midstream...

having the flu as an adult is the pits.  i recently had a flu experience like none other.  the last time i was this sick was on thanksgiving a few years ago.  it was so bad i missed black friday shopping with the girls and i lost 8 pounds in 4 days.  great weight loss program if you don't mind a raw butt from endless crapping and constant heartburn from throwing up repeatedly.  if i had my choice i would rather starve myself and be amped up on diet pills than endure that again.

anyway, this whole thing started on a thursday.  it was my time to bring lunch in for the office.  i made a pesto chicken recipe that i had been wanting to try but didn't want to try out on my kids.  i felt fine when i woke up, but once i got to work i could feel something coming on.  by the time lunch rolled around, i felt like a giant sand worm was trying to climb out of my stomach through my throat.  there was something coming but still trying to wiggle its way to the surface.

the boss man is always very excited for lunch on thursday.  he came bounding down the hall exclaiming "lunch time!"  with a sour look on my face i came out of my office to explain what lunch was and that i wasn't going to be eating it.  the conversation went like this:

me: enjoy.  i'm not eating that.
boss man:  is there something wrong with it?
me: nope, i just can't eat it.
boss man: why?
me:  i will puke if i eat that.
boss man:  are you sure there's nothing wrong with it?
me: no, i just don't feel good.  i don't want to risk it.

feeling brave, the office dished up lunch and headed for the break room.  i joined them, pushed away from the table, holding down the sand worm.  as lunch continued the boss man kept commenting on how my skin was getting paler and lobbing your typical puke jokes across the table at me.  i can't remember any of them now, but i was a good sport and laughed.  towards the end of lunch, i leaped out of my chair and raced down the hall to the restroom.  needless to say i was sent home.

by the time i made it home, i was shaking uncontrollably, my whole entire body hurt, i had the chills, a headache and a fever.  i still hadn't dislodged the sand worm, it was still working its way up my esophagus.  i decided to change out of my work clothes into my cozies.  i realized i had to use the restroom so into my little bathroom i headed.  on my way there the urge to pee was getting stronger, but before i could get there i peed all over myself.

as soon as i started peeing, i was trying to stop midstream, because i wasn't at the potty yet.  however, i couldn't stop.  what the heck?  since when can't i control my bodily functions?  aren't i too young for these types of problems?  i don't want to have to start wearing adult diapers!

so not only do i feel terrible, and getting worse by the moment, but my sand worm is still lodged in my throat, i have a puddle to clean up, and i need to take a shower.  the shower was an awful experience.  i like a super hot shower, but when you feel bad hot showers don't feel good and the water felt like tiny daggers being shot at me.  horrible experience.  so everything is cleaned up, the bathroom and myself, i'm in my cozies and go to lay down.

wouldn't you know it, i have to pee again.  and once again i don't make it to the bathroom.  what in the world kind of sickness is this that you lose bladder control. i am thankful it is just pee and i'm not pooing all over, but seriously this is an embarrassing thing for one to endure.  i get everything cleaned up, again, and call my mom.  for those of you who aren't aware, my mom is a nurse.  i rarely go to the doctor, i opt to call mom first.  i'm also really bad at calling my parents, so they get super excited when i call.

the phone is ringing and mom answers:
mom:  heather!  how are you?
me: ugh. hi mom.  i need nurse mom.
mom: oh okay, what's the matter?
me: i have some sort of flu, but there is a strange side effect.  i have no bladder control and have peed myself twice.
mom: snickering on the other end of the line.  then does it hurt to pee?
me: no.
mom: does it have an odor?
me: uh, no!  i just can't control it.
mom: probably just part of the virus, that should go away.

this really wasn't the best news, but it certainly wasn't terrible news.

over the next couple of days, i tested my abilities by attempting to stop midstream. i was able to make it to the facilities without any mishaps, after my two mishaps, but it took the whole weekend to regain midstream stoppage.  coincidentally by the end of the weekend i was also feeling much, much better.

