I picked up the dog from boarding today, and he promptly had diarrhea all over my wood floors.  Ack.  Welcome home, Magnus!

Then I went to the dentist where it turns out they had been sent the wrong part for my Robo-Mouth.  So I have to wait yet another week to be finished.  Still, I’m three weeks from being done, so I’m okay with it.

After that, I had to go to Target because there is no food or diet Big Red in house.  I don’t care about the food right now, but having no soda is just totally unacceptable.  When I was getting my cart, this lady came in with her seventy children (okay, it was more like four, but they moved around like Sonic the Hedgehog, so it seemed like a lot more).  They immediately got all sorts of in my way, so I was already annoyed with them.  A little later, I ran into them again and they were dancing and twirling and buzzing all up and down the cereal aisle which was crowded with the dude stocking more cereal.  I couldn’t get out.  Finally, Fuckass the Angry Clown possessed me, and I said, “Jesus Christ, lady, can you control your freaking offspring please?”  Mind you, I like never drop JC bombs, so there’s a rather large indicator of my level of irritation.  She looked at me all shocked, and I said, “What?  I said ‘please’!”  Then she looked like she wanted to kick my ass into Michigan, and considering how I’m feeling all puny and she was like six feet tall and she had about a hundred pounds I me, I kind of didn’t think it was the time or place for a throw-down.  So I fled the scene which required backing out.  Eeeekkkk!

Yesterday I was in that lonely sick place so I thought I was ready to be out and about amongst the peeps.  Not so much.  So I’ll stay home and hang with the dog for the rest of the day.  I bought him a Kong.  I’ve never seen him so happy.


I have blisters on the arches of my feet from my beautiful new skates.  You bastards!!!  *shakes fist at the heavens*  Yeah, it sucks.  A second ouchy thing is that my dog accidentally ran me into the stair post which is big and wide and solid wood.  My back hurts.  So I think that yesterday when I was skating, I was somehow compensating for my back with my ass.  Don’t ask how.  I do not know.  I do know that my butt hurts today.  It was very sore this morning, then fine during skating, and now it hurts again.  Actually, my whole lower body is pretty sore.  I would love a massage if I didn’t think that would hurt too.

Anyway … I’ve been looking for pink sheets for my bed.  Just ’cause.  Mostly I think because boys don’t really go for pink sheets so I haven’t had any since like college.  Now that it’s just me, I can have all the pink I want!  The problem was finding the exact right color of pink.  I like really pale pink, and I finally found some at Target.  The only problem with them is that the top sheet and the pillow cases have this ruffle on them.  Gaggers.  I’m not a ruffly or floral kind of girl.  Pottery Barn had some that were really cute with polka dots, but I’m not paying Pottery Barn prices for sheets.  That’s right, I’m cheap!

On the diet front, progress has been made.  I’ve lost 5.4 of the 8 pounds I gained.  My goal is to lose six more by my Cha Cha test which is November 4.  I had a bad dream about it on Friday night.  We (meaning me and my coach – I get to test with him, yay) finished the dance, and he said, “Not bad” which is like gushing praise from him.  Then the judge walked out on the ice and said, “I’m sorry, we won’t be able to pass you.  You didn’t do the Twizzles.”

I looked at D, who looked bewildered, and then I said, “What Twizzles?”  P.S., a Twizzle is like a moving pirouette.  Everyone hates them. 

She said, “We’ve added Twizzles here, and here, and here.”  She walked to each spot on the ice where the alleged Twizzles were to occur.

I’m standing there just thinking ‘what the hell?’.  There are no Twizzles in the Cha Cha!  I asked when they added them, and she said, “Oh last week.  You should’ve gotten a memo.  Too many people were passing this dance, and well, we can’t let just anyone pass the Cha Cha!”

Needless to say, I woke up in a cold sweat and ran downstairs to check my USFS rulebook just to make sure they hadn’t gone insane and added Twizzles to a low level dance.  They didn’t.  What a dork!

What sucks about this whole test is that I tried to take it last December, but when I failed the damn Dutch Waltz, I wasn’t allowed to take the Cha Cha test since it’s a level up.  I retook the Dutch Waltz in March, and probably should’ve signed up for the Cha Cha then, but I didn’t want to chance paying for it and not being allowed to take it again if I flunked.  Then this summer, I fell apart with a lack of ice, and the plan had been to take Cha Cha and Swing Dance in July I think.  So no test.  I missed the deadline anyway.  Then my Swing Dance fell apart, so here I am, taking a test that should’ve been over with almost a year ago.  Urgh!  Luckily the Swing Dance is coming back together, so maybe we’ll knock it out by February.  We’ll see though!  The good news is that I’m getting plenty of ice time now.  I want to get to where I’ve got one Bronze test out of the way by summer so I can compete at that level.  D may make me wait and have me compete at Pre-Bronze though.  Gross.  It’s a common practice, but one I don’t necessarily agree with or like.

I have to go to dance class in a minute, but I bought a digital camera this weekend and wanted to put that in here.  This is pretty monumental for me because it’s my first technological purchase without a man guiding me to buy what he really wanted.  My mom helped me though.  Still not totally independent yet, am I?

Rich and I broke up last night.  I’ll write about all that later – not today.  It’s probably for the best, but that doesn’t change the fact that it pisses me right off.  Anyway, that’ll end up being a very long post I’m sure, so let’s save it for another day.

