Up Down In Out Anyway the Wind Blows

Yesterday I got stuck in an elevator.

Not the stuck where you don't go anywhere but the scary gut dropping kind where the lights go out and the floof drops. Then the emergency light comes on and all I could think of was why didn't I go to the bathroom? After waiting for 15 minutes for the elevator guy to come bail me I've never been so happy to get out of such a tiny space.

This is as far as I got with that story.

This week is the start of my birthday week! There is nothing better than having a birthday. When I turned 25 (the annus horriblus year) it was one of the worst years of my life. I was lost dear friends. I was broke, scooping ice cream and had moved in with my parents. I gained 20 pounds and was so depressed thinking that this was all my life was going to be me on the couch with the cat watching Oprah reruns.

So on the eve of of my 26th birthday I lit a candle, tore out of my journal all the sheet of my "life goals" and burned them. Watching the pages burn I felt such a freedom. Like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. After burning the old list I started a new one with the stupid impratical wishes I had always wanted to do and had written down but ignored. Compared to the serious 5 year plan goals they were absolutley crazy. For example 1. Run a marathon. 2. Visit all friends and family who live out of state. 3. Read more challenging books and to stop wasting my time trying to read ones I don't care for. 4. to be a postive person. 5. If its raining go out and stomp in a few puddles. 6. Find something of joy in each day.

On the eve of my 27th birthday its nice to say that I have done all of these. Some more than once! So I say to those serious goals good riddance. Now its time to focus on the last goal of my 20s. Three guesses on what it is and the other two don't count!

I Hadn't Anyone Till You

It always begins with either a phone call or text on those truly "wonderful" (see terrible/awful/horrible/no good/ oh my gosh when is it going to end) kind of days. Somebody has something that they absolutley want to tell you. But instead of directly telling you they want you to fish it out of them.

For example:

Txter: Sup?

Me: Sup.

Txter: So what you doing?

Me: Nothing (I'm sitting on my couch avoiding the world stuffing my face with Hagaan Daz that's what I'm doing)

Txter: Guess what?

Me: what? (Is this one of those middle school phone conversations?)

Txter: No really guess!

Me: okay I'll bite you got ran over by a big truck with the name mack on it? Or you got confused when they were giving you a tatoo and now you have a big ol' swingline imprinted on your forehead?

Txter: No. I'm Engaged!

Me: Yay? About damn time? Congrats?

End of example

I'm absoultey terrible in these situations. Because through the joys of texting I can never tell if this is I made a big mistake and now we are getting married please help me get out of it or, I no longer have to check the single box on my taxes, I get a bigger refund, and now get to delight in your singleness! Kind of engaement.

It's not that I'm bitter its so hard to find somebody nowdays. Those Glee kids keep on singing about how hard it is so I guess I gotta believe them. But why does it always have to be on those hard days?

Hello

Today I had a dance party at work.

I may have been the only one there.

But it was fun anyway.

Cause sometimes when you are bored enough you find the inspirational piano playing the same three hymns plus the whole sappy movie catalog. (i.e Somewhere in Time, Total Eclipse of the Heart, My Heart will Go on Etc.) it was so bad today that I wanted to hurl a box of Kleenex from the fourth flour balcony and a pint of Hagan Daaz and yell down to this lovely pianist GET OVER IT!

So there I was tilting my head (I may have been trying to get water out of my ears) like those fools in night at the roxburry when the sweet volunteer lady who often works next to my desk to ask very sweetly "Dear are you having a seizure?" that's when I realized that the dance party was over.

Oh well. I'm hoping that the miss every third note Sally comes to play the piano tomorrow.

It's Not About the Money

A Big Fat ALOHA!

Yes I'm back from my self imposed blogging vacation/ break from writing. I needed a little space in order to get back together from the marathon. 14 hour work days, and family. Yes sometimes you need a break from them too. Oh and Maren? Hawaii was wonderful since you were the only person who guessed where I was going so I'll drop it off.

So what have I been up to you may ask? Well deary ducks I went Hawaii which was wonderful (how could Hawaii be awful I ask you?) but that's not the focus of this story. This one focuses on Cancer, Phone Sex Operators, and why I'm not allowed to watch TV anymore.

As some of you know I don't have television at home. I chose to have internet and electrical power instead so I had to give up my daily feast of Oprah, Grey's Anatomy, Dr. Oz, House Hunters, and thousands of other shows. Which has been fine freeing up my time allowed me to complete such projects as organizing my sock drawer and praying for orphans in Africa (I know I know I'm a "saint". ) but on vacation when you stay in hotels they have this wonderful amenity besides the free soaps and shower caps called free TV! Not only just the regular channels but cable too!

Lately the last few months I have had problems with my voice. I've always had rather a high pitched voice (not by choice let me tell you there is nothing better than answering the phone to Ma'am is your husband home?) but I've had this sore throat/ mucus problem which has caused my voice to go through puberty all over again (cause it was so much fun the first time) high and low and sometimes I sound like a 64 year old chain smoking phone sex operator named Rhonda.

Back to the story.

As I was slathering myself up in sun screen I had this wonderful box on and I had turned on to Dr. Oz. and I wasn't really paying attention till the guest was talking about a cancer that was killing more people but hadn't really been talked or campaigned about. Its known as throat cancer. So of course Dr. Oz starts listing off the symptoms.

1. Frequent sore throat (CHECK!)

2. Loss of voice or breathless quality (Check?)

3. Voice changing ranging (CHECK CHECK!)

At this point I'm starting to think Oh dear. I've got cancer. I've got the Cancer! That cancer they are talking about I've got it!

and finally the last symptom Tumors or lumps on the neck area at this point I'm choking myself going is that a lump? Is that lump? After working myself up into a brief frenzy I realized something. They were talking about months of these symptoms I've had for two weeks. Oh dear.

So no I don't have the cancer. But this is why I'm not allowed to watch TV anymore.

Oh well. Nice try Dr. Oz.