this was the weirdest flu experience i've ever had.  i never threw up but that sand worm stayed lodged in my throat until my fever went away.  speaking of the fever i had that for two and half days.  the body aches were present for a few days as well as the chills.  and the peeing, well i'm glad that wasn't a lasting side effect.

i should report you...

so this tale happened last year.  i've never been brave enough to post, until now. there will always be sketchy people in the world, whether you meet them in person or virtually.  be smart and trust your instincts.   

as you know, i have had some crazy experiences when it comes to dating, whether it be online or a by chance meeting.  however, none so unsettling or eye opening as this.  i had stopped the process of actively looking to date, it is an exhausting process and frankly i don't have the time to put that much effort in to it.  so, i had once again canceled my subscription and was letting it run out, when i received an email.

the email was really nice, which prompted me to check out this man's profile.  on virtual paper, it seemed as if this man had been dealt a rough hand, but was ready to rejoin the masses.  according to his profile, he is a widow, has a young daughter, and is just getting his toes wet attempting to date.  i responded.

we exchanged a few emails within the site email system and then exchanged personal emails.  at the time when we exchanged personal emails, he said he was leaving the country to attend to some family issues overseas, pertaining to his parents.  he said he would be gone for a couple of weeks, but wanted to keep in touch.  i didn't expect to hear much from him, but devoured any email he sent.

about a week into his stay overseas, i started noticing some inconsistencies.  the time frames weren't adding up, he would repeat things to me as if he was telling me for the first time, and he wasn't answering any questions i asked.  i was chalking it up to two strangers communicating through email and that it would be different in person.  being able to see physical expressions, hear their voice and stop when something didn't make sense for clarification, usually lends itself to clearer conversations.

every email he sent, which was daily, was very heartfelt.  he would talk about how much he missed his daughter and how he couldn't wait to get back to finally meet me.  i will admit that he was saying all the right things.

then came an email that really sent up a red flag.  he asked me if i had canceled my subscription because he was confident that we were going to be great together and he didn't want me communicating with other men.  i immediately fired back an email that said, although i had canceled my subscription, it had nothing to do with him and if this is his position about the woman he has in his life i wasn't interested.  he responded right away, saying he was joking, backtracking, trying to smooth things over.  i wasn't convinced.

we are now several weeks into his trip that was only supposed to be two at the longest, when i received another email.  this one was really strange, "i need to talk to you tonight, i have a favor i need to ask you that i can't disclose over email."  i read it a couple of times just to make sure i was reading it correctly.  i replied that i found the content of the email sketchy. he countered with a story of how he needed money to finalize whatever he was doing and didn't know how he was going to come up with it.  then came the request, "can you lend me $$$?"

my body was covered in goose bumps.  oh my word, this person, who has shared so much, is running a scam.  does he really think i am that stupid that i would send a complete stranger money?

for one, i didn't have the money that he was asking for.  two, i wouldn't send it to him even if i had it.  i found the request to be grossly inappropriate.  i am a stranger to this human, we haven't met or talked on the phone.  the only contact i have had up to this point, was email, and as you read i was already skeptical. 

he asked me one more time, for a lesser amount, stating that he had come up with some of it and could really use my help.  he said, he would be back in two days and would return the money upon returning the states.  i again said no.  he completely disappeared.  i contacted him one last time, which turned into a threat by him that if i shared any of this publicly he would sue me, for what i'm not sure.

i am tempted to disclose the information that i have about this person, but for all i know the contact info is completely false.  i did keep all the emails that he sent, one because i am too lazy to delete them, but once the red flags starting flying, it seemed important to do so.  

near death experience...

you know that old saying, careful what you wish for?  i had said, nothing exciting is happening in my life right now, well i am definitely eating those words.  it seems like i am on a collision course for a set of three potentially dangerous happenings.  if you recall i caught my arm on fire last week.  in order to protect myself, my daughter, and my home i have thrown away the cursed curling iron and my beloved old pink robe.

