I Think There May Be Something Seriously Wrong With Me

New Year's Eve 2007

The really good thing about being on vacation during the holidays is the fact that I don't have to make or keep New Year's Eve plans. I think my lack of desire to do anything fun and fantabulous for NYE is a sign of old age. Maybe not. New Year's Eve to me is almost always a pain in the ass. The right plans, the right outfit, the right guy to kiss, etc. etc. etc. One year it was all too much for me and this happened. Not one of my finer moments but I know for a fact it was all brought on by stress. Stress over having THE perfect New Year's Eve and stress over ending an engagement that never should have been. Thank god I can just sit around in my pjammies tonight and not worry about anything. WHEW!!!!!!

I hope all of you have a wonderful New Year's Eve and a very happy and prosperous 2008. Hopefully I will get my writing mojo back and there will be bigger and better posts to entertain you.

Holidays

I'm not a big one for holidays. Perhaps this is because I like a lot of "me" time. I'm one of those people that needs time by herself to just be. To just be happy or sad or bitchy or tired or whatever. Just be. Holidays seem to be a time when you can never be alone. Being alone is important to me. However, I actually made it through this holiday relatively unscathed. So did the people around me which is a bit shocking. There is usually some big family blow-up when we are all together. (Well Little Brother and I did get into an argument which ended with him screaming "Just shut the fuck up" and me throwing myself on my bed in a dramatic manner and exclaiming "I"m going home right the fuck now" but other than that things were pretty calm.)

I have been sick since I set foot in the state of Florida. This has not fostered any holiday cheer in me. I was struck with a severe asthma attack the night I got here. Severe enough to go to the emergency room. I've been icky ever since and on steroids yet I killed no one during the holiday. This is progress. Trust me it is. Especially since I've been in a house with two cats (I think my mom hates me), a dog, my mom, The SAM, Little Brother, and one set of grandparents. That combination alone is a prescription for murder but with me on steroids it's a Christmas miracle no one was killed or at the very least terribly maimed.

As much as I bitch I am glad we were all together. My grandparents are getting old and it was nice for all of us to be together. I feel lucky to have been blessed with the family I have. I hope all of you had a great holiday and feel as blessed as I do.

The Tables Have Turned

Twenty-five is not 25. He's 23. TWENTY-THREE!

I've been meaning to tell you this but I only found out Wednesday evening and then I left Thursday.

When we were just in the flirting stage of whatever we are doing he did something a bit juvenile and I made the comment, "What are you like 12?" He responded he was 25. That is why I thought he was 25. I didn't assume he was 25 or guess or anything. He told me he was 25.

Wednesday night at dinner we were discussing how he went to school in Alabama for his first two years of college. The same school in Alabama that Little Brother attended. (Little Brother and I have different last names. This is important.)

L: You went to {School in Alabama}? Were you a {Rather Big Frat} there too?

25: Yeah I was.

L: Did you happen to know Little Brother?

25: Yeah but he's a couple of years older than me. (Obviously dude isn't too quick on his feet.)

L: He isn't older than you.

25: confused look on his face

L: Oh My God! You aren't 25! Little Brother is my little brother!

25: I didn't think you would go out with me if I was that much younger than you.

L: Oh sweetie if you only knew the half of it.

So Twenty-five is 23. I also came to the realization that I made out with someone who is my brother's age. Not sure if I can handle that situation.

My Future Husband

It's quite possible I met my future husband on the {City Withheld} to Atlanta portion of my flight on Thursday. I upgraded my boobs to first class because I felt they deserved it after what they've been through. (Actually only the right one deserved to be upgraded but they are sort of a matched pair.) My future husband was my seat mate. He is 3 years younger than me. (Younger is always a plus in my book.) He's tall. Born and bred in Atlanta. Schooled in Alabama. He is quite handsome and quite charming. He is funny and intelligent. He is a little too attached to his Blackberry but maybe he could be weaned. And he owns a boat. A big boat. I'm pretty sure I am in love lust.

