would have looked as a blue eyed ginger?

I took Danielle in for her first check-up after birth to be told that it would take about 2 years for her to catch up to the other kids her age.¬† As she grew she put on weight and turned into a beautiful, picture-perfect baby.¬† A few more months passed and my pretty baby grew into a fat little sumo.¬† Danielle looked like two balls stacked on top of each other and her almond shaped eyes smashed into slits. She was ugly again.¬† I didn’t know she was ugly though- I had on mommy-blinders and couldn’t see it at the time.¬† Looking back at her baby pictures… wow.

When Danielle started walking her chubby face and fingers melted away.  The delicate Japanese features were now prominent. She had Caucasian hair that grew into soft flowing strands with flips on the end. Her slit shaped eyes rounded back into almonds and her sickly skin tone turned creamy.  Danielle looked like Japanese anime (she sort of still does).

At 2 1/2 years old we were begged to audition for the Ivory soap baby.¬† We didn’t because I didn’t want that life for her.¬† We have been approached by Disney-¬† which was also turned down.¬† Today Danielle is bullied not because she ugly, but because she isn’t.¬†¬† As I said earlier, Danielle has always preferred the company of adults over other kids. She grew up mimicking well spoken women who took pride in their appearance. Danielle is a girlie-girl who loves her clothes, hair and make-up. She is smart and super funny.¬† She is talented in music and dance and I guess at times, she comes across as some sort of rich snotty kid.¬† But she isn’t. It’s crazy to me that people are mean to her because she cares for herself.

She was an ugly baby!!¬† It’s not her fault she grew out of it.

Happy 13th princess!!
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Day 54 – TMI

I wasn’t going to write about this, and then I was like, “Aw, what the hell, we’re family!”¬† Now I know there are some thing that most people wouldn’t share with anyone else, but I am not one of those people. So here goes an embarrassing moment-

Early in the week I woke up feeling like something wasn’t quite right when I sat down. Let me go a little further so you understand what I’m talking about. Have you ever went #2 and when you were done, it felt like your insides came out, and when you stand up it felt like they go back in super slow?¬† Anyway, when that happens I say it feels like the pink glove is out; as in the lining of my colon. HAHAHA Wait– there’s more.¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† Ok so Wednesday this week I had this sensation. At first I didn’t think too much about it except that it was weird and uncomfortable.¬† The next day I woke up feeling the same way and I began to worry so I felt the need to take a peek.¬† (This is where this story gets funny- keep reading)

I’m thinking I need a shower anyway so I might as well do this thing now. I strip off all of my clothes, climb up on the vanity and bend over. Jason Mraz’s lyrics come flooding from my lips, “I’ve been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror and bending over backwards to try to see it clearer- but my breath fogged up the glass…” yeah you know the song.¬† Aaanyway, so I’m bent over trying to see if anything is going on near the backdoor and that’s when it occurred to me that if I fell, I’d fall into the textured wall, scrap the meat off of my face and then die from blunt force trauma to the frontal lobes when I landed face first onto the tiles below. (yes, this is how my brain works- keep reading)¬† Before I got down from the vanity I saw it; a little bluish-purple bump the size of a raisin.¬† At first I almost freaked out thinking it was a tick and how if I didn’t get the head off that its body would regenerate and it would crawl up into my body and eat important things and I’d be on “1000 Ways To Die” and that is not how I want things to end. Lawd knows my friends don’t need another story to tell on me when I die– hahahaha (yes, there’s that many) I get down from the vanity and had a better idea; a make-up mirror. Grabbing the Covergirl face powder I open it and put it between my legs.¬† “What the hell is that?” So I did what any normal person would do in 2015, I Wedmd’ed that bitch. Per the symptom checker its most likely a hemorrhoid¬†but¬†it could be a tick bite, neither of which made me very happy.