i had a fairly uneventful weekend, some family time, a little friend time, a couple of good runs, oh and i am almost died.  no joke.  i'm not even exaggerating.  i do that sometimes, but this event, this near death experience was literally the most scared i have ever been and my entire life flashed before my eyes.  along with two scenarios of how the event was going to end.

my latest "adventure" has to do with my car.  there is a ton of technical car talk, that frankly i don't know and really don't care to know, so you will just have to bare with my layman's words.  anyway, i had gone out for a run on saturday, but my running app crapped out half way through my run, so i have no idea how far i went. seeing as sunday was a rest day, i thought i would go walk the run i did to see if i could (1) get my app to work and (2) see how far i ran.  with my plan hatched, i jumped into my car and took off down the road.

she, i refer to my car as a she, started up just fine.  a nice purr coming from the engine.  i turned out of my driveway and headed south on a super sketchy stretch of road.  in the last few years there has been numerous accidents, some fatal, and a vast variety of humans walk this stretch of road.  hopefully you are getting that this is a busy road, with not only foot traffic but lots of cars that don't always drive safely. it wasn't long after i turned onto the road that something happened.

i had my foot on the gas pedal, just as one would do when they are accelerating in traffic, but i noticed that my engine was revving higher than normal and my speed was increasing.  i took my foot off the gas pedal yet my car was still accelerating. that is when i started to panic and stepped on the brake, which wasn't doing anything.  despite stepping on the brake i was still accelerating.  i'm sure beads of sweat were running off my forehead and i was undoubtedly pitting out.  up ahead of me was a very busy, kind of confusing intersection and i could see it was full of cars.

so i mentioned two scenarios...

the first involved me not being able to stop and plowing through the dozens of cars ahead of me into the gas station on the other side of the intersection.  not only would i have killed myself, but i definitely would have injured many other motorists just out on a sunday evening.

the second involved my car bursting in a spectacular hollywood explosion and my charred body recovered strapped in my seat with a permanent look of terror on my face.  at this point the engine was revved out, meaning the needle was all the way on the right in the red zone.  i've never heard my car sound that way before.  i thought if i can't shut this off it will most likely explode, which would mean imminent death for me.

both scenarios scared the crap out me

and to be honest

i really wasn't ready to die in a car crash

everything happened so fast and i was in a serious state of panic, i'm still not sure how i got stopped.  i remember standing on my brakes, listening to the engine continue to rev and feeling the car trying to obey the brakes but wanting to race freely.  somehow i managed to get stopped enough to put my car in park and shut it off.  a whole lot of awful screeching and grinding noises came from under the hood, but at that point i didn't give two hoots, i had averted death, screech away. 

i called the only person i knew to be home, my ex.  i could tell when he answered the phone he thought i was just being a hysterical girl and that i was probably exaggerating just a little bit.  he asked me a couple of questions:

him: have you tried turning it back on?

me: heck no! i'm afraid to do so.

him: just turn it on.

me: the brakes aren't working what if i lurch into a building or something?

him: put it in park, it won't go anywhere and turn it on.

me: okay.  i hold my breath and turn it on, the sounds of an angry beast being held captive released from under the hood.

him: what happened?

me: it revved out and i didn't even touch a pedal.  can't you hear that?

him: not over the phone, just stay put i will be there in a minute.

sure enough he came to my rescue, sitting on the side of the road haphazardly parked.  he started asking me more things, and i just said "try it, turn on the car."  so he turned it on, the beast screamed wildly, and he quickly turned it off.  "holy crap, that is scary!"  i shrugged my shoulders, rolled my eyes and gave the i was trying to tell you look.

here comes the technical car lingo that i don't know.  turns out there was a small piece of plastic that was keeping the throttle valve open.  i have no idea how a small piece of plastic found its way inside the black tubing, but somehow it did.  the valve was propped open just like when nemo put a rock in the fan to stop the suction so he could wiggle his way through the tube back into the tank. 

good news...i didn't die.  i didn't harm anyone else.  the problem has been fixed and life carries on as i know it.

