Doctor's Visit!

So awhile back I had a rash that resembled the dreaded mark of a deer tick. By the time I had it checked out, it was already gone. The doctor agreed that the picture I had taken didn't look too lovely, and ordered me a Lyme's test. The test came back negative and I didn't think much about it. Pretty soon after, my niece was diagnosed with Lyme's and my mom kept urging to me get retested,especially considering my increase in naps and the fact that Lyme's isn't often detected for weeks.

Fast forward to me finally going back to the doctor's today. You know what the problem with me at the doctor's is? It doesn't matter if I have a serious infection or am going for my physical and am in top notch form; I always just kind of babble in a light-hearted way, and by babble I mean BABBLE. My mom is always saying I need to act more sick when sick or else no one will believe I am sick. Not that I feel too bad today, honestly (though my lunch did go right through me). Anyway, the babbling was in full effect today times infinite. As soon as the doctor apologized for being late, to which I replied, "oh isn't that what you guys do? It'd be weird if you weren't," I told the doctor about the bar I planned to get married in once I find a husband and about how my cat is overweight and how my niece and I had rolled down the same hill together so perhaps it is good I get retested even though it is probably nothing but then again who knows and have you had the breakfast sandwich at Ellie's Bakery? They have the best tomato jam situation.

Oh, and backtrack. When the doctor walked in

As I waited to go in for my blood test, a poor, hot mess of a woman wearing a Kid Rock shirt came and sat next to me in the waiting room. She started chatting. She looked terrible, meant in the nicest way possible. I told her I am sorry she didn't feel well. She replied something along the lines of "it's because of my ex, my stupid ex." And then proceeded to tell me how her ex cheated on her and she bought backstage tickets to Nickleback and they didn't go because of the cheating and yadayadayada. I wished her well and said she still should have gone to the concert (though, I think I'd have to be paid to go see them live).

Really liked the blood test administer lady. I said to her, "It's too bad about that woman and her ex. Exes, I tell ya." She rolled her eyes and said she heard all about that when the woman was in with her a minute before. I then proceeded to apologize to blood test administer lady because I cannot look at her while talking because she is too close to my arm and I may pass out. I then talked about my blue shampoo. So, my hairdresser recommended I use a blue or purple shampoo because I had my hair highlighted and it is supposed to decrease the brassy after-effects. The first time I used the shampoo, I was horrified when I looked down on my chest and saw blue sputtering everywhere; I was convinced I had developed 76 ungodly veins because I had worked out twice that day, and well, you know, that's never a good idea. Then I realized a few moments later it was just my shampoo and I felt better. Then the blood test administer lady told me that I am improving at blood test and I told her I think she is great and then I came home, and that is that.

Funeral Procession/Lunch/The Big Sick

I have to cross two lanes to get to my exit. There was a lot of traffic today so I was quite pleased with myself when I was able to get into the necessary lane. That was, of course, before I realized that I had cut into a funeral procession. I tried to shrink down in my seat but my intrusion was evidently apparent as a black long-sleeved arm appeared out of the window ahead of me, and proceeded to give me the longest middle finger ever.

Last week my friend and I ate lunch en plein air as one should in the summer. It wasn't until we were sitting outside that I realized that the place I worked the previous summer was directly across the street. Background information: I worked teaching English to middle school aged inner-city youth. The program was thrown together last minute. It was relatively chaotic. At one point, I kicked a kid out of the class for being horribly ignorant to which he replied that I was "racist" which made no sense to me because hello, I would have kicked the entire class out of that was the case. It was this experience that I also learned that "anonymous" surveys are not at all anonymous. When asked to fill out the "anonymous" survey at the end of the summer program, I filled out quite honestly. One question was: "Do you think you will work here again" to which I replied "definitely not". Well flash forward to this summer, and shocker, I didn't hear from the coordinator. I did, however, have him recognize my squeaky voice chatting away while I ate my lunch across from my former work site. He asked if I was working this summer; "Nope, well I didn't hear from you." He responded with, "Well did you reach out to us?" Me: "Nope, definitely not. Nice outfit." End scene.