I went to Walmart and stood in the aisle where Preparation H is and omg- – I can’t even tell you how awful that was. I’m silly and I like to do crazy things to make other people laugh but I’m really quite shy when it comes to personal stuff (yeah, yeah I know I’m telling you about it but like I said, we’re family, so it’s ok) In this aisle there are too many selections. There’s ointments, creams, gels.. pads, suppositories.. o.m.g.¬†¬†¬†¬† My husband and I are standing there and I say to him, “Do you think it’s ok to go with a generic for something like this?”¬† He died laughing. Then I tell him I don’t even know how to do it– like, did I need to put it on like lotion??? He has been around me way too long… he holds up a pointer finger as to say I need to cram it in with a finger. I turn ghetto when things around me need lightened up; like, Madea ghetto.¬† I blurt out in my best ghetto tone, “The hell?¬† I’m not sticking my finger up my ass!!!!”¬† He laughs. I laugh.¬†¬† He tells me he thinks that there is some sort of applicator to use. I stand there with a look on my face that says, “Uh uh. Nope, not sticking a nipple in my ass. Not Happening.” ¬†¬† My husband, trying to be helpful points out the suppositories. What is wrong with this man?¬† First it’s a finger, then a nipple and now a freaking miniature Christmas tree – – –¬† NO!!!!!!!

I went with the generic ointment because it was cheaper and it said, “ointment,” which meant to me it would kill whatever was growing. (Hell, I dunno.¬† I’m new at this old thing.)

Friday I went to the doctor for my back. I had been out two days before digging my daughter’s car out from the snow and apparently pulled meat off of my spine or something. ¬† He comes in asking me about what’s going on and I tell him about my back and how my right arm is hurting. As he’s typing I think it might be a good idea to tell him about — you know what.¬† Mistake. He handed me a paper sheet and told me to strip down from the waist; he left.

While he was gone I stripped down to my socks, climbed back on top the exam table and covered myself with the paper sheet. He and his nurse come in and he says, “It’s easier if you lie on your side and pull your knee up towards your belly.”¬† (WTH???¬† Didn’t I just tell you my back hurt when I twist?)¬† I did what I was told. This man is trying to have a conversation with me about what he’s doing down there. I was thinking to myself, “no shit Sherlock- I can feel what’s going on down there. You have your finger crammed in my no-no square.¬† Do you think I can’t feel that??”¬† I was so embarrassed. Then I heard, ‘thrombosis’ and some other medical terms…¬†¬† He tells me to sit on up and hands me a box of tissues. Said when I was dressed to crack the door and he’d be back in to talk to me.¬† I giggled and did a Beevis & Butthead, “huh huh.. you said crack.” in my mind, but only smiled and said, “ok.”

There I am with paper-thin tissues trying to wipe 2 tons of goo out of my crack. Good grief.¬† What’s up with all the excess lube?¬† And what’s up with the crunchy tissues?¬† I know he’s not broke; he needs to buy some Kleenex Aloe or something for these..delicate situations.¬† Geeze.

He comes back in to tell me I have a 1st stage roid. He also tells me that there’s nothing I can do for it but to put cream on it until it shrinks- however it will never go away completely, this is for life.¬† This man was not making my day better.¬†¬† I sat there for a few seconds before I turned into my usual amusing self, then I said, “Well I guess I’ll call him ‘Gary'”¬† The doc asked me who I was going to call, Gary?¬† I told him I was going to call my roid Gary- that he needed a name since we were going to be best good friends for the rest of our lives. He just blinked at me. ¬† As he typed up all the notes I asked him how it got there, because it wasn’t there one day and when I woke up, it was.¬† The doc said it was from straining.¬†¬† I blurted out, “Uh uh. I didn’t strain!! My poops not hard!!”¬† He blinked at me again.¬† He said, “You. were. shov-e-ling. snoooow…”¬† I hate when people talk to me like that.¬†¬† I’m not stupid, you ain’t gotta enunciate and draw words out like I don’t understand English. Dick.¬†¬† Then the doc adds, “Until its the size of an olive we can’t surgically remove it.”¬† I’m thinking, “Wait. What?¬† An olive?¬† This thing can grow to the size of an olive??¬† Uh uh, Aint nobody got time for olives. I don’t even like olives.” 😨 Now I just blink at him with a wtf look on my face.¬†¬† I guess he tried to make me feel better when he said, “It’s not a big deal, they’ll just go in there and put a band on it and it will fall off in 3 or 4 days.”

