Wow. It’s quiet in here…
Which is odd, as I just woke up from a dream in which the Dalai Lama actually asked me to leave his four star resort/meditation monastery because I could not stop talking during meditation. In my dream it was a terrible misunderstanding, as we were in the midst of a releasing excercise and one of those old highschool mama’s boys (you know the ones) burst into tears because he said I was standing on the fake grave he’d imagined for his mother, who hadn’t died yet. I tried to explain that it was unintentional, but mammas boy wouldn’t listen to reason. I also tried to explain that it was a fake invisible grave, so how the hell would I know where he put it but the D.L. told me I was being disruptive and asked me to go. He was very nice about it. But still. I then went to find hubby to get him to pack up, and as it turns out, he had found a new friend and was in the attached sports bar watching the hockey game. I tell you, that is some fancy Buddhist retreat. I should really be the business manager for the Buddhists. Ideas, my friend, ideas.
So in the past while, I’ve been trying to lose some weight. It’s not that I’m big, but if I don’t change my habits now, this winter I’ll be giving Santa a run for his money. As I’ve always burned most of what I’ve eaten, this whole weight gain and loss thing is a flipping mystery to me. I really feel for people who struggle with this their whole lives. But I’ve started eating way too much. To combat this, I am eating a lot of Middle Eastern food, things like couscous, dal, and humus. Yes, my friends, I reek of garlic and onion! Can you smell me over there? My hubby keeps asking if I have any gum. And I keep trying to neck with him. S’fun.
I’ve also started taking a fiber supplement that its supposed to fill you up. It also cleans out every dark, forgotten corner of your bowel, which is okay, because I’m a bit of a neat freak. But it has an unfortunate side effect of producing extremely loud gas. With every step you take. While it is not malodorous, it is going to be a bit inconvenient. Today, in turn, I have made the small dog bark, the big dog look at me and ask “Is that gunfire?”, and I also managed to make the cat stop his frantic licking of his non-existent balls (they’ve been gone 3 years! Give it up, already!), and with his tongue still hanging out, he looked at me and said “Good God, Woman! Was that you?” I generally don’t enjoy flatulence, and I try to avoid it at all costs. But this… this could be fun! It’s like having my own personal stock of chinese firecrackers up my ass! I think I’ll try to punctuate everything I say to my family with a nice loud bang.
I’ve also had an unwanted guest for about the last month. I have a clogged tear duct that has taken on a life of its own. Honestly, this thing has started to grow arms and even a mouth. It’s been talking to me in the middle of the night. “Hey. How you doing?” “Okay. Could you leave now?” “Nooooo. I like it here. Shhhh. Go back to sleep. Dream of the Dalai Lama. Shhhhh… Lullaby and good nite…”Oddly enough, it sounds an awful lot like William Shatner. While I love the Shat and his velvet voice, I think maybe I’ve been listening to his new cd too much. That is courtesy of my dear hubby, who puts it on, giggles and sings/talks right along with it. Obviously, neither of us has a life.
I went to my physician after not being able to get it to go away on my own. “Hmmm…” he said.
“Can I poke at it?”
I quote directly:”Come on, let me poke at it! Don’t be a baby!”
I let him poke at it. No one calls me a baby! I even held the lighty thingy for him. Would it be okay to tell you that it hurt like a BITCH when he was done. And nothing happened. So with a “Thanks, asshole” on my part, he’s decided to send me to a opthamologist. Tomorrow. I’m a bit sad to see Eye Shat go, as we’ve built a bit of a relationship. But I’d like to be able to wear mascara again at Christmas.
Hubby asked me how I’d feel if I had to wear an eye patch. I told him I would then get to pretend I was a pirate. And I would talk like one all. the. time.
Arrrr, matey. A gassy,windy pirate with my own built-in cannon sounds. I think I have my Halloween costume ready for next year! Squeal!
Wish me luck.