Except the scene kept running just with other characters. For instance, this woman plops down a dvd in the bus stop bench in front of our table. A couple of minutes later, she got on the bus, forgetting her dvd. Enter a man in a hat who takes the dvd. My friend and I were like, what is up with this dvd. Ten minutes pass and the woman is back asking if we saw anyone take the dvd. Next thing you know, she is borrowing my phone. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, figures less than a month ago my phone was swallowed in mud, then I got it replaced, then cracked the screen, then got that replaced, and now it is in her hands. Oh well, I can probably out run her if worse comes to worse. And by probably, I mean definitely, well, except if my Larry Bird knee started acting a-fool.

Saw that movie "The Big Sick" with my friend tonight. We figured it would give us some hope in regards to the love department. Final verdict: not so much. While I am quite glad (read: mildly jealous) that it worked out for the couple in the film (which is based on a real story), the only chunk of wisdom that we parted with is the following: in order for a man to realize he is in love with you/miss you, you need to be in a coma. So, unless somehow I end up in a coma, it it is not looking so good for me (ha?).

Chiropractor and Pretty Little Liars!

The left side of my body started hurting around two years ago. This summer, I decided, enough is enough! I started my quest for equal body sides by googling "left side doctors". Well, somehow, nothing came up. I then decided, hey, chiropractor, what what. So, I did some research and discovered a chiropractor practice just minutes from my apartment. Of course, after two years of waiting, I decided my left side needed to be fixed IMMEDIATELY. My hurried nature resulted in me being too impatient on a Sunday to wait for a Monday to call the docs, and online booking an appointment. This would have made sense, until I later realized that I accidentally booked an appointment in California with a chiropractor that has a similar name to the one in Rhode Island. My health insurance is okay, but I don't think it would cover such costs. Anyway, my first trip to my local chiropractor coincided with my newest unhealthy habit: a Pretty Little Liars obsession. Okay if I was sixteen and still on my *NSYNC and Buffy the Vampire Slayer kick, this would be appropriate, but I am literally 32 so....Anway....A dear friend came and visited me in the beginning of July and in between riding scooter-coupes around and taking relaxing ferry rides, she introduced me to the show. All of a sudden, I did my first ever "binge watching" of a show. Well, that's a lie, I did binge watch every episode of Impractical Jokers (that's a whole other story). Pretty Little Liars sort of took over my life for a minute or so. I even started to get momentarily paranoid about life. For instance, in the story, one of the characters, Emily, went to get a massage and when her message therapist said she would be right back, "A" (think: stalker) ended up sneaking in and giving her a massage. Fast forward to me at the chiropractor for the first time and the chiro-man is like, "I'll be right back". I have no idea where he goes, but rest assured I looked up multiple times when he came back in and told me to "breathe in, breathe out"to make sure that he had not been replaced with an "A" character of my own. In that same episode of PLL, "A" had put steroids in Emily's pain ointment unbeknownst to her. You bet your fanny I was a little suspicious when my doctor handed me some Arnica gel to put on my left side. In the last two weeks, I have made the switch from the chiro-man who says he will be right back, to his associate. It has been a good change, but I am rather a nervous wreck while waiting to go in for my appointment, afraid of when chiro-man catches me cheating on him. The first time it happened, he came over to me and asked if I was ready for our appointment together. I hung my head in shame. I said I had already seen his associate today, I was so sorry. I went again this morning, very nervous again. As soon as he comes into the lobby, I loudly blurt "I'm cheating on you again! I'm sorry." then quickly avert my eyes. The guilt is too much. Meanwhile, chiro-lady has been very cool. She senses that I am a nervous person (shocker) and gives me little tips on breathing. Breathing is so difficult! Aaaand tomorrow I am going back to see chiro-man and chiro-lady's other associate to discuss nutrition. Wish me luck with that guilt!

