Finally.

Some colorful photos on this here blog.

You likey?

Scrambled? Fried? Sold?

I just stumbled upon an interesting story on CNN.com.

The title? More Women Donating Eggs. Some Women Say They Donate For Money.

So, you know, I clicked on it...and found this out: 'A woman who passes the health and psychological screenings can get thousands of dollars in return for her donation.
"The donors will make in the area of $7,000," said Nancy Block, founder of the Center For Egg Options. In the Valley, Dr. Bruce Shapiro at the Fertility Center of Las Vegas said compensation is closer to $3,000 to $5,000."

Dude, five grand? Maybe seven?? Woo! Here's how the following conversation went between the Man and I:

Me: Honey, this article said women are donating eggs for financial reasons in this shit economy...

Man, barely looking up from his laptop: Really...

Me: I think I'm going to give one up, I could get seven grand!

Man, looking up quickly, with perplexed look: Honey?! no.

Me: Yeah, I'm doing it, I could give two, that's over ten grand. I'm sitting on thousands of dollars!

Man, half-smiling, half-not: You're not giving away eggs! (shakes head) What?! Why?? No.

Me: Why? Men give sperm up all the time! I'll just let them suck one outta me.

Man, now back to laptop. The discussion - for him - is over: No.

Okay, so no, I'm probably not selling my eggs. But let's think here - we're not planning on having kids, so my eggs are just going to dust out and die right? I have a virtual fortune hanging out in my mid-section!

You can read the rest of the story here.

I'm going to make lunch. Egg salad, of course :)

Maine means Lobstah!

I snapped that critter just before the Man devoured it.

We spent the weekend in Old Orchard Beach, a little north of Kennebunk Port, ME. This is where our buds spend their summers, and it's a perfect, quaint, fun little beach town. My new favorite place. We got there on Friday and came back home Monday morning. Here's the recap, in 'B' form...

Beach: Hell yes we beached it! Our three buds all lifeguard. We were on the beach all three days although Fri and Sat had the best weather. This is a shot of the beach on Sunday, kind of foggy out:


We got there Friday, tossed our stuff in our room (we stayed with one of them), changed into our suits and hit the beach. There's a ton of places to eat but we chose the one right on the beach and had some lunch - after which we sat in our chairs on the sand and people-watched. Here's a shot from my chair of the lifeguard booth and random beach-goers:

The water was a cool 68 degrees, the only day I went in was Sat. The other two days we hung on the beach with our buds (two of them had the weekend off) and random people...drinking and chatting, grabbing lunch...generally hanging out. Here's a shot of the amusement park right next to the beach (we didn't go there, the Man doesn't like rides...but the did look a little rickety):

Definitely relaxing and fun. Drinking on the beach on a gorgeous day with good friends is definitely one of my top three favorite things to do in life. Period.

Beers: Yum. I love beer. And I drank plenty of it over the weekend. There's no drinking allowed on the beach, so everyone hides their booze in plastic cups and BURIES their coolers. Can you stand how funny that is? They dig big 'ol holes, dump the cooler in it and cover the lid with a towel. It cracked me up for some reason. The Man is not a beer drinker, he enjoyed his favorite Crown Royal and Diet all weekend. We were hurting by Monday.

Baseball: The Sox let us down on Fri and Sat but they won their game on Sunday...the only game we watched.

Bars: We hit the bars each night. Friday night they all converge at Mr. Goodbar for music and dollar beers. Hello! Of course it was Pabst Blue Ribbon so I passed and drank a different kind. There's a reason it's only a buck :) Friday night we hit up a total four places, but I only remember three. Old Orchard has a huge pier just full of places to get your buzz on. Here's a shot from the beach of the pier - I'm told the white building at the end is where we ended up Friday night.