I sit there for maybe 3 seconds before my brain filter dislocated.¬† I question, “They (because it apparently takes more than one to change that light bulb) go in my butt and put a rubber-band on my roid- and it will fall off, like a dogs tail…¬† then where the hell does it go?¬† The olive-roid is just in there, like, lost in my body?”¬† Again he blinks at me and tells me there’s nothing to worry about right now and handed me papers to take to the check-out.

Later on I had my husband run to Walmart to pick up my meds. I didn’t want to haha I was too embarrassed.¬† When he came back¬† I opened the bag to find roid cream and a bottle of Fibercon pills.¬† The hell?¬† I snap at him and ask him why he bought me Fibercon pills. I thought he was trying to be funny- it’s sooo something I would do. He tells me he wasn’t being funny it’s what doctor J called in. (o.m.g.¬† I turned 40 and my body has lost it’s damn mind.)

preparation H - old time ad

Btw. The back issue… you know, the real reason I went to the doctor… its a strain in the right rhombus. Nothing a muscle relaxer and an anti-inflammatory won’t fix.

Day 38- Thoughts from a Nail Salon

As I sit and wait for my nails to be painted I look aroud and wonder how spoiled I am.¬† I mean, I pay $15- $20 every two weeks for someone else to paint a gel shellac on my nails instead of doing it myself.¬† I don’t get a manicure or a pedicure or acrylics, just paint that’s baked on so it lasts for a couple of weeks.¬† I have a thyroid disease – that means I have brittle hair and very flimsy nails. My nails, no matter what I do to them myself, peel like a wet paper towel. I’ve purchased all kinds of strengtheners and vitamins but the over-the-counter crap doesn’t work.¬† Only when I get gel baked on does it allow for nail growth and only when a woman has pretty nails does her hands look feminine.¬†¬† Your hands are the second thing, (maybe the first) that other people look at when they meet you.¬† Maybe you work in customer service, maybe you’re at a bar or maybe your paying for your groceries… whatever you’re doing, your hands are being looked at and you’re being judged. There’s really not much more that’s as unattractive as chewed up or dirty nails… well besides nasty teeth but that’s a whole other post haha.¬† (Oh no worries, I’ll cover bad dental hygein eventually¬† because it’s a huge peeve of mine)¬† Ok so this place is called, Pro Nail. What does that mean exactly? Do I get only one professionally painted nail and the other 9 get done by the 4 year old Cambodian kid that hangs out here?¬†¬†¬† Even so, it’s probably better than I could do myself 😂
I’m telling you what though, this place stinks to high heaven.¬† They need to open a damn door or something; geeze.¬†

I wonder what the Cambodian ladies who work here are taking about? They sound angry when they converse. Are they yelling?¬† It sounds juicy and I want to know what they’re saying.

When did black and white stripe pants match pink and brown flowered shirts?¬† Oh… but those shoes are fab-a-luss. I want those shoes.