Clean Sheets

I think I need a personal assistant. That, or I need to figure out how to get out of group texts on my phone. Or, no, basically I need a personal assistant. I cannot handle making plans with people.  I really never know what I am in the mood to do until the minute it is happening, for the most part. This has been a problem since I was old enough to make plans, throw group texts in the picture and I am like "how about I just stay in my pajamas and never leave my apartment instead?!" One of the group texts went on from 8:23 am to 11am just trying to figure out the day. I was beside myself.  There were so many group texts going on yesterday that yoga could not come fast enough.  The only thing I wanted was to do yoga and have clean sheets....

Okay, so sheets.

I like clean sheets. I change them once a week. I have laundry downstairs in my apartment but the other two tenants bought the machines and I am never exactly sure about using them so I usually do it at my parents' house when I visit.  Well, I was getting desperate on the sheet situation.  I love that freshly laundered scent! I really do! So, around mid-week I got out my lavender scented Lysol can and sprayed my sheets, figured it'd hold me over.  Despite the Lysol situation, I was still unsettled after another night.  So, I dropped them off at the laundromat to get cleaned as I went about my day.  The man asked how I was today. I mumbled, "Lysoled sheets, group texts, can't deal!" He told me he would try to help.

I left feeling better about life. I went to yoga.  My teacher asked how I was.  I naturally rambled more about sheets and group texts but talked about sheets being cleaned so maybe life is okay. Yoga helped.

I ate a lunch. I went for a walk. I did some work. I did some putzing.  I picked up my laundry. I did more putzing. I showered. I was all ready to make my bed with my clean sheets.  I went through my laundry bag. Where are my sheets?! WHERE ARE MY SHEETS?! Oh no! I looked on my messy bed....I never packed up my sheets to go to the laundromat.  I had taken them haphazardly off my bed and just left them in a crumpled pile.  I was not pleased.  I looked for more sheets. Yellow sheets, I have yellow sheets! Where are my yellow sheets? Oh, I can't find my yellow sheets! Okay, well flannel sheets. I have flannel sheets. This is not ideal for it was a 90 degree day and still rather steamy but hey when the going gets tough....I looked everywhere. I found my flannel pillowcases in a plastic bedding bag. Cheddar (cat) gets all up in the bag. Chaos ensues.  I have no sheets and my cat is suffocating himself in a plastic bag. I remove said cat. Thankfully, my cousin lives down the street and has an extra set I can borrow. I get to her house just as she's texting me:"Soooo the sheets have been in my closet....so they smell kind of funky." Of course they do. They did smell kind of funky but at it least it was a new funky.  Anyway, that guy at the laundromat really must have thought I had a few screws loose since I told him I needed my Lysoled sheets cleaned and I didn't actually include any sheets with my order.

In other news, Amazon Prime Deals Day was Wednesday.  I'm so excited that my toilet paper came in!!
 

Be One With the Water

I kid-sat my five-year old nice Amelia the other day. Miss A is basically the best, and I'm not just saying that because she is like a mini-me. There are many reasons why she's the bee's knees including: she takes break dancing lessons, can rap Biz Markie, loves cats, and wants to be a graffiti artist when she grows up. So, her and I were in my parents' hot tub chillen when she said she was going to try to dip her head under the water to conquer fear. Amelia said, and I quote, "I need to take a deep breath and become one with the water." She then proceeded to close her eyes and channel some chi. When she didn't make it quite under I asked her if she had been one with the water. Her response: "No, I was seaweed. I'm going to try to be one with the water again now." She also explained that Mylo angel (her recently deceased dog) was looking over her and wouldn't let her drown. Kids can be sweet.

Anyway.

I have pleasantly surprised myself by sleeping a couple of nights this week. There have also been some dreams involved.

Dream 1
I am running late to work and arrive during an armed intruder drill so everyone is outside, including David Spade. David Spade was in subbing for a teacher and I looked at him and was full of legit contempt. David Spade wore a purple velour tracksuit. Also, it was snowing outside and that made me really angry.