Here's a shot from inside the pier:

The Man and I stumbled home (short walk) after 1am. Sat night we hung out on the pier at Hurricanes where one of our friends was bartending. We stayed with him all night and stumbled home again after 1am - proving that we could hang with the young'uns. Sunday night we took it a little easier and skipped a little bit out of town to a pizza joint where four of us sat at the bar, ate, drank and watched the Sox. Our other bud had to bartend. We had plans to go see him but by 11:30 we were all wiped from the past two nights so we went home and hit the sack.

By Saturday afternoon the Man and I agreed that we will make several trips up to Old Orchard next summer. It's pure party-town up there...definitely a young crowd having a ton of fun with more than a little bed-hopping going on. The beach is beautiful, the restaurants are good, the stores are those fun little souvenir stores that I could get lost in for an afternoon. An A+ weekend for sure!

I'll leave you with a shot from under the pier:



Thank you Old Orchard, see you next year!~!~!

Completely tragic.

We came home from Maine yesterday afternoon, and for the next hours I was absorbed in my laptop as I didn't have it with me all weekend...and I ran across the just-happened story of Catherine and Ben Mullany.

You can read it here, here and more here - but let me give you a quick summary:

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They got married on July 12, in England, both 31. Two days after their marriage they flew to Antigua for a two-week honeymoon. On their last night of vacation, just a day or two ago, around 5am, a person - or persons - broke into their resort room and shot both of them in a botched robbery attempt. She died instantly from a shot to the head, he was shot in the neck and is hospitalized. Today they're saying the bullet traveled and lodged in his brain and he's showing no brain activity.

*******************************************************

Can you stand how absolutely sad this story is? So sad, so disgusting, so scary. It's a fucking nightmare. I just feel for their stunned families.

Of course once I read this story I lost myself in the Googled world of other horrific things that have happened to tourists in the Caribbean. This is the crap that sits in my head all day.

It's on.

Maine? Wicked fun. I'll toss up some pics tomorrow, and a recappy, but for the moment I have to publicly acknowledge that it's time for a serious diet/exercise plan.

I'm not fat, but I'm not toned either. I'm 34 (what gave it away?), and things ain't gonna bounce back just because I Tae Bo'd for a week. All the fried eats I enjoyed while waitressing on the island are still with me - and I'm ten pounds from where I should be (and fifteen from where I want to be). In the spirit of competition I want to see if I can get there by October.

So.

It's on.

A true effort.

Although, I still feel like fooling myself into thinking I don't have to give up beer. So I will continue to do that.

We

are headed up to Maine for the weekend, to hang with our St. Thomas buds...aptly called The Mainers. Three dudes who teach in St. T during the school year, and lifeguard/bartend in ME all summer. They're all around 26 - and it's safe to say they're enjoying themselves.

On tap for the weekend: Beach. Beers. Baseball (GO SOX). Bars.

Latah.

Wind = Windy?

I just realized I've been misusing a word. I think.

Okay, so, you wind a clock. Once you wind it, it's wound, right? Cool. Now, using the same word, in a different form, could you say the roads are windy, as in curvy? Or do you automatically think those roads are victim to a constant, big breeze?

I thought windy, as in curvy, was a word, but I've just been informed by the Man that it's either wind, or winding. Really. So I guess it's the roads are curvy.

I had a few beers at lunch.

And now the Man won't stop singing The Long and Winding/Windy Road...

He's hysterical.

Mmmm, Beer.

~

It's not just any ol' Beer Bag people,




It's a Super Beer Bag -



If that didn't just make your day, then I don't know what will.

Raise Your Hand

If you think it's funny to put the ice tray back in the freezer with only 1 or 2 cubes left in it - just to hear the person that you live with pull it out and sigh annoyingly as he pops the remaining cube out and slaps the empty tray on the counter before reaching for another tray.

Keep your hand up if you and your significant other then stubbornly leave the empty tray on the counter for a day or two, refusing to fill it...

...until someone relents and just does it already. That person is usually me. Is that person you?