Picking a color is too hard. Why are there so many choices? Why isn’t there just like a red. A pink. An orange. A brown..? No that’s too easy so they have 35 shades of every base color to choose from. I think I’ll go with UK Blue.¬† Hell, why not?¬† Sports are really not my thing but at least I’ll look like I’m a member of the Wildcats club if I have blue nails and people will leave me alone. You see,¬† people don’t ask you questions about sports if they see you in UK blue & white.. they assume you’re one of them, but put on another color on game day and see what happens.¬† It’s like an Amish shunning. Smh.¬†

YES!!! Finally they opened the door. Thank God. I don’t know how much longer I could stand my brain slapping the backside of my eyeballs.¬†

*two minutes later*

Good feeling gone.  The lady who just bosses people around made me move from the second chair she put me in and moved me to a third.. away from the fresh air. (Sigh)

*takes two tylenol*

Ok I’m sitting here being a totally catty woman-¬† because her nails look like she’s gonna leave here and go train dragons or something.¬† She had acrylics put on but left them very long- painted them bright green with gold glitter at the tops, but one nail on each hand is red.¬† I don’t understand this. It’s ugly. Who pays for that??¬†¬† Was that the plan from the start or did she just have a mental breakdown?¬†

I don’t think I could get my eyebrows ripped out in from of everyone.¬† The sign about waxing has a long lists of waxable parts. Bikini wax. Ok that’s fine but… where do you go to get your bush ripped out?¬† There’s no other rooms that I can see.. ‘cept a bathroom.¬†

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

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-Willow

Day 37 – Sales

Today I was in the mall and I couldn’t help but to notice all the sales.¬† Can someone explain to me why there’s end of winter sales going on when winter is right outside my door- everyday for the past month AND will continue to be until the end of March?!?! Did they miss the groundhogs’ memo??¬† Plus Im not going to San Juan anytime soon therefore I don’t need shorts, tshirts or a bathing suit right now.¬† I definitely do not need sunblock, sandals or flips. Wth?¬†¬†¬†

I also saw all kinds of Valentines Day sales.¬† Ok.. here’s a few gripes about that:
(1) I would be deeply offended if my husband only showed his affections for me on the day (just 1) that they rest of the world has set aside for doing so and,
(2) If he does decide to buy into the commercialism of Valentine’s Day he better not be a cheap-ass and buy me a discounted gift. Hahahaha Nobody wants to see an almost peeled 40% off sticker on the bottom of their box of chocolates.¬† Please don’t take me the wrong way, I’m in no way trying to say I would be ungrateful for a discounted gift- I am the biggest penny pincher ever, but if I’m going to get a gift on a holiday that the world has dictated as a day for sweethearts to shown their love for one another, I better be worth full price.. that’s all I’m saying.¬† haha IM KIDDING!!!

A lot of people get their feelings hurt on Valentine’s Day because (1) the dont have a “Valentine,” or (2) they expect expensive flowers, Godiva chocolates and the Melting Pot for dinner and instead they get discounted chocolate and a stupid stuffed bear from CVS.¬†
If I were a dude, I’d totally breakup with my girlfriend before Valentine’s Day so I didn’t have to but her stuff- hahahaha Well…that’s because Valentine’s Day is a crock of shit.   Roses (that smell like a funeral home) that aren’t worth $25 a dozen are jacked up to $100 and the boxes of chocolate have like only 3 good ones in them; the rest are filled with that nasty-ass raspberry cream and because it’s Valentine’s Day people will pay too much for them.¬†¬† Every restaurant, including White Castle, is booked and that pisses people like me off.¬†¬†What if I just wanted a burger, man?   Speaking of White Castle, are you aware that they require reservations and they put white table clothes on the tables AND hold weddings on Valentine’s Day?? Nothing says, “forever” like a bag of sliders and a Big Red pop!!¬†¬† ūüėą
In all seriousness, I’m lucky that I have a good husband who shows me all year long how much he loves me.  The best trinkets are his little love notes and a mason jar full of daisy’s…, he gives the best back rubs.   Love doesn’t have to be purchased to be shown and it can be shown often…
It needs to be shown often…
It MUST be shown often.

