I sent it to my staff and told them I never want to hear about errors in emails again. And to Bushlette. And to my mother. And to my anal retentive English teacher.
BUSHLETTE HAS MADE A VERY IMPORTANT DECISION!!!
I don’t think I ever want to get married!
I might be able to attribute this decision to “daddy issues”, but I think I will end up as one of those women who, at age 48(24 years from now), has been with the same man for 8 to 12 years, but won’t ever get married. I’ll call him my “partner” because after being in an 8 to 12 year relationship, “boyfriend” will sound too juvenile. Because I will refer to him this way, people will think I’m a lesbian, which he and I will always take in good humor as we spend our nights drinking dry wine from the east of Bolivia and staring sideways at abstract paintings.
I will wear long flowy skirts with delicately embellished flips flops that I will acquire on my vacation to a quaint, untouched Caribbean island. My scarves won’t match my outfits, and I will learn how to sew. As of now, I can’t knit, but I will try to learn in my spare time (when I’m 48). I will knit hideous scarves and sweaters for my family and closest friends. As ugly as they will be, these tokens of love will be appreciated because of how much they love me. I will have no idea that my knitting is horrendous…but those are the kinds of friends and family members I will be lucky enough to have.
Hummus will be one of my closest allies! I will eat a modest diet of completely healthy foods that are good for me but taste like cardboard…not because I should, but because I’ll like them! Okay…maybe I won’t like all of them, but most of them! I will like most of them!
I look forward to adding to this list! These thoughts were recently extracted from the tiny part of me that generates the most ridiculous, and most honest ideas that make my brain blush.
What makes your brain blush? 😉
For a woman who has never actually got down to figuring out whether her own uterus works… this was pretty hilarious!
I’m going to turn 39 years old this month and it dawned on me that I haven’t used my uterus for anything in the last EIGHT years. That’s a long time to haul around an extraneous internal organ, don’t you think? It wouldn’t be a big deal if my uterus was one of those organs that keeps to itself and doesn’t cause any trouble, like my spleen. But once a month my uterus forces me to take to the couch – where I spend hours miserably clutching an electric heating pad, popping Advil like M&Ms, and biting the heads off of innocent passersby.
Why should I have to go through the pain and hassle of having a uterus that I’m never going to use again? I knew when I gave birth to my son back in 2004 that my uterus would never again be used as a baby hotel –…
View original post 693 more words
…at least my good behaviour!
There are old school dermatologists that see duct tape as the answer to everything. The lady who has cared for me is one of them. I have gone to her for years and duct tape with acid was her prescription.
A bit like an annoying ex boyfriend who decides to stalk you, the Plantar Wart is something I’ve battled for some years. On my big toe no less. It makes high heals feel higher (and sting) and makes pedicures embarrassing. It makes working out very painful (never thought of it before but I can blame it for a few pounds of fat well!) and it makes sand difficult to walk on (the grains dig in and get stuck). After four years of duct tape my doctor finally said she’d use a laser. And she must have forgotten because the next time I saw her she was back to duct tape.
Getting a hint that something could be done instantly about this pain in the toe I switched gears and called a new clinic. They had a new dermatologist, 3 months in town, come on down and try us out. And so, sod it all, I did.
Walking into the office I met someone a bit like me. Young, tall, smart, sharp-witted, and spanish speaking. Like me but slimmer and more pretty. She introduced herself by her first name (Oh my goodness, gotta love progress) and sat me down. She took one look and said come back in a week and we’ll freeze this thing off.
Back flips inside! I was starting to see this thing like herpes or something – constantly unpleasant and unkillable. Thanking God for the good sense to seek a second opinion, if somewhat delayed, I got into my car and went home.
Then the day came. Excited I was. Until I sat and signed the waiver. An acknowledgement that this could be painful. “You have been advised and you understand that you will feel some pain, and in some cases severe pain…” Eh?!! Calling in the nurse I asked her is there any anaesthetic? Looking both ways she said in heavy Scottish brogue, “To be honest no, luv. It’s a mite nippy. I’ve had cryotherrapy beforre, don’t get me wrrong it warks. But therre is a bite.”
Ahhhh boy. Asking the doctor now I’m like “Doctor Rebeka, is this going to be painful?” Her answer… “it will feel like a cigarette burn. But don’t worry – we do this to cheeldren.”
Rasta! When that torch turned on my foot I near came off the bed. It was like a bikini wax without the soothing cream and baby powder. On my big toe. Taking a few layers of skin off… with a torch. Knotting knuckles together I squeezed by eyes shut, my lips shut, my thighs shut and my innards shut as the torch came back again. Six repeats of a cigarette burn!
Hobbling home with a bandage around my foot I was a wee bit in shock. And treatment calls for a repeat in three weeks – God help us!
It had better work.
Isn’t it amazing how two animals of the same breed and from the same parents can be so different?
Take Lola. She LOVES to be naked. Julius sees it as a violation of all things macho and canine – the core values he stands (and pees) for. Yesterday they were trimmed low low low (to the noyaz as a Caymanian would say). Ready for the Summer heat and to combat the insect infestation that comes with rainy season.
Take this morning’s walk…
Lola is all smiles and ready to go show off her haircut…
But Juju is like “MAMA WHYYYYYYY!!! ALL THE OTHER DOGS ARE GONNA LAUGH AT MEEEEEE!!!!!”
Lola prances along like it’s a catwalk… “See mama? See how the haircut makes me look like I’m smiling? Isn’t that funny? Cuz dog’s don’t smile right?”
She dances and pounces, chases other dogs and pulls to the end of her leash. “Mama try this angle! What about this one?! Aren’t I just too cute?!” (Julius – ” Expeditionist Brat”)
But not so my mortified Julius. He is determined to turn his back to me until I give in and take him inside to hide his shame. I’m lucky I got a shot of his face!
But turning your back has other disadvantages… and leaves nothing to the imagination.