Saturday

On insomnia: I'm happy to say I've had 2 rested nights in a row - and that's not to say I have a chronic problem - but for the past two nights I've turned the computer off by 8, and I think it's helped a little. I aim to have the 'puter off by 7pm, and put down a glass a wine soon after - which I think will also help with the sleeping - if, and only if, I don't follow that one glass with two more...as is easy to do.

On movies: We've seen Hancock, Wanted and The Hulk so far this summer - all the movies were entertaining, but top honors goes to the Hulk, followed by Wanted. Hulk was pure adrenaline - the effects were killer. I wasn't sure if I would love Wanted, but I did, it was cool and original - and yes, some effects were hard to swallow, but the movie was still way cool. Hancock...let's see, who doesn't love Will Smith right? The first half was fun, the second half had a different feel - and they kind of lost their rythm, but as a whole it was entertaining. Tonight we see the Dark Knight - and I'm really looking forward to it.

On working out: We bought some Billy Blank Tae Bo DVD's. I like working out to a tape as the music is usually pretty cool, and it's motivating to follow along. These tapes seem pretty killer, so if you're looking for a cool new way to work out (in under an hour) I say give these a go. We found them at Target for $29, you get 5 dvds and a weighted bar.

On cheese: I love it, and eat way too much of it. In the fridge right now is a bar of extra sharp cheddar, some lovely soft goat cheese, and two kinds of small round nibble-cheeses. It's healthy, right? All the calcium? Just nod your head.

We have a movie time of 6pm tonight, which means we're leaving the house at 5, which means I aim to be in the shower around 4-4:15, which means I have to finish working out right before then, which means I need to get going on the dishes and other random stuff I have set aside for today.

Couch surfer

Happy morning!

It's 7AM, and I just spent another restless night on the couch, watching TV and dozing. No, the Man and I aren't fighting - I'm dealing with some new insomnia issue. Fun. I need to work on ways to settle the mind before bedtime. The first thing? I need to lay off the freakin' computer. Once it's dinnertime I'm putting the internet away for the night. The second thing? Wine, but we'll see how the computer thing works first.

At the moment I'm up early with my morning drink and eating routine - mug of coffee, small glass of OJ and a Kashi bar. After I ingest all of this I need to: empty the dishwasher, fill it back up, clean and fill the birds food dishes and deliver breakfast to them, empty the dryer and fold those clothes, take a quick shower, paint my toenails, pack a small bag-for-the-day, grab my camera and get into the car. My friend/husband/two toddler daughters are on the Cape this week, and I'm buzzing out to spend the day with them. They're all the way at the Cape's tip, a couple hour's drive...but with the top down on my Cooper and Poison blasting from the radio I'm sure it will fly by!

The Mini is the only car we've been driving this summer, it gets fantastic gas mileage. Our other car? Not so much. It's an FJ Cruiser, which we love, but at 12 miles/gallon we're going to let it collect dust. Stupid gas.

By the time I get back tonight I hope to be exhausted from the driving, and I'm looking forward to some regular sleep. Got that sleepy-gods?

Heading South, one at a time

It's no secret that boobs rarely hang the same, and one is usually higher/lower than the other, but I think one of mine just shifted.

Depending on my weight I'm either a really big A, or a decent B. Which is fine, I've never had a problem being small on top - I go braless when I feel like it, and guys always look me in the eye snort.

However, as I washed my hands in the bathroom this morning I looked in the mirror and noticed the right one seems a bit lower than usual. P'raps I'll take a cue from 'Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret' and do some I must I must I must increase my Bust swings with my arms. Or, in this case, just the right arm.

Of course I'll keep you updated.

That's just good TV

We watched the Miss Universe pageant last night, and watched Miss USA fall on her ass, again, for the second year in a row. Conspiracy? Nah. Slippy shoes, and a too-long dress. She was composed though, and you have to laugh. She was gorgeous too, I wonder if she lost her shot at top 5 because of the fall?

