Cranky Fibro Girl

Harnessing the healing power of snark

Great Imponderable Mysteries of the Universe #3

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This is our screened in porch, where the cats spend most of their time.

tail

This is our backyard.

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Notice the absence of any large bodies of water.

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This is our screened in porch from the outside. See how there’s nothing underneath it?

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So having shown you all of this, I know that when I tell you that recently I was unable to make the cats come into the house because they were fascinated with a creature who had come inside our porch to visit with them, you will of course say, “Well clearly that visitor was a frog!” And you would be right! (Apparently all the local lizards were busy that day.)

Because an enclosed porch in the middle of suburban Atlanta with no water in sight is The First Place a person would check when they are looking for a frog.

Not.

(PS-As awesome as it would have been to get a picture of this, I was unable to due to my freaking out at the appearance of wildlife on my screened in porch and my yelling for my husband. And while I could have then snapped a quick shot once my husband was in control of the situation, the poor frog had been covered with so much cat hair that we were afraid it was suffocating, and my husband had to dunk it in the birdbath as quickly as possible in order to revive it.)

Things That Make You Say, “What?!”: Signs

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Those of you who know me and/or who have read my blog for any length of time are extremely familiar with my super-human love of the word “ass” and my deep desire to work it into conversations whenever it is humanly (and humorously) possible.

So as I was driving this weekend I saw what was quite possibly The Most Awesome Sign Ever because it was offering

“Stained
Ass
Classes”.

Dude-sign me up! I am there!

Things That Make You Say, “What?!”: People Who Do NOT Pay Attention

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So I had to go to the doctor today thanks to The Gamers, who have apparently been spending this last month taking turns being the host body for this really icky sinus infection.

As if I weren’t feeling badly enough already, what with the illness, and then the having to step onto a scale and get weighed IMMEDIATELY upon exiting the waiting room, the doctor apparently decided to go ahead and diagnose me without all the pesky bother of actually examining me.

“So you’re 4 weeks into it,” she said as she came into the room. “Are you late often?”

What? WHAT?! Whose chart are you looking at, lady?! I know I’m a little out of it, but those are not the answers I gave the nurse when she was taking down my symptoms.

I’m not here because I think I’m pregnant. I’m here because I think I have a sinus infection. Because, as far as I know, being pregnant does NOT cause you to feel like there is a monkey trying to hack its way through your eardrum with a very dull hatchet which has been heated to the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.

Fortunately she did condescend to examine the parts of me that were actually affected, and at the end she actually gave me an actual prescription for actual medications for the actual condition that I actually have. And she did not try to force me into the stirrups so that she could take a little rambling stroll around the inside of my pelvis. (An excellent choice on her part.) I guess the bulging volume of infected fluid pounding against my eardrum convinced her that I was not “faking” the symptoms of a sinus infection in order to mask the fact that I was actually there to receive pre-natal care.

So here I am two prescriptions and two injections later, realizing that there is nothing quite like Someone Who Ignores Your Truth to make you feel invisible and 5 years old again. That, and having to take your pants off in order to get your shots.

Not Quite As Clever As I Thought

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Yesterday I had to sign into one of my many online accounts so that I could order a refill for one of my prescriptions. Unfortunately I had forgotten my password, but luckily there was a link I could click on that would give me a password “hint”.

I expected it to be a question that I had to answer like, “What year did you graduate from college?”, or “What was the name of your first pet?”

But clearly I had forgotten who I am. Because when I clicked on that link, I saw this:

“The hint for your password is…’ham’.”

HAM.

What?!

Clearly “cleverness”+me=not a good idea At All

Things That Make You Say, “What?!”: The Day After

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So we’re back from the wedding, which was wonderful, and OF COURSE I have things to blog about!

All of the relatives who stayed in Raleigh last night met for breakfast this morning in the lobby of our hotel. Of course there was much rehashing of the previous day’s events and comparing of notes since we had all left the reception at different times.

There were lots of questions like, “Were you here for the circle dance?”, or, “Were you here when they brought in the second meal?”, but by far the best question of all was, “Were you here for the fire?” (No, dammit! We totally missed it.)

Then it was time to leave for the restaurant, but before we did we wanted to make sure that we had made a reservation for the correct number of people. My mom couldn’t figure out why the actual number of people there did not match the number of people on her list, so my husband went over to help her. He discovered that the discrepancy was due to 2 people having been left off the list: namely, he and I.

“Oh. Then I’m sorry I showed that to you then,” my mom said, because she didn’t want our feelings to be hurt. (They weren’t).

Then my aunt (her sister) piped up. “Notice that she didn’t say she was sorry she left you off the list, only sorry that she showed you the list!”

Things That Make You Say, “What?!”: Spam

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Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

An unfortunate side effect of my blog gaining more and more visibility is that it is apparently also bringing me to the attention of more and more spammers.

Usually I don’t even look at the spam, preferring instead to spend my time strengthening my spam filters and wishing for a way to somehow attach a tiny but powerful blowgun to all spammers’ computers, so that anytime they even thought about sending out more spam they would instantly be flooded by a multitude of sharp, poisonous darts.

But the other day I received an email that actually made me stop in my tracks and do a double take and, committed as I am to bringing you the humor in everyday life, I can’t not share it here:

“Hi, may i present you freshest hot stuff? 😉

I am ready to kill myself and eat my dog, (emphasis mine) if medicine prices here are bad.

Look, the site and call me 1-800 if its wrong..

My dog and I are still alive :)”

Phew! I’m so relieved that enough people were sucked in by your scheme that you have not been forced to commit horrible acts of violence against yourself or your pet!

Things That Make You Say, “What?!”: Competition

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My husband and I are really competitive people. Like, really competetive. Especially over goofy stuff.

For example, he and I were recently playing a board game with 3 other couples, and on more than one occasion we caused the entire game to ground to a screeching halt because we were arguing with each other over whose turn it was to read the question to the other players.

“Wow,” said one woman. “You’d never know by looking at them how competitive they are.”
“It doesn’t really matter who reads the question,” said her husband, in a futile attempt at making peace.
“OH IT MATTERS!” I retorted triumphantly, as my husband finally admitted that, yes, he had read the last question, and that it actually was my turn to read, and handed me the card in grudging resignation.

However, today at the bookstore I saw something that made me feel SO MUCH BETTER about myself and my competitiveness, that I just had to post about it here. It was a book entitled, Eat This Book: A year of gorging and glory on the competitive eating circuit.

There apparently exists in this world a Competitive. Eating. Circuit.

So clearly, I could be A Lot worse.

PS-For another humorous look at competition, check out today’s Story of the Day at StoryPeople.