PS It seems like a few people have been trying to get in touch with me through Yahoo Messenger. I'm on vacation and don't have either chat app. at my disposal. (Long story.) Just email me. :)

Coolest Thing Ever

Yesterday I went to the boob doctor.  He poked and prodded my boob while making jokes the whole time.  My Boob Oncologist is the best doctor ever.  This is the one who hummed the theme to Hawaii 5-O when I went to see him last year.  He came and asked why I was there.  I said, "I have a boob problem!"  He said, "Well that's completely unacceptable."  I think I love him.

Anyway he decided to go ahead and biopsy the thing in my boob instead of making me wait until January.  I got to watch the whole thing on the ultrasound.  Actually I had my eyes squinched shut but he made me look.  He stuck a big, scary needle in there and the spot (which was huge) disappeared before my eyes.  IT WAS AWESOME! 

I'm not going to get into the really icky details but my boob is fine.  I have to go back and have it checked in January but the doc said it wasn't anything to worry about.  I asked why I keep getting these thing sin my boobs and he said it was hormonal fluctuations.  Imagine that, my hormones being in flux.  I never would have thought it.  (HA!)

So there you go.  Y'all thinking about my boobs helped.  Thanks!

ps  I'm on Facebook if anyone wants to be my friend. 

Kissy Kissy

There was kissing.  There will be a second date on Wednesday.  And that's all the details y'all are getting.  Miss Kissy Kiss-A-Lots is leaving for vacation Thursday.  Posting will be sporadic between now and January 11th.  (Maybe twice a week.)  Happy Holidays!

PS  Boob Oncologist tomorrow.  Please keep my boob(s) in your thoughts.  ; )

Um Maybe This Date Thing Isn't Such A Good Idea

Twenty-five thinks I'm twenty-nine.  Obviously I'm not. 

How do I know he thinks I'm twenty-nine?  One of his friends asked me if I knew "Hailey Years Younger Than Me".  I didn't know this person.  Friend said, "Well Twenty-five said you went to {name of my small sized high school} and Hailey is your age."  Cautiously I asked what year Hailey graduated.  Yeah, not the year I graduated.  Not even really close to the year I graduated.  I mean both years have a 19 on the front but that's where the similarity ends.  And that's how I figured out Twenty-five thinks I'm twenty-nine.

So now I have to figure out how to tell him the truth.  "Hey you know how you think I'm four years older than you?  Yeah, not so much.  I'm actually mumble mumble mumble years older than you.  Cool right?"

Now as I said before I do not think Twenty-five is a candidate for "happily ever after."  (OK I didn't actually say that but I implied the sentiment.)  Hell I'm not even sure he's a candidate for more than a few dates.  However, he is on my holiday wish list.  But I have to tell him how old I am, right?  It's the right thing to do.  Right?

Of course, we are going out Saturday night and then I'm leaving for a month on Thursday so...

Meltdown

I just had a complete meltdown at the vaginacologist's.  I'm positive they will never let me back in there again.

Let's just say that it involved them telling me I'm not covered on my new insurance, my screaming "how is it possible that mammograms aren't covered but Viagra sure as shit is?", the billing clerk talking to my insurance office on MY cell phone, a fire alarm going off just as I was getting naked, and when I said "I need a Xanax" my very funny vaginacologist answered with "Right this second?" which I thought was completely awesome.

The bad news is they are sending me to a Breast Surgical Oncologist on Tuesday instead of waiting until January.  This does not mean I have cancer.  (This does not mean I have cancer.  This does not mean I have cancer.  This does not mean I have cancer.)  This is the same guy they sent me to last year with my left boob and that wasn't cancer so this isn't either.

One last note, I want you to try to picture me butt ass naked except for socks when the fire alarm went off.  TOTALLY AWESOME AWESOMENESS!  Seriously.

Boobs & Boy

Boobs

After a six hour ordeal which included an ultrasound, a mammogram with bb's stuck to my boob, and another ultrasound, I am scheduled for a needle biopsy when I get back from Florida.  The doctor wanted to do it the week of December 10.  For various reasons, I am waiting until I return from Florida but the doctor did say it was OK so I really doubt there is anything super wrong with my boob.

Boy

Twenty-five asked me out for this past Friday.  I declined because I knew I would be exhausted after visiting the boob doctor.  (I do have experience with how frustrating the boob doctor office is.)  He understood and also wanted to know if there was anything he could do for me or my boobs.  (Cheesy but I kinda liked it.)  We are going out Saturday night.