On another note I learned that the Man has a knack for guessing the judge's ratings, during the bathing suit bit he guessed correctly who would receive 8's and who wasn't worth an 8. I, at 5' 3", sat there and marveled at the legs on these chicks. And decided to start working out more consistently.

Miss Venezuela won, by the by, after completely confusing us with her answer in the Q&A part.

Her question: What's the difference between men and women? (I don't know if that was the exact wording, but that's a stacked question if I ever heard one)

Her answer: "Men think that the fastest way to go to a point is to go straight. Women know that the faster way to go to a point is to go to the curves."

Um, what? The fuck?? Does that mean???

On a third note - I'm drinking strawberry Fruit 2O, and it tastes just like Dimetapp. Ick.

Wee ones.

Babies.

All over the place.

Nicole Kidman and Keith had a baby girl. Hottie McConaughey and what's-her-name-who-cares-she's-banging-hottie had a boy. Britney's sister popped one out. Moody Jessica Alba dropped. The world is holding it's breath for Brad and Angelina's twins, snore.

Finally, Pregnant Man gives birth.

On that last one - am I the only person who's less than 'amazed' at this story? We have a chick who got rid of her breastesess, but kept the main plumbing. He/she testosteroned up, grew some facial fuzz, and no doubt got some manly-man in his/her voice. There's no mention of an added penis, it only states he/she underwent a gender-change. The wife of five years had a hysterectomy so Thomas, our new dad/mom, was inseminated to carry their child. Ta da! The world's first Pregnant Man.

The media has enjoyed the circus-freakshowness about it all, when really, it's just nature taking it's course, albeit it with man-cut jeans and a mustache. Right?

I know, I'm a brat.

Obsessed

So, on any given day I can surf the internet, gather up random articles and newsy-bits, and get on with my life. Other days? Not so much. God forbid some juicy tidbit comes along that jumps into my brain and forces me to suck the life out of it by Googling every little 'ting about it.

Take the Scott Peterson case, for example. I was on top of that from the day an article popped up on CNN.com. It said something like Pregnant California woman remains missing, search parties out in force. Okay, interesting. Let's take a peek. Let's call mom and see if she heard about it. Let's talk on the phone about it and completely immerse ourselves in everything Modesto, CA for the next months while her husband becomes creepier and creepier and women across the nation pray for someone to take him down. Let's pour over every article, every opinion, every everything to see if we can crack the case ourselves. We didn't, by the way. Apparently no one every will, unless Scott confesses or the dog learns to speak.

I got immersed in another case sometime last year, and it's one of those stories that I Google every now and then to see what's what. It's the case about Schapelle Corby. Heard of her?

Here's the skinny:

In Oct 2004 Schapelle, a 27yr old from Australia, and assorted family members/friends decided to go to Bali for a two week vacation. She brought along her boogie board, and at the Queensland airport she had to check it as it was oversized. They flew from Queensland to Sydney, had a layover, then completed their trip to Bali. There the party was stopped by customs and asked who owned the boogie board. Schapelle said it was hers and lifted it to a table to be searched as other passengers were also having luggage searched, post 9/11 activity.

During the search they found almost 10lbs of pot, a pillow-sized bag, sitting on top of her board. Schapelle was shocked and immediately denied it was hers. Customs took her away, tried to make her sign a confession, while her family/friends were standing around helpless. They put her in jail for 7 months while they prepared a trial. The laws in Bali regarding drug smuggling are fierce, it's basically the death sentence or life in prison. The law enforcement stated that she was smuggling it into Bali. She stated that she would be foolish to smuggle drugs in, nevermind that large amount, through TWO airports, in an unlocked bag that would be out of her possession for the entire trip. She stated she was a victim of a poorly-planned drug smuggle between baggage handlers - and there was some evidence of a drug-ring at the airports.