Then later tonight we were out looking for a new couch and there’s all these President’s Day sales. . . Why?¬† Obama need a couch too? President’s Day is crazy to me…¬† we have one President and he doesn’t need a sale to be able to afford a couch plus he’s screwed up our health insurance so much, he should just give me a damn couch after how much we had to pay out of pocket to meet our family deductible!!!  Know what else is messed up about President’s Day?  The kids are home from school.   Gee thanks Obama.
President’s Day sales…¬† smh..¬†   and don’t forget to make your reservations.

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-Willow

Day 33- Playa del Carmen, Mexico

OK so I’m on this Caribbean cruise and making my first stop after two days at sea.¬† Playa del Carmen, Mexico.

As I said in the previous post, I had never been on a ship before so it never occurred to me that the ship would be too big to dock close to where I was suppose to get off.  When the doors opened I, along with several thousand others, stepped into small passenger shuttle boats that took us from the ship onto land.  Ok-  whatever works.

Once on Mexican sand I felt like I really accomplished something big.¬† I had not only taken my first flights, taxi ride and ship stay, now I was out of the US for the very first time. That’s a huge big deal.¬† (you never forget your first lol)¬† Upon first glance I wasn’t too impressed with Mexico.¬† It looked nothing like what I expected… but then again, I probably didn’t really know what to expect.¬† I assumed Mexico would be dirty and look impoverished – you know, like Texas does. (I can say that because I lived there) Playa del Carmen was very Americanized.

I had little interest in shopping in Mexico and didn’t want to waste my time in port on the strip. I did buy a gold charm etched with “Playa del Carmen” in a semi-circle above a palm tree. Not wanting to lose the charm I slid it onto my necklace with the intention to add it to my bracelet once back home. Seemed like a good idea– (keep reading) ¬† ¬† After spending a few bucks, I decided to flag down a taxi. I admit that I was slightly taken aback when this tiny, rusted blue, and beat all to hell Chevette came to a quick halt in front of me.¬† “Was this a taxi?”¬† I was a little confused and I didn’t just want to get into someones personal ride…. you know??¬† A big ole Mexican was pretty much shoe-horned into the tiny car so I just stood there like a huge goober because I didn’t know what else to do.¬† The man leaned over to the passenger side window and asked me if I wanted to go somewhere. My first thought was, ‘uh uh not with your kidnapping-ass.¬† I’ve seen dateline.’¬†¬† But then I realized he had a name tag on that said, “Frank” – – seemed legit. LMAO¬† Between his broken English and my very bad Spanish we got a plan together.¬† He agreed to take me to a beach away from the tourist area, a place where I could snorkel and he would come back for me in a couple of hours!!¬† Frank’ dropped me off at a beach that wasn’t overly crowded – was beautiful. When I went to pay him he said to wait until later–

As I traipsed through the soft sand with my backpack, I about tripped over a 200 foot iguana. The hell??!¬† Making my way over to a palm I came across a waiter carrying a tray of coconuts decorated with little umbrella’s and a straw – I thought, “Hell, why not?”¬† I bought one then planted my butt in the shade of the palm.¬† So there I sat, under my palm tree sipping on a coconut full of alcohol, minding my own business when a rather large woman (no less than 4 bills) decided to share the shade of my tree. Saying nothing, I continued to sip my coconut unfazed while she got butthole naked right there beside me, while changing into her bathing suit.¬† It really wouldn’t have been a big deal to me if she hadn’t bent over. OMG! Ass-crack for days!! I about choked, no joke. I have to admit, I watched the entire process from beginning to end, amazed by not her getting naked in front of an entire beach of people but rather by the fact she was wearing a two-piece bikini and her bush was hanging out of the sides of her bottoms.¬† That was enough excitement for me- was times to hit the Gulf.¬†¬† Unlike the shade-stealer, I had my bathing suit on under my cloths.¬† I stripped off my shorts and tank and crammed them into my backpack, slathered SPF9000 on my milky white skin, sucked down the last of the coconut nectar, grabbed my snorkel gear and headed out. ¬†¬† Man- I cannot tell you how awesome it was.¬†¬† So many big gorgeous fish, lots of coral (never touch the red ones), and brightly colored tropical fish littered the water.

