Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Salmonella actually has nothing to do with salmons

My husband has an irrational fear of raw chicken. 

Seriously.

If I decide I'm going to cook chicken and use the cutting board to cut it while it's still raw, he is lurking right behind me immediately ready with the Lysol antibacterial spray to clean every single surface the chicken *may* have touched.  Including, but not limited to, the coffee maker, the knife, the drawer handles, the dog and/or my face.

I'm not sure I can blame the guy though...he did almost die of salmonella once.

We actually didn't know that's what it was until he had spent FOUR, yes FOUR days in the hospital.  Because apparently that's how long it takes for salmonella to grow in a petri dish.  Who knew?

Okay, so here's what happened. We went out on a Thursday night to see a concert at the rodeo in town.  I was pregnant, so I had a huge serving of rodeo nachos (for those uneducated in all things Southern, rodeo nachos are corn chips slathered with fake cheese and huge jalapenos....often seen at rodeos, ball games and NASCAR races).  My husband, being not pregnant as only guys can be, had about three beers during the rodeo and the show.

A grand time was had by all (mmmm...nachos...).

The next day, he literally cannot get out of bed.  He starts complaining about his stomach hurting and generally spends the day either in the bed or in the bathroom.  I am convinced that he A) has food poisoning or B) has turned in to a giant pansy and can't handle three draft beers.  This goes on for about a day and a half....and he's still assuring me that he doesn't need to go to the hospital.  At one point, he stumbles from the bedroom and says he's actually hungry.  No problem....food, I can handle.  A sick man? Not so much.

After making a trip to get food that he DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER! I decided it was time for medical attention and hauled his ass to the hospital.  Now that we're going to the hospital? He's convinced he's dying.

So we get there and they immediately start IV fluids and pain killers and boy does that loosen up a man who's been on the verge of death and has had nothing to eat in three days.  Then he notices that his doctor is a hot little Brazilian number....and proceeds to turn on the charm like only he can (well, like only he can when he's been given massive amounts of Percocet).  In his drug-induced haze, he's convinced she finds him the hottest thing in a hospital gown to ever grace the paper mattress cover of her ER.

And then she totally bursts his bubble.

She cheerily informs him that they are going to do blood work and cultures and whatnot and "Oh, yes, and we're also going to have to do a rectal exam".

He went from Percocet-induced "Yes, hot doctor lady, I'll do whatever you want me to do because I love painkillers." to "Holy shit balls Batman! You want to put what in where?!?! Not just NO, but HELL NO! I'd rather just die! Surely dying from whatever food poisoning I've got isn't that painful.  In fact, you know what? I'm really feeling so much better! I think I could just recuperate at home...really....and by the way, have you met my girlfriend?" pretty quick.

I'm not sure who was more embarrassed.....me, him or the cute little Brazilian doctor lady.

Monday, September 20, 2010

And that's why I never made it to law school

You may not know this, but I was a political science major in college.

I feel like there's a lot of nodding and "Oooh...that explains it" going on with some of you. 

But yes, you're right, it does make sense that I majored in politics...I'm good at talking....and debating....and just kind of bullshitting in general.  Oh, and my dreams of becoming a hot-shot lobbyist at the state capitol? Meh...I got way more interested in going out than going to law school.

You would think that being a "poli sci" (that's what all us cool cat political science majors called it) major would have influenced me to keep up with the daily goings on in world politics.  Or even state politics.  Or hell, even who's on the board of my kid's school district.

But not so much.

Mainly because? The news nowadays is depressing as hell.

War. Hunger. Hurricanes. Tsunamis. Crooked world leaders. Genocide. Lindsay Lohan peeing dirty. (Seriously?? Is she EVER going to get her shit together???)

And therein lies the other issue....the news now is either A) totally depressing or B) totally pointless and not worth my time.

Case in point? (Sidebar: OMG! That sounded so "lawyerly"! Maybe I really did miss my calling!) Headlines from Yahoo news:

-"Bedbugs Shutdown Nike Store" (ever heard of "foot lice?" *retch* I don't like feet).

-"Comedian Returns to Network She Slammed" (Margaret Cho returns to ABC for DWTS.  Probably not the "grand comeback" she pictured when they pissed her off and cancelled her show, huh??)

-"Michael Vick Wronged After Great Game" (And we care about Michael Vick's feelings because?? Can we maybe hear a comment or two on the dogs Michael Vick wronged??)

-"Mystery of Blue Jeans' Origin" (I can die fulfilled now...I've always wondered who invented blue jeans.  I'm sure it was someone with a sado-masochistic tendency who wanted to punish women for the five pounds gained over the holidays...but I didn't read it.)

-"Snazzy Outfits for Phil and Tiger" (It's really not so much about their golf games as it is their snappy dressing!)