Scary ass thought right? The baggage handlers had little security as they came and went from work, and could be carrying huge packages to and from their cars, unknown to anyone. It's completely plausible. Most Australians believed in her innocence based on this idea.

But she wasn't on trial in Australia. Here's what didn't happen during the investigation in Indonesia:

- no fingerprints were taken from the bag of pot, in fact so many people touched it, took some, handled it in the first hour that any forensic evidence was disrupted.

- her bag wasn't weighed in the Australian airport, so no way to determine any change in weight.

- the pot wasn't tested to determine it's origin, or to see who had handled it.

- there were no available airport security camera tapes to view - they were either wiped, or never requested.

Schapelle was lucky, she escaped the death sentence, and the life in prison - but she was sentenced to 20 years. TWENTY! They've appealed twice, and been turned down. She's going to rot until she reaches her forties.

Intriguing story, right? I believe she's innocent, mostly because A) I think she would be foolish to attempt smuggling in that large amount of pot to a country who punishes such actions with the dealth penalty, B) I like to believe the baggage handlers could get away with it, and that thought is frightening, leading to further sympathy from me to her, C) She willingly stepped up to claim the bag and agreed to open it for security, clearly she didn't know the pot was in there.

However, every story has two sides...so here's some more tidbits.

Some people have brought up her brother James as a possible suspect. He was on the trip with her, was in possession of the boogie board bag, and this past year was sentenced to four years in prison on a drug bust. Could he have put it in there? Sure. Could a brother really stand by and watch his sister almost get the death penalty because of his actions? I don't know. Stranger things have happened I guess.

There's also rumors that float around regarding her family, and recreational pot use, a neighbor who was busted for growing it, etc. However, dig deep enough into anyone's life and you're bound to find something negative.

So there you go. Interested enough to research more? Here's the Wikipedia site, and her official site. Both are interesting reads, and if you're bored at work you can kill an easy hour or more if you choose to bury yourself in it. HBO is running a new documentary on the case, called Ganja Queen. It was interesting to finally see and hear her after looking at so many still pictures.

Let me know what you think about it. And by all means, if you're buried in something as addictive feel free to share!

Things you didn't want to know, but I'm telling you anyways.

I had a dream the other night, and it went a little something like this.

There was a group of us hanging around; and by us I mean myself, the Man, and some random friends of ours. At one point we were all in some big ballroom...then it switched to the beach, at night, with a bonfire.

Breast implants seemed to be the centerpoint of the gathering, and I decided to get some. In this dream the process seemed pretty simple, with little recovery time. So why not, right? It also wasn't very expensive. Plus, to add to the simplicity, the room where the surgeries were taking place was more like a floor covered by a big tent, with nice cots set up. It was on the beach, and if you weren't getting your boobs done you could hang out in beach chairs on the sand, with cocktails. Quite a party, I know.

The Man and I were deciding between a C cup or D cup. Thinking that a D cup would be too drastic a change from my current size (small B) I decided on the C cup and proceeded to a cot to wait for the Dr. The person performing the surgeries turned out to be Kevin, a guy who bartended at the first place I waitressed on St. Thomas. Why not, right? He brought out some pillowy bags to show me the difference between C and D, and I stuck with the C (after an approved nod from the Man, who could see me from his beach chair). Kevin told me to lay down and he'd be right back with my implants.

Here's where it gets weird. When he came back the bags he was holding were filled with some squishy greenish liquid.

I asked him, "Is that silicone? Or saline?"

"No", he said, "it's liquid aluminum."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, "is that safe?"

He didn't really have an answer for that, and I got off the cot to go talk to the Man.

"Honey, the implants are filled with liquid aluminum, do you think that's safe?"

"Um," he said, sipping his drink, "I don't know."

"Well, I don't want to risk them popping inside of me and dying as a result."

He agreed, "You're probably right, don't bother getting them."

