Saturday, July 28, 2012

I'm on Strike

It's been said that if you toss a frog into a pot of simmering water, it will leap back out to protect itself. But if you put the frog in lukewarm water and slowly bring up the heat, the frog won't even realize it's being boiled alive until it dies.

It feels like that's what's happening to me.

My blood feels like it's on fire half the time and I sweat buckets, often when thrashing in bed trying to sleep or exerting myself through athletics such as sitting or walking across the room. Friday morning I woke up to find I'd torn off my jammies in my sleep and had soaked the sheets. I get headaches that come out of nowhere and make me vomit.

I'm simply irresistible, yes?

I sleep plenty but I'm never rested. I drive to work feeling as though I am dozing off the whole way.

And lately?

I'm losing minutes.

I'll be in the middle of a mundane task like washing a dish and I'll realize I can't remember the past few minutes. At all. It's an awful feeling, albeit really? In the grand scheme of things we should all be so lucky as to forget our time doing dishes.

But when it happens behind the wheel (which it has now, a few times), it's everlovin' terrifying.

On Thursday something happened. I don't know how to explain it other than saying my body went on strike. It's like it stopped listening to my brain. Lunch break for the muscles. Equilibrium took a vacation too, the bastard.

I was stumbling and my vision was off. I lost most control of my hands, they just wouldn't grip. I could barely hold a pen. My eyes weren't tracking.

The CT didn't show any masses or anything. I mean, other than the mass of my brain, which was confirmed. So now more tests.

I'm not looking for a fuss, please - I'm sure everything's fine. I just wanted to explain why I've been an absentee blogger - mere preoccupation. Also, I would like to state for the record that I have blood test results to prove that my hormone levels are just fine, Dear Husband*. I am not PMSy or shriveling up, to which I believe most folks attribute every female symptom in the world.

Lest I leave you thinking I've succumbed to anxiety and frustration, I want to share positive news as well.

The Bloggess will be at a Barnes & Noble nearby soon and I'm totally stoked. Maybe she'll give me some advice or a dirty look or something since I didn't make it to her panel at the book expo in New York. Or possibly she'll sign my boob.

Also in the literary world my books will be shipping to me in SIX DAYS although I'm certainly not counting. Or peeing a little in anticipation.

*Dear Husband deserves a shout out. He has been very tolerant of my oddities lately, even when my sweat infringes on his side of the bed.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Living a Little

I have saved a lot of cookie fortunes for luck over the years, like the one that says YOU WILL BECOME AN ACCOMPLISHED WRITER and the one that reads YOU WILL HAVE COMFORT AND WEALTH, and such. A recent fortune has predicted I'll receive a high award or prize very soon, which I know must naturally be a book deal*.


I've had some odd symptoms of late and after a recent trip to the clinic I informed my husband that the doc and I will give the syptoms another 30 days to resolve or we'll do a quick MRI. Of my brain.

To which he responds instantly without even pausing to gather his breath.

"It's probably brain cancer. I'm guessing you'll die now and then I'll get to rake in the profits from your book. It's like your fortune said - you'll come into wealth, but you'll totally die right away. I'll use the money to buy myself a motorcycle. Think of all the tail I'll get. I'll be the poor widower who lost the love of his life. I'll use some of your ashes when I get a custom paint job for the bike, they'll just blend you right in. I'll name the bike after you. Everyone will feel sorry for me. They'll cook for me and sleep with me. I'm never getting married again, this will be awesome."

I just looked at him, jaw hanging.

"Don't worry," he assures me. "I'll grieve you for a month before I sleep with anyone."

He gives me chills, the romance is simply breathtaking.

It occurs to me, though, that he has an alarming number of fantasies that involve my demise. He frequently fondles the idea of pushing me down the basement steps. He delights in threatening that, most likely because he's right - everyone  would believe I tripped.

And then there was the time I saw he'd Googled making chloroform and industrial disposal.

But that was totally a joke.

(I'm sure.)

He obviously doesn't really want me dead because we went tubing together yesterday and he resisted all urges knock me off the tube, in fact hoisting me back aboard repeatedly when we doubled up.

Trust me when I tell you this is not my husband's nature. You should have seen the look of glee on his face the first time he shot me with a paintball. I'm a bit shocked he didn't just hip check me and send me hurtling face first into the wake.

Today I feel as though I went tumbling down a rocky hill naked. Bruises are sprouting up across the landscape of my body like weeds and I ache in places - well, just everywhere.

It was so worth it though.

Sunshine on my face, flying across the water just howling with laughter, the sound swallowed by the boat.

One of those stupid happy moments generally reserved for dogs with their heads sticking out the window of a whizzing vehicle.

Sometimes you just have to play.


*Aw, shucks. Confessions of a Recovering Cynic to be released in print August 2012

I know, you can hardly sleep, it's such exciting news.

No. I won't share my Ambien. I have to draw lines.

Friday, July 6, 2012

A Very Serious PSA

I'm filing a lawsuit against CardFlex for assault with a deadly weapon. And also fraud. And possibly post traumatic stress disorder and a little bit of rape on my mouth.

I got a free lip balm from CardFlex at a trade show.

Now, I know there's no such thing as a free lip balm lunch but for the love of all that is holy WARN A GIRL THAT IT'S BANANA FLAVORED!

You may argue against assault charges here but let's face it, I COULD HAVE DIED.

If I were allergic, you know. And allergies are no joke, people - look at all the fucking peanut kids. And you may argue my relevance but it's definitely CardFlex's civic responsiblity to alert people to potential life-threatening allergens in their promotional products.

Before you start trivializing the situation in regard to damages, I implore you to think for a moment. If I'd been literally rather than psychologically allergic to bananas the anaphylactic shock could have slowed blood flow to my brain rendering me brain damaged. A living vegetable, a burden to all those around me. My loved ones would have to change my diapers and spoon pureed peas into my mouth thrice daily.

That would be expensive.

So I think I'm being fairly reasonable in claiming only $750,000 in punitive damages. If they manufactured even a thousand of those lip balms and everyone was allergic to banana, it would cost would cost them...well, a lot more than $750K.

The bottom line here is that it's a very serious situation and we need to make certain that CardFlex understands this and owns up to their negligence.

I may not actually be allergic to bananas but they taste like hell and ass combined and I brushed my teeth for ages while retching into the sink. The flavor is still haunting me.
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