Ok, so I’m floating around taking it all in when I see a long silver fish..¬†¬† with my snorkel sticking out of the water, I sat as motionless as the ebb and flow would allow.¬† That freaking fish was a barracuda, no less than 4 feet long.¬† I knew that damn thing had teeth and it would attack and it was sitting as motionless as I was, staring at me.¬† Wanna know why?¬† Remember that charm I slid onto my necklace back in Touristville? Well it was hanging down and clanking against another charm I had on my necklace. The sun was hitting it just right too… which basically made me lure. Shit. I slowly turned around and Michael Phelps’ed my ass back to shore.¬† As I was speed racing, I felt something bite me on the outside of my knee..I reacted by swatting at it, and it bit me again on my hand.¬† That was it, I was going to bleed to death in the Gulf of Mexico. I was being attacked by a killer barracuda and it had just taken my leg and my hand off– but I didn’t panic. I knew if I did I would probably not make it and I didn’t want my kids to have to identify my body, if in fact it ever made it back home, so I kept swimming until I got to the shallows where I could stand and run.

Gasping, I stood on the beach trying to catch my breath when I realized, I had my leg… and my hand. I laughed for like two seconds until I saw a red swirled pattern on the side of my knee. I looked at my hand – same thing. OMG!!¬† I WAS ATTACKED BY A FLIPPIN’ JELLY WHILE TRYING NOT TO BE EATEN BY A BARRACUDA!!!¬†¬† I hobbled over to the tiki hut that sold those tasty little coconuts and pointed to my inflamed swirl. The barmaid had me sit on a chair and she poured some sort of alcohol on it. It made it hurt worse for a few minutes but then it stopped.¬† I guess the alcohol neutralized the poison (shrugs)¬† When it was time, I walked back to the road to wait for Frank.¬† He came back just as promised.¬† He laughed and shook his head when he saw my leg.. he said, “I take you to Charlies.” I smiled but kept thinking to myself, “Holy mother of God, who is Charlie??”¬† ¬†¬† Frank sped down the gravelly road, swerving past other cars.¬† Many times I thought we were going to die in a head-on collision but at the very last second, the oncoming car would zig to Frank’s zag then they’d each continue to speed along. No wonder Frank’s car looked beat all to hell.¬† Frank stopped and pointed- I followed his finger with my eyes to a sign that said, “Carlos n’ Charlies.”¬†¬† He asked me the name of my ship- and asked me for more money than was due him- which I found a little curious.¬† I handed him a wad of cash and told him the name of my ship.¬† He nodded with a smile and waited for me to get out of his cab. I shrugged that little bit of weirdness off and head into Charlies.

omg Charlies was the most fun I ever had in my entire life (up to that point anyway)¬† I danced on the tables while strangers threw popcorn at me.¬† I started to get ticked off until it was explained to me that popcorn is thrown at good looking people; then I was like, oh ok.. toss away!! hahaha. I also made a few trips too many around the restaurant in conga line, making pit-stops at designated waiters so they could pour flavored tequila down my throat.¬† All I remember after that was making myself throw up in Charlies bathroom and stumbling outside.¬† I don’t know how long I sat there but I do remember Frank putting me into his cab and driving me to my shuttle boat.¬† I remember seeing my reflection in the brass doors inside the elevator on the ship. I knew I was trashed but tried so hard to pull my act together so no one else would know. Yeah, that’s funny.¬† Ever see a legally embalmed person trying to act normal? hahahahaha¬†¬† Somehow I made it back to my stateroom and slept it off without dying of alcohol poisoning.¬†¬† I’m really thankful for Frank because he knew just by looking at me that Charlies would kick my ass.¬† He was right. Now I know why he asked for extra money- it was to pay my debt before it incurred.

Smart man.

Charlies