I went back to Kevin and told him I was going to pass. He showed me how strong the packs were and told me a puncture was probably not going to happen - but I was not persuaded, and passed on the implants.

And then I woke up.

Survey.

Copying this from BJB's site. What else is there to do on a Sunday night at 7:06pm whilst waiting for the Sox/Yankees game to begin?

**************************************************

What were you doing ten years ago?

1. Living in Cambridge, MA, moved there the previous Nov. with my then-roomie K (from Pittsburgh)

2. Working as a temp in some office on Tremont St., also some part-time at Dress Barn

3. Living through the emotional end of my long-distance relationship with this guy I dated in Pittsburgh who had moved to Atlanta the same time I moved to Boston

4. Turning 24. Holy shit. I knew NOTHING then!

5. Finding my way through Boston as someone with a random job and her roomate as her only real friend

6. Wondering what would happen when I finally realized then-roomie was not loving Boston and was planning to leave that summer (don't worry, it all worked out)

What are 6 things on my to-do list for today? Today's gone, so for tomorrow I plan:

1. Laundry

2. Workout

3. Tidy the house

4. Check my bills

5. Blog

6. Get the guest room ready (mom's coming Tues afternoon)

Snacks I enjoy?

1. Chips (that includes pretty much everything in the chip aisle...you know, Cheetos, Pringles, Doritos, Tostitos (the lime flavored ones), Andy Capps (SO GOOD)

2. Cream cheese on triscuits (it's wicked good)

3. Pepperoni & cheese on crackers

4. More chips

5. Bubblegum jellybeans (rarely, no sweet tooth)

6. Dip (to go with the chips previously mentioned)

Things I would do if I were a billionaire?

1. Donate to charity (karma, dude)

2. Invest in real estate around the world

3. Go from port to port in my fancy yacht and shop up a storm. In the same category I would have the following people employed on the yacht - massage therapist, manicurist, hair/make-up doer.

4. Take care of college costs for all my bud's kids

5. Set my family up....houses, cars etc.

6. Buy some massive pimped-out winnebago, road-warrior, tour-bus thing and follow the Red Sox for one season. I've mentioned this to the Man before, during our 'When we win the Lottery' convos, and while he's not entirely on board I think it would be a killer time. So much America to be seen during all of those road games! In the same category we would, of course, immediately have box seats to all Patriot games, home and away. Limos included.

Places I have lived?

Grew up in CT. Went to school in Pittsburgh, PA. Moved to MA and in the span of 10 years lived in Cambridge, Somerville, Boston (North End), Woburn and the South Shore. St. Thomas is now home, as we're there 8-9 months out of the year.

How did you name your blog?

Um, I just turned 34. And I have thoughts. No big mystery there.

Who am I tagging?

Anyone within arm's reach.

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It's now 7:32. Once I finish my 'rita I'm on kitchen duty, and then it's baseball time.

GO SOX!

What is up, people!

So, you know, Happy Fourth y'all. Woo!

I'm home, watching the Boston nonsense...all sorts of music, people and one of the best fireworks displays you'll ever see. I've made the trip into town to see the celebration roughly three times, and definitely recommend to any who might be thinking about it. At the moment they're playing the 1812 - and as a person who grew up listening to classical, I have to say I love this piece.

At the moment I'm on the computer (no shit, really?!), watching the orchestra on the tube while sucking down a 'rita. Yum :) We're in Day Three of hernia surgery recovery, and while I'm pleased to announce the Man feels better today, he's still a ways off from top form. You really don't realize how often you use the muscles in your stomach until someone digs in there with a knife, and then stitches you up. And then you realize. Oh sure, the obvious things...like situps and excercising are out...but we're talking the little things, like clearing your throat. And sitting up. And laughing.

And trying to yell out your wife's name when she's ignorantly sitting downstairs even though you need assistance and although you've texted her as was the plan for help-notification she still hasn't answered and finally you have to hobble to the top of the stairs and loudly whisper her name until she finally hears you and sheepishly admits oh, my phone was turned all the way down and I didn't realize...

