Thursday, February 10, 2011

I Laugh Out Loud

at the most juvenile things. I do. This evening (around 1:00 a.m.) Linus and I were walking in the snow and enjoying the quiet, when I stepped in a small pothole, slipped a little, and simultaneously farted a fart that sounded a bit like a low pitched clown horn. Well, you know how it is when it snows, quiet, peaceful, never too cold. This echoed. My laugh echoed. I couldn't stop laughing. It was better than an episode of I Love Lucy. Linus just stared at me with his furrowed brow concerned look: concerned that I hurt myself, concerned that I was actually crying, or just concerned that I was going crazy. 

Random, unrelated bridge: I'm in a bit of a pickle. My penchant for peace these days is putting me in the position of peacemaker, naturally; however, treading lightly is not always my strongest suit, and peacemaking often demands it. I meditated tonight, but all I could concentrate on was the fact that my back is currently so weak that it hurts to sit up straight for a long period of time. It's good to know but doesn't get me any closer to a solution. I realize I'm being vague. It's on purpose.

Anyway, back the fact that farting out loud is probably one of the funniest things in the world. I enjoy the irony of it. The fact that it's so frowned upon in civilized circles. I made a joke once when having fun with a whoopie cushion. Someone asked me if I could sit on the cushion and make myself burp at the same time. I did my "laugh that morphs into a cry" to indicate the fact that being able to do so would secure my place in the realm of singledom forever, and we were just talking about a whoopie cushion. A few months later, while chopping vegetables and listening to NPR (the most civilized of activities, in my opinion) I actually farted out loud and immediately burped this long drawn out belch. I froze. I had DONE IT. I was officially too disgusting for words. SO, I laughed out loud...for a LONG time. I gave myself the hiccups.

I believe it was Benjamin Franklin that said, "Fart proudly." If I am correct, doesn't that make me the most patriotic of Americans? I should say it does.

P.S. yeah. I know I just grossed some of you out. Especially my mother (well, I really just embarrassed the living daylights out of my mother). Apologies.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Dear Future Caroline

Dear Future Caroline,

Worrying doesn't do anyone any good. Remember how you always worry about money, and SOMEHOW, everything works out? Yeah. Keep remembering that.

Also, don't forget how freeing it is to DELEGATE. Trying to do everything yourself because you'll do it the best is WRONG. It's actually a sin. The worst of all the sins. Worse than public displays of affection (unless someone else is PDAing...then that's worse). Other people want to help, and they will bring new and fresh ideas to you. Other people are talented and good. Yay for other people!

Gaining weight in the winter is warm. Do not fear it.

If you put your clothes away now, you don't have to do it later...after your cat pees on them.

Never click on a link entitled "Secret Crush Revealer." Boooooooooooo.

If a cat headbutts you, it is because the cat thinks you are cool. Guess what: you are cool in the eyes of many cats. This also means that you are "crazy" in the eyes of a lot of "people."

If your pants don't fit. Buy pants that fit. Stop being lame and uncomfortable. MR. PANTS loves you regardless of your muffin top (again...a lot of people will not think this is sweet...but rather "crazy).

Star Trek is awesome.

Antibiotics WILL give you heartburn. Be prepared.

Trust your friends. They don't sit around judging you. They really really don't. Right?


Go sit on a beach in Mexico right now...or, you know...soon.

You are, more than anything, YOU. Don't try to be anything else and never compromise the things that make you THAT. It is more painful than having really bad gas on a first date....and you KNOW how painful that can be.


P.S. Sometimes cheap Chinese(ish) food really hits the spot.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Reason Number 78 That I Defy Intelligence (because saying I'm dumb is too harsh)

Sometimes I can be really dumb. I mean, I'm such a smart lady and then I go and do a thing like this: I got sick, as you've read, and I thought, ten days later, that my cold had run its course. I was wrong. My cold never went away. It seemed to get better, and I assumed that it was going to continue to get better...and I guess I thought I was better, just really tired. I got used to being sick for about two weeks after the worst of it. Then, luckily, my mom came to visit and told me after about a day of being here that I had to let her take me to the doctor because I was clearly too run-down to be healthy. So, we saw a nurse, and she told me that once a cold goes past 10-12 days, it's safe to assume that your immune system isn't going to kick in, and you're stuck with an infection. 

Since I started having bad luck with antibiotics fending off infection for longer than a couple of months back in 01-02, I decided to wait out my "sick days" and let my immune system try its hand at keeping me healthy. Before, I had always run to the doctor at the first sign of illness. Of course, another reason I decided to let my immune system do the work was that I had fallen off my parents' healthcare at 22 (yeah, the dark ages) and couldn't afford (or get accepted) to buy healthcare for myself. I couldn't afford to keep going to the doctor every time I felt the exhausting sadness of a cold coming on. And whatdya know? My immune system turned out to be pretty rad. I had to wait through a good 4-7 days of grrrrr + ickiness, but, in return, my body fended off infection a lot more efficiently. I stopped getting colds all the time. In fact, I only had to deal with a cold twice a year after that...which is pretty normal for adults (pause, Alexander the Great is giving Mr. Pants a sweet, thorough bath right now-they are my cats). 

Moral: sometimes you can't beat it. Sometimes the cold decides to make it's soujourn in my body a little longer, and ends up turning into an infection. I'm hard-headed though and try to avoid going to the doctor at all cost (mostly because it's expensive--STILL, and I have insurance now....and I pay for that too....GAAAAAAAAAAH MONEY!!!!! I digress). In this case, my staunch immunosuperiority got the best of me, and I had to spend two weeks wondering why the hell 9 hours of sleep still left me feeling like I'd been run over by a truck by lunch time? Coffee lost its effect and hence its joy (Now Mr. Pants is washing Alexander the Great). I could barely make it through one song at karaoke. Something was wrong,  I ignored it, and I paid a price.

Well, I tell you, since I started the anitbiotics and steroids, I feel so much better. I didn't even realize I felt as bad as I did, I just kept going, feeling like, somehow, I was never getting enough sleep, even though I totally was...more than enough, or I was spreading myself too thin, which I wasn't. Hooray for moms!!

Hey. What can I say, I'm an incredibly irrational/hard-headed (really intelligent) lady. The big picture, people. It's the only way I get by.