EKG

I went to the doctors yesterday because I've been having palpitations for over a week now (12 days to be exact) non stop.  Scary I know right?  Long story short: my heart is fine, nothing to worry about.  I am here today to talk about the horror that was my experience with having an EKG.  Most people know, it's a very simple non scary procedure. I mean they put the little sticky things over your chest and hook them up for about a minute and read how your heart is functioning.  Pretty mundane and boring really, so why was my experience a horror you ask?  I'm fat and have saggy boobs.  Some of this is from breast feeding, but I have always been more endowed then the average woman with F cups.  Yes, I've said it, I'm freakishly large.  Well the problem with being so freakishly large is- they are not perky, and haven't been for as long as they got that large.  (I envy those with perky breasts)  If you see a woman well-endowed who has perky breasts they are either VERY well supported or they are fake!  I promise you. 
Anyway, due to the sagging I have experienced most of my life I find that when I lie down on my back I have one of two problems: 1- they are lonely and want to visit my face, thereby almost chocking me in their excitement of a visit, or 2- they get very shy and hide in my armpits for warmth and secrecy.  This day they were shy.  I had a 20-something nurse flopping my left breast all around putting sticky things under, over and around my boob.  Then it started all over again when she had to connect the wires to said sticky things.  Couldn't they be done at once?  She covered me up between forays, why?  it was just the two of us, she has already seen all there is to see.  So what was the point?  Does she have short term memory loss and wanted to be surprised all over again in one minute?  When it was over-- less than 5 minutes from when it started-- she came at and started the humiliation all over again.  Why does she have to remove the wires first and  come back for the sticky things?  Couldn't she have just ripped them off and removed the wires after?  I mean one less bought of flip-flopping breast is a plus in my book, I just know she had a hidden smirk when my eyes were closed, comparing her perky and high breasts to mine which by this time were so embarrassed that I think they have taken up permanent residence in my armpits.  I mean it's over 24 hours later and they still won't come out!

Violated!

For those of you few who might read this, I fully realize I am most likely writing this only for myself, my baby brother got married this weekend.  I am so very happy for him and his lovely bride.  It was truly a perfect wedding, like a fairytale.  (Am I spreading it a little thick?)  I actually mean it.  I have been to my share of weddings, and it was the most beautiful and enjoyable wedding I've ever been to.  Every detail was seen to, and I don't think there is anything that could have been changed to make it better than it was.  Really, I'm not just saying that because it was my brother.
We stayed at the Atlantic House hotel in York Beach, Maine.  What an amazing and hospitable place, I could easily see myself living there.  My parents had a beautiful suite, and I had an adjoining room.  What made this all the better is the parents of the bride generously paid for the entire hotel.  Well, you know what I mean.  The only suite we didn't use was one on the fourth floor belonging to the comedian Dane Cook. ( that's a whole other story that I was happy to share with the whole wedding party while we were there.)
 The living room:

 The 52" screen tv in my room, the fireplace, closet and bureau

 My bed was beautiful, and even more important it was super comfortable.

 A full size kitchen!  Say what?

 This was the door into the adjoining suite with the bathroom door to the right.

 This is a picture of the jacuzzi tub with rainfall shower.  It was absolutely beautiful.  However, the side came up to my mid-thigh, so I had to lift my leg up high to get over the edge of the tub, then I had to go over about 1/2 a foot, and go down even lower than the floor.  This makes for a very interesting bathroom experience for someone who is somewhat vertically challenged at 5'5".  So my first night I decided I needed to try out the jacuzzi tub, as I've never used one before.  I started to fill up the tub, but I also wanted to try the rainfall shower, So I climbed/fumbled my way into the tub, was thoroughly enjoying myself in the bath when I was overcome with the need to go pee.  What the hell to do? Here I am in a beautiful tub which is filling up with water, so peeing in the tub is out, (I refuse to sit in my own pee, I'm sure you can understand and hopefully agree with me.  If you don't, please stop reading and leave my blog site, we clearly are not on the same page.)
So I very gracefully (not) hoisted my overly voluptuous body out of the tub ( looked a lot like landing a large aquatic, unattractive fish/ creature), and dripped water all over the floor as I waddled to the toilet, used the facilities.  Then I had to roll/flop my way back into the tub.  Now, from here on till I got out for the night I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  Very relaxing, if only there was a ladder to get in and out I would have one installed in my house.
But what does this have to do with being violated you ask?  Unless, I am saying that I was violated in the tub, then nothing, I just found it as an amusing little side tale.  Now for the real story.  I was violated by no less than three of my family members at the reception.  I know, I know, unbelievable!  But it's true.  I have a couple of cousins on my mothers side that came to the wedding, I was sitting at their table.  I was so happy to see them and get to spend time with them, as I have not seen a lot of them over the years due to family "issues" that had to do with the older generation, not us, we were just collateral damage. ( Another long story that doesn't bear getting into) needless to say, we are reunited and it feels so good.  Well, one of my cousins was so excited to be at the wedding that she was a dancing fool at the reception, including rubbing her breasts against me multiple times without my consent.  Very disturbing, but it didn't stop there- another cousin of mine who was "feeling no pain"  started rubbing herself and her breasts against my body as well.  Did someone pin a sign on my back saying molest me please?  But only family allowed?  I mean, it's been a while, I wouldn't have minded if it had been a cute drunk GUY molesting me, it would have been the most action I've seen in years.  Cause guess what?  Hopefully-soon-to-be-ex still has not filed.  Why you ask?  No idea, he won't talk to me about it.  But I'm not bitter...........well, not too bitter.........ok, not completely bitter.
But on with the story:  I then had my uncle, whom I love to death, but was incredibly drunk grab me 2 times and try to dance with me, I'm not a big fast dance dancer as I've always been too self-conscience to really let go and dance.  So I pulled away, both times he pulled me back for a kiss.  Don't know if he was too drunk to care or unable to close his lips, but I certainly don't need to be kissed with an open mouth by my UNCLE!  The second time I slipped out of his grasp on the dance floor he then proceeded to pin me in a corner, pressing his body against mine and tell me "I wore her out.  I. Wore. Her. OUT."  I am assuming he was speaking about his wife, and that he wore her out on the dance floor, but really?  Did I need to be accosted this way from my uncle?  Then he kissed me again, with the same problems as the first kiss.  This is why I feel violated, and not in a good way!
The girl in the middle is one of the violators!