bad news...this is only number two.  so far i've had arm on fire and almost fire-y car crash.  not sure what else the world has in store for me, but i will be more than ready to be done with this series of three "adventures".

up in flames...

just last week i had said nothing exciting has been happening in my life.  i'm not sure if my mishap this morning really qualifies as "exciting", but it was definitely something.  for those of you who know me pretty well, you know i have an irrational fear of fires.  well, today marks my first experience with being on fire! exciting or sheer horror?  let's get on with the story and find out, shall we?

my summer schedule allows me to sleep in and enjoy a very leisurely morning prior to work.  with all my extra time i can actually iron my clothes, with my badass rowenta iron, instead of fluffing them in the dryer.  i even have time to get fancy with my hair; curl it or pull it up, only to get pissed off that it isn't working and wear it straight down like i normally do.  this morning i decided to iron my jacket and curl my hair.  however, the universe had a completely different idea for me.

my morning cup of joe tasted perfect.  shower went off without a hitch; no razor nicks or soap in my eye.  i had a plan for my outfit, which generally takes me a long time to figure out.  my make up went on smoothly and i was feeling fab about my morning so far.  got my locks blown out and instead of plugging in my flat iron and rocking the silky smooth mane, i plugged in my 2 1/2 inch barrel curling iron to try my hand at loose playful curls.

before i go on with the curling iron stuff, i should set the scene of my bathroom. you may remember from my previous story, my bathroom also houses my laundering machines, my cat's stuff, a toilet and a sink, oh and that nasty scale is in there too.  i set up my ironing board in front of the washer and dryer.  my jacket is draped over the ironing board and the iron is heating up at the other end of the ironing board.  i'm standing in front of my sink, because that is where the mirror is with my hair sectioned off, ready to start curling.

i grab my first chunk of hair, wind it up in the iron, let it sit for a moment then release.  ah yes, the hair is curling nicely, i think my hair might actually work out today.  i work my way around the back of my head and everything is still going swell.  i come the last chunk of hair and this is where my mishap takes place.

i grab the last chunk, bring the iron up to my hair and hear a pop.  i look to where the noise came from, which is towards the outlet my two irons are plugged in and notice that the sleeve of my robe is on fire!  from my wrist to my elbow i'm up in flames.

remember stop, drop and roll?  well that doesn't even enter my mind.  i throw my curling iron across the room towards the dryer and start flapping my arm up and down like i'm learning how to use wings for the first time.  in addition to frantically flapping my arm around, i am trying like hell to get out of my robe. usually i play this game with my robe on how long it will stay tied so i don't end up flashing myself in the mirror, but at this moment the tie seemed to be cemented closed, i was tugging and pulling, but it wasn't budging.

turns out i didn't need to remove my robe.  the frantic flapping of my arm did the trick and i successfully put out the fire.  i have no idea how my sleeve caught on fire, i didn't see that happen, just heard the pop.  my ugly pink robe now has one  black sleeve and smells terrible.  guess i will need a new one.

if i'm going to be honest, starting my monday with a fire was a little more excitement than i really needed.  to make my monday even better, i never got my jacket ironed which meant plan b for my outfit.  and i ended up with straight hair because i didn't trust my curling iron. happy monday y'all.

140.4...

numbers...they are the devil.  we shouldn't look at numbers on clothing tags, numbers on scales, numbers that represent our age, or numbers that tell us how far we have gone and how fast we got there.  we just shouldn't look at them, but i'm sure you still look.  i still look.  those darn numbers taunt me.

my scale.  i have shared this story many times, but it might be worth sharing it again.  one of my very favorite families and best friends moved out of the country four years ago.  my dear friends divvied out their belongings between their friends, family and a storage unit.  i have been housing a few things: kitchen table and chairs, two dressers, a cabinet-y thing-a-ma-bob, an ironing board, a few pieces of artwork, a "jetski", and the scale.

