A Letter To My Bod

Dear Body:

You have been a good body Ive been really pleased about our relationship. You breathe you eat and make it possible for me to do everything I need to do in the course of a day. Remember that time we went to the beach...it was all thanks to you. You body are to be commended.

Lately I've noticed you are beginning to hmmm.. whats a nice way to put it..fall apart. I'm not sure who gave you the fall apart message perhaps it was that nasty 5th vertebrae (she's always causing problems) or maybe someone told you this year we would be turning 40.

Contrary to popular belief 40 does not mean one has to fall to pieces. It is not necessary to tell hair follicles to fall out. It's not par for the course to cause us to end up in the hospital in abdominal pain. Neither do you need to give into to migraines, excessive gas, incontinence, scumming to gravity in important and unflattering areas,wrinkling, hemorrhoids or anything else you may associate with the dreaded four zero.

It is my great hope that we will have many many long years left together. I would love to see the world and body it would be my greatest dream to have you there with me. So do me a favor ignore the big four zero its just a number and not a message of destruction and please tell the 5th vertebrae to get a life.

Love,
Suzie

Post Cards From the Hospital

Some people know how to vacation. They go to Peru or Bornio. Some people prefer Disney or Universal. I however being the unique soul that I am I choose the hospital. Yes the last few days I have been in the hospital throwing up blood and experiencing what can only be described as labor without the wonderful little present at the end.

Wednesday I woke up in the middle of the night feeling as though fairies were pulling my spleen out of my toenails. After a fun filled night of moaning and scaring my husband into an early grave I went to the doctor who quickly sent me to the emergency room. From there I was admitted into the hospital from hell for a fun filled night of injections in the stomach being poked in places even my husband would not dare to go and lemon flavored jello ((shudder)).

I wont bore you with all the details but suffice it to say that Beth Israel is one horrible hospital. And after being poked and prodded and cat scanned and dog scanned the doctor followed by a team of groveling interns said So what do you think is wrong with you?

I laughed and then realized he was serious and staring at this bunch of incompetents I answered My doctorate is in Education Administration ask me whats wrong with a school I can tell you but reading a cat scan is not my speciality.

The doctor and his gang looked disappointed they shrugged their shoulders and moved on to ask another patient to analyze a brain scan.

So according to dopey sneezy and doc I either have an ulcer, gal stones, food poisoning, an alien abduction that went wrong, or a hang nail.

Either way someone owes me a trip to Disney World.

Give Me Back My Candy!

On Friday in my preschool graduation anxiety I bought a candy bar. Not any candy bar but a Hershey bar. I have to be in the right mood to eat them but when I am they are just so good. I ate a few bites and put it away in my draw for another day. You never know when a chocolate bar could come in handy. All weekend I thought about that bar. I knew Monday morning if I wanted to I could walk in my office at 7am and eat the whole thing.

On Monday I came into my office and there on my desk was a wrapper. A brown crumpled up wrapper. Yes, someone had eaten my candy bar. At first I was ok with it. NO biggy. I could have had other things stolen I mean a candy bar is not much to loose. But as the week has gone on (yes I know it is only Tuesday) I have gotten more resentful about that bar.

I mean I could be eating its delicious chocolatiness right now. But no! Some lunatic bursts into my office over the weekend and steals my little piece of joy. What mean nasty person does a thing like that. Its my candy bar! Not theirs! I am trying not to let my obsession grow but now I want to find this person. I want to find out what kind of heartless meany would do such a thing. I will not rest until I have found the culprit. I will not cease until I have caught the evil dooer and brought them to cholatey justice!

On the flip side B's graduation was great. Here's a picture. Isn't he cute?



and here is an empanada (as some of you were not familiar with its flaky crust and its yummy meat or cheese filling)

and here is a picture of a chocolate bar

cute as well but please note the chocolate bar is not holding a diploma and does not have a flaky crust or a yummy meat or cheese filling..

Poor chocolate bar....

I may be a little obsessed

My Own Little Panic Attack

Today is B's preschool graduation. Not only is my little boy graduating but I as director I am helping run the thing.

Last night as I sat on the couch watching I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here which is now my favorite show on TV. (I mean seeing Janice Dickinson steal granola bars and urinate in camp has to be one of the most brilliant forms of entertainment ever created.) I began to wonder what dish I should bring to the graduation should I order a pizza or make empanadas?

It was no longer a simple choice it was THE choice. I found I could no longer breath. My heart raced. I began to mumble pizza no empanada.

I mean kids love pizza right and grown ups love empanadas the choice was staggering and before I knew it I was hyperventilating. I knew if I didn't make the right choice the empanada demons would take over the world and the pizza that I ordered would have saved all the inhabitants of earth. My husband turned to me and with a wild look of concern on his face. I clutched at my throat and gurgled pizza.

Yes I was having a full panic attack over what to bring to the graduation.

You would think with the state of the world today fiances being what it was I would find something sensible to have a panic attack over but no, being the overachiever I am I decided to go full panic out on graduation.

Honey my Hubby assured me I will bring the food calm down its all gonna be fine.

No I gasped its not its not

And before I knew it I was boo-hooing over little B going to kindergarten. My little baby leaving his mommies school and going into the big public school. I saw tests and bullies and detention in his future and began to wail. My hubby grabbed the vodka and assured me he would be fine and keep repeating he would order the pizza.

After a big cocktail and some onion dip visualizations I was breathing a little easier as Janice climbed into a glass cage filled with alligators.

I might be ok now but don't blame me if your day is cut short by wild hoards of empanada demons. You've been warned.

I'm Back!

I'm back. Did you miss me? The trip was great lots of sunshine and deck chairs. Lots of fatty foods and frozen drinks. And the crowning glory , child care! Ahh that was the life.

But now I am back and normal life comes flying at you faster than a baby on a greased sit and spin.

So to really get a good does of reality I went to sign up for driving lessons. It was a brave move on my part since I've never been comfortable with the idea of driving. I always crash those electronic driving game into the wall or run someone over in the first two minutes. But I made a promise to myself that I will learn how to drive in the next three months. So I swallowed my fear and went to sign up at the driving school. Of course I asked lots of questions like are their duel controls for me and the driver? Will the teacher yell at me? How many people crash while learning?

The woman was very nice and answered all of my questions and then said to me:

I know how hard it is for middle aged woman to learn how to drive? Middle aged woman always ask questions like that.

WHAT?!?!

WHAT DID SHE SAY!?!

MIDDLE AGED WOMAN! ME? WHAT THE...!?!

Suddenly my fear of driving was the least of my worries I was now a middle aged woman. I guess I saw it coming people no longer calling me miss and the dreaded Ma'am rearing its ugly head. The reduction of cat calls while passing construction sites. The rechecking if its mammogram time at the doc. It all lead here to the first time I have been called middle aged.

Suddenly there I was a middle aged woman standing in a driving school. It was awful it was unpleasant and worst of all it was the truth (I think how old is middle aged anyway? Isn't it 50 now. I mean jeepers I'm only 39! Still a spring chicken still in my thirties at least for another few months. Whats wrong with that chick anyway who says things like that! That's it I'm taking my toys and going home!)

I should have never come back from vacation.