And people wonder why I don't watch the news....or read the newspaper.  I guess if Yahoo news is really my source of current events, I should probably be prepared to not have much to contribute to dinner conversation about Obama's health care reform. 

But hey, did you see what Phil was wearing on the back 9???

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Green Death

I'm sick.  I don't feel good and I certainly don't feel funny.  So I've left you in the oh-so-capable hands of Mr. Leary. 

Enjoy!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The Bucket List

Or as I could have also titled it "I should be working, but it's my birthday and I don't want to so there".

Oh, and there will be no Morgan Freeman or Jack Nicholson or any other endearing curmudgeon making an appearance in this post (Sidebar: Seriously, how awesome is it to use the word "curmudgeon"?? Love it!! Sounds so smartsy!).

Today is my 31st birthday.  And there's just something about birthdays that put one in the reflective mode, yes? Yes.  So I'm reflecting...on my previous 30 years.

Wow.

No wonder I'm tired.

Everyone has their "List of Things I Want to do Before I Die"...or as the movie so cutely put it, "The List of Things I Want to do Before I Kick the Bucket", which I guess is still really long or whatever, so they shortened it to: "The Bucket List", right?

So today, I made one.  And then I realized I had done a lot of the things on it.  How does that happen?!?! I'm not old enough to have done all of these things?!?! What the hell??!?

Don't believe me? Check it out:

-Skydive.
-See Europe.  Wait...
-See the parts of Europe that I really want to revisit (Italy and Spain) while avoiding the parts that were gloomy and cold.
-Party in Vegas. Done that one a couple of times.
-Party in New Orleans. Check.
-Party in general. Check.  Check.  Check.  Check.
-Rodeo. Check.
-Act in a play. Check. (Okay, it was high school, but still....)
-Get a tattoo. Check and check.
-Go to Mardi Gras. (possibly in the plans for this coming February...stay tuned!)
-Sing karaoke. Check.
-Sing karaoke in Vegas. Check.
-Sing karaoke in New Orleans. Check. (Yes, I love the karaoke...don't judge)
-Drink mimosas on Sunday mornings for no reason other than they're fantastic. Double check.
-Go on a cruise.
-Snow ski. I'm not good at it, but I'm going to call this one a Check.
-See at least one Broadway show a year (even if it's off Broadway).  Check.
-Enjoy being single. Check.
-Volunteer with children. Check.
-Get a dog. Triple check.
-Get married. Last time I checked...
-Enjoy being married. Check....mostly.
-Go on dates with my husband. Check.
-Keep in touch with old friends. Check (Still hang out with my friends from high school...and NOT just because of Facebook.)
-Have a kid. Check.
-Enjoy having a kid. Check.
-Take a family vacation to Disney World/Land.
-Start and maintain a blog. Check....oh, and you're welcome.
-Buy a house.

So basically, I have to skydive, go to Italy and Spain, go on a cruise, hit Disney and then buy a house and I'm all good???

Holy shit, dude.  I could die in like 10 years if *this* is all I have left to accomplish.

What's on your Bucket List?? Just curious....tell me in the comments!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Redneck Pillow Talk

You probably don't want to read this.

I know I've said that before and what happens? Most of you just keep right on reading. 

Just know that I am not responsible for you continuing to read.  If you are making that choice on your own, then you have no one to blame for any residual effects other than yourself.  However, if there is a meth-addicted burglar in your house right now and he's holding a gun to your head while demanding all of your cash, jewelry and cigarettes and insisting you read this blog post RIGHT THIS FUCKING INSTANT OR HE'S GOING TO CALL CHRISTOPHER WALKEN TO COME DOWN HERE AND SMITE YOU!, then maybe you're not totally responsible because I happen to agree that Christopher Walken is creepy as hell.  Still.  Consider yourself warned.

So this morning, it's raining.  Which is not new and shocking information because seriously? It's been raining for days....non-stop.  Because of the rain and potential flooding, school was delayed for two hours.

My plan? Sleeping in, doing a load of laundry, making breakfast tacos and running errands on the way to drop off the kid.  My husband's plan? Wednesday morning nookie.

Okay, fine, I can go with that....kind of nice with the rain on the tin roof and whatnot, we're not in a huge rush to get out of the house this morning...sure, cool.

So we're getting all cutesy and laughing and "So why don't you come on over here?" and "No, you come over here" (hey, I warned you.  Stop complaining...at this point, I think you're committed.  And yes, moving across a king-sized bed requires negotiation as to who's doing the moving).

And then he says something to the effect of putting something in my garage.

"Really? Did you really just compare the girly wallet to a garage??? WTF?? Did you have to compare it to something sooo....cavernous and roomy??"

"Well, I am about to park a Peterbilt in it."

And that's when I snorted....which kinda killed the mood.

But I gotta give him points for a quick comeback.

***Redneck dictionary: A "Peterbilt" is an 18-wheeler.  As in "a big f'in truck".  See why I snorted??