In the meantime, I ordered kitchen chairs from Target.  We’ve been using his dining set, and I have an old table out in the garage, but no chairs for it.  Basically, it’s a table from my first marriage and the table’s great, but the chairs sucked and broke one by one over the years.  So when I moved out from that marriage, I took the table and used folding chairs.  Yeah, I’m that tacky!  Then we ended up eating in the family room because folding chairs suck more ass than any other seating that I can think of right now.  I’m not doing that again!  Anyway, the table is a natural wood butcher block table, and the old chairs were natural wood spindleback chairs.  Pretty ordinary.  This time I got black wood with rush seats.  My kitchen cabinets are maple wood with black painted into the grooves, you know, where the raised parts are – those seams are black.  Then the crown, which is a dentil molding, has black in all the recessed parts.  That doesn’t sound right at all, so I’ll see if I can find a picture.  Of course the digital camera is Rich’s, so I won’t be using that to make any pictures for this.  Damn, another thing I’m gonna have to get at some point in life.  Okay, here are the cabinets – they’re the Kincaid ones (just roll over Kincaid and the picture will change to that.  Then in your imagination, take a wee tiny paintbrush and paint in the recessed lines black.  Tada!  I cannot even tell you how long it took me to find those online, dang!  I was on a mission though.  Here are the chairs.

Okay, so I’m gonna be out of commission for a couple of days because of my teeth, but when I come back, I’ll write about the whole lovely breakup.  

My non-puking streak of six years has come to a sad and tragic end.  Last night at three a.m., I asked Rich for a painkiller and a glass of apple juice.  My blood sugar was low, low, low because I didn’t eat doodly-squat yesterday, and my mouth was killing me (we’ll get to that in a moment).  On the bottle of Vicodin, it clearly states to take with food or milk.  Apparently, while in my world apple juice is food, it is not so in the pharmaceutical world.  And I’m lactose intolerant, so milk was out of the question!  So for the next hour and twenty minutes, I had the cold sweats and prayed to the Puke Gods to let me go for the evening.  Oops, too late.  They had me.  At 4:18 a.m., I was talking to Ralph on the big white telephone, driving the porcelain bus, praying to the porcelain god, etc.  It was horrid.  All it did was remind me of why I could never be a good bulimic, why I don’t like to get rip-roaring drunk, and why I don’t like painkillers.  And there I was, thinking I was more than halfway to a decade without a barfing episode.  Damn.

Okay, the dentist appointment … I don’t remember much, thanks to the Halcion.  I do remember taking the second one at the office, but I don’t remember getting to the office.  I remember being very cold, and I remember Dr. K saying, “Okay, it’s out” in reference to my former tooth.  Oh, and I do remember asking for my gloves because my hands were freezing.  We got Smoothies on the way home and I have a little memory of eating mine (couldn’t drink it because you’re not allowed to use a straw after an extraction).  I don’t remember getting home or changing into jammies.  The next thing I remember clearly is waking up on the couch.  I emailed Duke, but I don’t know what I said, but from his reply, I know I asked about his ankle (he says it’s fine and not to worry) and I said something about painkillers (he said to enjoy them).  I don’t keep copies of sent mail, so the actual content shall remain a mystery.  Most of the rest of the day is foggy.  That’s a very bizarre feeling.

At some point last night, I decided it would be a good idea to take out my flipper (which is not like I thought it would be – it’s basically a retainer with a tooth and without a wire on the front of your teeth.  So I now talk like a twelve year old with a retainer.  This is doing nothing to help me as I already sounded like a five year old).  I took it out, felt the stitches (oh yes, I have stitches in my mouth, ack!), saw blood, rinsed, and lastly spit.  Then I got really upset (drugs) and went crying to Rich.  He was like, “You took it out?  You aren’t supposed to take it out.  Why’d you do that?”  Oh dear, yet another thing of which I have no memory.  I had no idea I wasn’t supposed to take it out.  I can today, but I was supposed to leave it alone for 24 hours.  I also wasn’t supposed to rinse or spit until today.  Oops, my bad.  It was all on the sheet they gave me.  The sheet I didn’t remember getting.  Great.  Luckily they told Rich everything I was supposed to do and not do, but when you’re allowed to go to the bathroom on your own, and you’re me and very curious, you’re going to fuck it all up.

Another thing I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t supposed to do anything for two days but rest because of the stitches.  I was all set to go skate this morning and was setting my alarm last night when Rich said that I couldn’t.  War ensued, and I lost due to puke.  It’s maybe a good thing because I felt like crapola this morning.  I did feel bad for cancelling on Duke though.  One question about that though – if I wasn’t supposed to do anything because of my stitches, then why are hockey players able to get stitched up and go right back out on the ice?  Hardly fair.  *grumble*

My mouth hurts like a mofo, but I’m not taking anymore Vicodin.  Those little shits ruined The Streak!  Plus, I’m going to have to workout like crazy tomorrow to make up for this.  Two days of doing nothing but sitting on my ass.  Not good!  I did go to Target today though.  I bought this jacket, which quite frankly looks better on me than it does on this poor girl, and this skirt.  Well, sort of that skirt.  Mine has grey dots on it, but they didn’t have that one online.  This one is the same cut though.  There is a cute shirt that goes with the skirt, but I didn’t get it.  To fit my boobs, I had to go up a size, and then it was huge everywhere else and looked all wrong.  Stupid big boobs.  I have shirts at home that I can wear with it though.  I really love the jacket – it’s too cold for it now, but soon it’ll be perfect!

My sister comes into town tomorrow for Anjelica’s baby shower!  My son and I are totally excited to see her and her baby bump.  He’s so excited about his cousin-to-be.  We were at Starbucks today, and he was calculating how old he would be when the baby was certain ages, and how old I would be as well.  Ick!