 This is the other cousin violator with my brother.

Dragonflies

I have always loved dragonflies.  I'm not sure why I've always found them so beautiful and fascinating, but there you are.  Several years ago I was out with friends and we all got tattoos.  Mine was of a dragonfly.

My husband was disgusted.  Told me he would never have sex with me again.  4 months later I was pregnant with our son.  So much for sticking to his convictions.....
Anyway, my mother was another one who was not happy about the tattoo.  Once she got over me having a tattoo, she was most upset of the placement.  It is on my chest, just above my left breast.  She likes to tell me that when I'm a little old lady ( see previous post....I'm well on my way) it will be all stretched out and look like a praying mantis.  I however an looking forward to the day when I'm 85 and living in a nursing home and known by all the nurses and CNA's as "draggingfly"  I think it's funny, and I assume that I will continue to have my own unique sense of humor as I grow old. 
Everyone should have a nickname and I think mine will be fitting when the time comes.

If I could be serious for a moment

Hi. I have talked to a couple of people who have read my blog posts in the recent past. From these discussions I feel the need to be serious for a moment and clarify the reason for this blog.
This blog is not, never has, and never will be a forum for me to complain about others, blather on about the woes of my life and/or for others to feel sorry for me. I am writing because I was told (wrong or right) that I was funny and I should. I write to show you the reader that while my life holds some hard moments, there can be another way to look at them. I do not believe that my life is any harder than anyone elses. It's just different. I'm not better, more virtuous, funnier or better looking than others, I'm just weird. Strange in my way of thought if you will.
Don't get me wrong, I have my moments of self pity, and what glorious moments they are. But that is not the point of this blog. This is to take a look at moments in my life and find the humor in them, show you that it can be done, and if I can do it, anyone can. For me, it's much easier to get through life with a laugh than with a snot-filled nose and red puffy eyes. My hope is to make you laugh along with me, or at least bring a smile to your face.
And for the record. It still is all about me! ;-)

Paranoia

So I have this "friend". Every time she posts something on facebook (inspirational sayings, funny posts) her soon-to-be-ex is so paranoid he feels the need to ask her if they were meant about him. It may be hard for my "friend" to move on with her life with him being so front and center in her life, but this does not mean that her world revolves around him.
My "friend" likes to put up quotes that inspire her. If she's been hurt by someone (not always/ not even usually her soon-to-be-ex) or about things she needs to work on in her life and herself.
Why then, is the ex so paranoid that every time one of these quotes are posted, he is asking "her" if it was about him. Does this mean that he knows that because of his actions they could apply to him? Does he feel guilty? Is he worried that everyone else will automatically think it's about him? Food for thought.....
Sure glad MY hopefully-soon-to-be-ex isn't like that. ;)

Update on my stalker

So I just heard from my friend that our stalker is back to harassing her.  I guess I'm just not stalking material.  I did find out that he lives a block down the road from me!!!  Yikes!  Let's hope he never realizes how close I am to him as he might turn his attention back to me, and no matter how much I joke, I really really don't want that.  It's one thing to have an old scary "friend" harass you on facebook, it's a whole other kind of crazy to have him showing up on my doorstep.  Let's keep a low profile shall we?

"You're at 'that' age."

I have to say, I am really starting to hate that phrase.  My right wrist has been sore for a month now.  It's not getting better anytime fast.  OK, a little history first:  I was mowing the lawn and fell on my wrist and butt.  Not my most graceful moments I know.  The first thing I did was panic and look around frantically to see if anyone saw me.  When I realized no one had seen, I was grateful, but by then my wrist was throbbing.  A week later my son attacked me and re-injured my wrist.  Yeah me!
After the "attack" I was feeling down and went to Dunkin Donuts and  decided to treat myself.  This is what they did!!!!

Did you see it?  A senior citizen discount!  Let's get this straight: I am not even 40 yet.  I like saving money and receiving deals, but this one did not make me feel better.  In the least.  Really.
Then, the next week I went to the Dr.s  I know it was my neurologist, but I did tell him about how my wrist has been taken so long to heal.  This is when I heard the dreaded line: "Well, You are at that age."
How does he know?  Who decides what "that age" is?  I certainly do not feel like I've reached it----- until I try to bear weight on my wrist---- or get out of bed in the morning.  I've even caught myself making noises when standing up from a seated position.  Oh goodness--- I have reached that age!
I wake every morning thinking I'm still 16 years old- until I move- then I think "oh crap".  But then again I think I'm a size 2 until I see myself in the mirror, or God forbid see my shadow.  So maybe there's hope, maybe I'm not "at that age" but merely delusional in my abstract thinking.  I'll go with that..............