this is a fancy schmancy scale.  it is programmable, digital, tells you other things besides your weight and is kind of fashionable in a "i'm either going to make you hate yourself or love yourself" kind of way.  the scale was programmed for the man of the household and i've never been able to figure out how to change that, but frank whenever you're ready your scale still knows you.  if i remember, i jump on the scale using the "guest" feature, although i hardly consider myself a guest.  this feature makes you manually enter your age, gender and height.

i store this scale in my bathroom.  that seems like a standard place to keep it.  it lurks under a rolling cart that houses other bathroom appliances such as flat irons, curling irons, clothes irons and other things of that nature, that never talk back or purposely make me cringe.  the scale is typically shoved under the cart as far back as i can push it because even just the edge of it makes me cringe and i'm rarely satisfied with my results when using it.

for some unknown reason i decided to pull the scale out today.  now i'm a fairly clean person but my hair falls out daily, i shed like a great dane, and for some reason my bathroom is pretty dusty.  it might be because it also houses my laundering machines and my cat, oscar, shares this space with me. what i'm getting at, is when i stuck my hand underneath the cart and pulled the scale out it looked like it was wearing a sweater.  a sweater made from my hair, dust and probably some oscar hair.  gross!

after a quick dusting, because i don't need any extra help putting numbers up on the screen, it was time to set up the scale for a "guest".   i enter in all the pertinent information: 38, female, 5'8" and prepare myself for what might be coming.  to get the most accurate reading possible, i step out of my tired pink slippers and shed my oversize uglier than ugly pink robe, and take a deep breath.

ugh! that is my actual reading, this morning, thursday, june 26th. 

my first reaction is "lies! you are a filthy liar!" there is no way that the digital print out is correct.  my clothes still reasonably fit like they always have.  some of my summer clothes don't quite button, but those have always been "end of summer" clothes, i've still got time.  140.4!  i quickly get off the scale before it gives the rest of my reading that i don't even want to see (imminent death if you start exercising soon).

i've mentioned my winter ass a few times and have vowed to do something about it.  are you ready?  i have committed myself to three events that will definitely help in transforming my winter ass.  in october i will, now i said i was going to do this last year and ended up not doing, but this year i am running a 1/2 marathon.  i've also committed to running a full marathon in june.  the biggest motivator of all, i promised my sister i would ride naked in the solstice day parade with her next year.  time to get the jiggly bits a little less jiggly!

depends & pull-ups...

when you are in the dating scene, and still of child bearing age, the question of do you want more kids? comes up a lot.  this is a question that i hate answering.  i have a very well thought out, definite answer...

i do NOT want to birth anymore children that i have to keep. 

at this point in my life i am not looking for a potential parent for the children that i currently have or future children that i don't ever intend on having.  i am wanting a partner for me.  someone to share my life with. call it selfish, but my children are almost teens and in the homestretch of being under my constant care, it is time for me to invest my time with someone who is going to be there when my children are out of the house. besides my selfish need of wanting a man for me, and not for my kids, i have four pretty solid reasons on why i'm good with the children i have. 

my age.  i am on a slippery slope into 40.  this may not seem like a huge deal, there are plenty of women who have children in their 40's, but i don't want to be one of them.  i don't want to have to wait until i'm 60 before my flock has flown the coop.  every year i seem to feel more exhausted, more run down and require heavier dose of coffee to supplement my existence.  i can't imagine getting up every two hours to feed a newborn, or schlepping around 30 pounds of crap everywhere until they are of school age, or finding the patience to potty train, deal with teens, or trying to keep up with the twenty something moms at the play ground.  i'm sorry, but if i'm in depends and my toddler is in pull-ups i will cry. 

money.  raising children is crazy expensive, there is no denying that.  it is likely that any man i decide to link my life with will already have children of his own.  two seems to be a popular number, so we will most likely have four kids between us already.  that is a lot of people to take care of: weddings, college educations, clothing and feeding them.  to add another one in there makes my head spin and seems financially irresponsible in this day and age.  as a single mom who is by no means wealthy, supporting my two ratchets is a big task in and of itself. 