Oops. My bad.

So, I hoe you all have enjoyed your July 4 celebrations, whether you went out in big fashion, or hung out small time. Tomorrow I'll have to get this here blog pimped out a little, and then travel out to cyberspace to let you all know I've returned, as most of you (namely Triple B and Jersey Jen) knew I would.

Cheers! (...as BH would say...)

Wimbledon

I'm a fan of tennis, and I've always watched Wimbledon. I grew up watching it with mom, and we've been a couple of times - even making it to Centre Court once. You have to line up pretty early for those tickets!

I've been watching it this week, and was hoping to NOT have a William's sister final...but we do. So I guess now I'll root for Venus to finally beat her sister (who's beaten her pretty each time they've faced off). It's still great tennis.

Wow, this is a lame post. I'm going to sign off and finish watching The Search for Elle Woods. Gotta love reality TV.

Surgery

My husband (you remember him as the Man) had surgery this morning, for umbilical hernia. He felt something was bothering him in his stomach earlier this year; as he put it 'something's IN there...'. I watched him poke his belly in an inquiring manner for a month or two with his brow all furrowed up as he tried to figure out what it could be. We scoured the internet to see what it could be, he made some calls to his Dr., and we figured out it had to be a hernia. A visit to the doc in St. Thomas confirmed it. That was March.

Now, we love St. Thomas and all, but for a surgical procedure? Not so much. Nothing against their fine staff of medical professionals, but we've always said if we needed to go under the knife it would be on the mainland. We were headed back to Boston in June for a few months, so he scheduled the surgery for then. Which meant for the time between March and today he had to be careful not to irritate it - no heavy lifting, no working out...etc. No big deal there *grin*

Just kidding dear!

Actually, it was amusing...we would go grocery shopping at the price club and come out rolling a carriage FULL of bulk items - cases of beer, a crate of frozen meats, bottles of booze, all the important stuff. He would stand with the carriage while I muscled everything into the truck as people walked by no doubt thinking 'what an ass!' as they watched him do nothing. It didn't bother me, I look at errands like that as calorie-burning, otherwise they would be much more annoying.

The surgery went smoothly, and we're now home hanging out in bed as he tries not to do anything to affect his stomach (which is affected by pretty much every movement a person makes). I'll tell you though, I was nervous with the surgery...not so much the procedure, but the drugs to make you go under (I can't spell anesthesi...whatever). I kept imagining too much of the drugs in his system and some nurse running up to tell me that my husband wasn't coming out of it and now he's comatose. Paranoid? Maybe. Could I have written this yesterday therefore potentially jinxing the whole operation and in my mind actually bringing on a medical error? HELL no.

In fact, one of the pre-op nurses, as she left him for the last time this morning, said 'The Dr. should be over soon, see you on the other side!' and I held my breath thinking for sure she had disrupted the Gods and now something would go wrong.

I really need to stop being so manic.

Tuesday

I've been 34 for 4 days, and it's suspiciously just like being 33. Who knew?

:)

Anyways...if anyone's coming by who used to visit the old place - ya know, that 3 Parrots place...well, I've decided to reopen here. Just because. I'm still enjoying blogging at St Thomas Blog (.com), but I needed a place to get the random nonsense thoughts out of my head - and here we are.

Nonsense for today has to do with Wimbledon, and namely those William's sisters. I watched some of Serena's match today, and I know most players grunt when they hit the ball...but Serena takes it to an entirely new level. She was SCREAMING when she hit it, and roaring when she won a point. She won her match- the other girl was intimidated and most likely SO annoyed with it her game just fell away. I'm praying that one of the sisters falls in the semis, otherwise it's a William's sister final, and WHO GIVES A CRAP.

Anyways, it's 5pm and time for me to do my Tae Bo tape. Gots to get my work out on :)