So life goes, indeed
Today is Kevin's birthday.
For his gift, his father's genes gave him a kidney stone. And so yesterday afternoon we spent a few hours in the urgent care, him doped up and being pumped full of fluids and me shivering and trying to ignore the monster cramps my uterus decided would be the perfect accompaniment to the whole scenario.
It was odd being on the opposite side of things on this visit to the urgent care. We were at the usua urgent care, the one we went to when I had my staph infection and my broken wrist (oh, and the sprained foot!). In fact, we were even in the same little cube that we were in for the wrist and staph visits. Ah, misty water-colored memories.
Anyway, he managed to pass the stone last night around midnight, but it was still a sucky thing to happen the night before his birthday. Especially considering that his wife has been psychotically overbooked and was not able to go out and get his actual birthday gift. But it was an awesome present even though I just told him about it instead.
In other news, did I mention that my friend talked me into joining the Logistics Committee for the San Diego version of the American Heart Walk? Well, he did, mostly by flattering me and forgetting to tell me that I would have to be there at 3am the morning of the walk. So now I am the Parking Chair and have been spending a lot of time running around to meetings and thinking about how to smoothly transport 10,000 walkers from a parking lot to a start line that is a mile away.
And other than that little obsession, I am getting wrapped up in planning pre-wedding festivities for one
Miss Melissa, because I am taking my maid of honor duties seriously. Theriously, even. So therioulsy, I bought
these sassy shoes to wear under my lovely ballgown. They match the groomsmen's kilts! How awesome am I for finding those? And also, the dress now fits and looks pretty damn hot, I have to say. Only 4 more weeks!
So life goes. Busy, with scads of things to looks forward to.
Proof that working out can be hazardous for your health
So, we rejoined the YMCA last month. Or rather, I rejoined and dragged Kevin along with me because the family that sweats together...gets stinky together, or something. It was a fancy schmancy YMCA when I was a member before but now it's even schmancier. Apparently they got an influx of donations, because not only did they install a second pool and a soccer field, they bought pretty much all brand new cardio equipment.
This of course means that now there are rows upon rows of spanking new LifeFitness ellipticals and bikes and treadmills, all with their own little TV sets and cable. The cable is a nice thing, because we've started working out later at night; we've found that if you go to the gym after 8pm, they are much less likely to yell at you for staying on the machines for an hour.
Last night I decide to hope on the treadmill instead of the elliptical, figuring I should get some walking training in what with the Breast Cancer 3-Day rapidly approaching. And I decided I should go ahead and just watch the Thursday night NBC lineup because hey, familiar and funny, can't lose combination, right?
Except I didn't realize that watching 30 Rock while trying to climb up a "hill" can be hazardous to one's health, since seeing Tina Fey yell "DO THE WORM!" to a castmate made things difficult for me. By the time Alec Baldwin was telling the crab to fight the worm, I was trying desperately to both A) not start laughing loudly like a loon in the middle of the gym and B) not go flying off the treadmill because I was laughing like a loon and fell down.
Thanks the universe for those handrails, is all I gotta say.
Consumer whorism
We've been quite the little consumer whores around here lately. Well, mostly me, but Kevin's participated a bit too.
First there was the necklace. Remember that broken wrist I had? The one that happened on company property so it was a worker's comp case? Well, it turns out that I am now permanently 6% disabled, which meant that last month they sent me a neat little check for a tidy sum of money for my permanent disability settlement. I very sensibly used most of it to pay ff that annoying high interest loan I had taken out for JournalCon, but that still left close to $1000 left of it. So I dumped a bunch into our savings and then I went to Tiffany's as fast as my little car would drive me.
I'd been looking for a new everyday necklace, something classic and silver that could be dressed up and dressed down, a necklace that would be quintessentially me. And I found
this lovely Elsa Peretti piece. I love her work for Tiffany's; it's so fluid and classy and simple. And I am not at all surprised that this is the one I picked out for myself, because I am cheesy enough to see in it the journey I'm on. Fat on one side, gradually thinning out but still connected to the rounded end; that's me. I'll never be detached from my fat self, you know? And it's perfect...it sits at the just right spot on my neck, and it's a heavy, solid piece of jewelery I can wear every day for the rest of my life if I so choose. A good investment, I'd say.
And then there were the phones. Have I mentioned what crappy service we had on our old phones? It was so bad that we had literally no coverage in our apartment. We would get voicemail notifications but we couldn't call our voicemail. The redial button on my phone was the most used one, simply because calls would get dropped all the damn time. And this was from the company that claims to have the fewest dropped calls, no less. So we wandered into the T-Mobile store and they gladly switched us over to their network and sold us some new fancy phones; I of course had to get the Razr that came with the mp3 player in it because...well, because that's the way I roll. And now we can get phone calls in our apartment! And I can talk to people while I'm driving without calls dropping! And oo, we even got the cool Borg headsets!
Anyway, we've now got most of the accessories of young DINKs, but in our neighborhood, they probably figure we're doing something illegal to get everything we've got. Maybe they think we are hired assasins; I hope so, because then maybe it'll make them make their damn kids stop throwing water balloons at our windows.