risk.  nobody goes into marriage and having kids thinking i can't until we are divorced, raising our kids in separate homes with different rules and splitting visitation. if you think that, please, please don't get married or have kids.  having an ex-husband when you have kids is still like having a husband.  i still have to coordinate schedules with him and talk to him about the kids, this is something that is never going to go away.  statistics show that second marriages have less of a success rate than first marriages do.  so here we go, i get married again, have a child with that man, we get divorced and now i have to coordinate my life and my kid's lives with two ex-husbands.  i already have a hard enough time managing a schedule with one ex, i really don't want to have to juggle birthdays, holidays, weekends, summer vacations, etc. with two ex-husbands.  i would rather have my teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. 

love.  i don't ever want my kids to feel like i am replacing them with a new shiny kid.  stick with me for a minute.  i remember what it is like to have a baby.  you gush and swoon all over that little thing.  so then my kids, and his kids, are going to see us fawning over this new baby that we've made from our love for each other.  i don't think i would intentionally treat my kids, or his kids differently, but i know for a time that my focus would shift from my kids to this new shiny kid who need,s and should have, my undivided attention. i'm not sure if this makes any sense, but in my head it makes perfect sense.

sometimes real grown up problems are a drag.  i recently met a man that i like, but he wants more kids.  it is unfair for me to expect him to change his mind, just like it is unfair for me to change my mind and honestly a few years ago, i was more open to the idea, but at this point it is a deal breaker for me.  

in the line of fire...

i'm catching a little heat about having some "must-haves" in a potential partner. part of me understands the firing squad and the other part wants to say, you are full of shit if you claim you don't have a list or standard!!  i think the heat stems from the usage of "must-haves".  listing my must-haves makes it seem like i am limiting my options to a specific group of individuals.  but i would challenge you to prove that you don't have a list, whether you want to focus on the "must-haves" or the "deal breakers", i'm going to bet that everyone has a list of things that they can live with, can't live with, and will consider on a case by case basis.

when you are looking at linking your life with another human, hopefully forever, it seems to me that having some traits or qualities that are important to you should factor in.  these factors are my must-haves, and this point seems to have been missed, but my must-haves don't revolve around physical traits. and although you may not want to admit it, physical attraction does play into the mix.  it may not be the number one thing you focus on, but it definitely factors in.

so let's break this down a little further, wants vs. must-haves.

wants:  to me this is a list of general things that turn you on.  for instance, blue eyes.  i love blue eyes.  i always wanted blue eyes, i was born with hazel.  i would love the privilege of gazing into blue eyes every day.  is this something that i have to have?  absolutely not.  more important than the color of his eyes, is how he looks at me with those eyes.  a brown eyed fella who can look at me with love, respect, and passion will win me over as opposed to the gorgeous blue eyes that express nothing.

must-have:  to me this a quality about that person i find valuable.  for instance, being active - no couch potatoes.  this is a requirement.  i like to do things: hike, run, play sports, explore my community, go to shows, etc.  if the only thing you want to do is sit at home to watch movies and/or play video games the likelihood of us being a compatible match is not so great.  if we don't enjoy doing some of the same things together, then i will be out doing those things with someone else and probably creating a connection with them.  maintaining, let alone strengthening, a connection with someone who i don't interact with would be tough.

this brings me to connections.  connections happen whether we want them to or not.  am i so narrow minded to think my ideal connection is going to come packaged a certain way?  no.  do i  naturally gravitate to a certain look?  yes.  i bet if you really analyzed who you've been most attracted to, you will notice you also have a pattern.  that is because it's natural, we are simply hard wired to look for certain things.  however, that isn't the only deciding factor, not for me, and i'm guessing not for anyone else.  have you ever met someone you thought was a knock out, but they opened their mouth and you instantly found them disgusting? i have. on the flip side, i've met people who don't make me swoon, but the way they carry themselves and the conversations we have, make them far more attractive than i initially thought.

at the end of the day, i don't think it is unreasonable to want certain things from a potential life partner.  if we have no idea about what we value in another person there is no place to start.