Dream 2
I decided I needed a new Celtics shirt and went to the Prudential Center in Boston. I kept being drawn to green velvet jackets. This was basically the entirety of my dream, me searching for, finding, and falling in love with a green velvet jacket.

Dream 3
I tell someone to "wipe that face off their head." That was literally the entire dream. I woke and looked in the mirror and there was a dent in my face from sleeping.

Well, that is it for now. I actually have quite a lot to blog about regarding visiting a retirement community in Florida aka living the dream. I'll need an entire afternoon for that one. God speed, people!

Well, it's Saturday!

I just found out that three of my co-workers are pregnant. My response: "Wow, congratulations! Jesus the biggest news I have is that my cat has his own instagram.  Yeah, I went to work the other day and came home and Cheddarcatrocks was all setup on insta." And...I'm serious. Follow the orange fuzzball!

Today I took my Gma shopping to her mecca, Macy's.  She made me go INTO the dressing room WITH HER. Sure, this is my spring break, but I didn't really want to see any topless ladies! During the excursion, This Is Tonight by Amber and a Mandy Moore song came on. Flashback much.

Anyway, speaking of vacation, Tuesday I'm off to the Villages, a retirement hotspot in Florida. I'm pretty stoked that I'll get to go out dancing and still be in bed at 10pm. I'm seriously looking into opening a club that runs business between 4pm and 10pm, because there are little options for those who enjoy getting low as much as they enjoy getting zzzs.

The other day a man wearing a huge Native American head dress biked by me.  It was a lovely piece, but it was so large I was legit worried he'd topple over. Sending positive vibes to that man.

The end.

Peaches and Cowflaps!

As I sit here, snow pounding outside, on ya know, April 4th, I think: life cannot be all peaches, but that doesn't mean we can't eat any peaches! I am going to continue to eat peaches, damn it! Peachy keen!

Any of you who have read my blog before or who know me personally, probably have inferred that my life can be pretty ridiculous.  I mean; accused of grand larceny, cab drivers playing the flute WHILE driving me, cats getting buried and then dug up--none of this is exactly normal. Yet, usually I am (appear anyway) happy.  I figure, it's just life.  Though, honestly, sometimes behind closed doors I would cry a lot and not want to leave my bed.  Hey, it happens.

My life started going semi-smooth this past fall.  I upped my yoga game,  I cut-down on the thinking, I read the super life-changing book "You are a Badass" by Jen Sincero.  I made the best vision board featuring the dapper and handsome James Marsden.  I started going from semi-faking it to totally making it.  By January 2016 life was at an all time smooth, non-chunky PB style.  I was absolutely killing it! I did a 30 day yoga challenge at Providence Power Yoga which basically sealed the deal on my smooth criminal status.  I got good at putting myself first; saying no I couldn't possibly do this or that, I've got yoga, yo! I also felt super chill and emotionally non-hot-mess and ya know, pretty svelte too.  February rolled in and I was like WHAT WHAAAAAAT KILLING IT!

Then, March hit.  It has always been my least favorite month.  It makes me question why I live in New England (more than usual).  I always get sick in March.  Some kind of cowflap always hits the fan.  Every. Single. March.  This March at least started off pretty bearable; I secured a preschool teacher position for next year, the weather was not too icky, I was not sick, I was/am talking to a nice boy.  Then ya know, end of March comes.  The weather turns! I'm sick! I'm pounding an ungodly amount of chocolate every day! Cowflaps hitting fans!!!!! And now it is April and it is snowing.  Yet, somehow I am still feeling pretty fine.  In the past, the ick of it all; weather, cowflaps, sickness, od-ing on chocolate=aaah, life???? But now, I have finally come to the point where I have learned to dust that snow off my car, buy some yellow flowers to mask the rancid cowflaps, pop a lozenge, throw my hands up, and say, "the heck with it!" Life is too great to let some flaps of cows get in the way.  Even when it is less than peachy, I will still find me some peaches!