PP's sage words of advice...

Once in awhile, it's good to reflect on your life. At other times, it's better to let the past be the past and move on to the future. That's what I'm going to do, because I can't change the things I've done and I've grown enough to realize that all of those things helped make me the person I am today.

SO, I'd like to dish out some of the lessons I've learned and with a little hard work and dedication, you too can move into the realm of "I just dont give a crap what you think!"


1) Women: When faced with the harsh truth that someone just called you a c*nt, say to yourself, "Self, its just a word." Then, promptly hit the jerk over the head with the nearest heavy object. Tried and true tools for this purpose include cast iron skillets, dictionaries and the Bible. You're only limited by your imagination in this situation, so let loose!


2) When you're waiting for results from some sort of medical test to tell you what's wrong with you, ASSUME that its terminal. Use this time to make sure your affairs are in order, do a will, power of attorney, etc. It really helps pass the time while you wait! Write sappy notes to friends and family telling them how much you love them. Start each note with "If anything ever happens to me". That way, when the results finally come in, if it's the dreaded bad news, you can focus on YOU instead of doing all of these things. If it comes back as something else, you can accept your diagnosis with a sigh of relief. Example: Doc: "PP, I'm sorry to tell you, but you have MS." PP: "Far out!! That is most excellent news!" See, because I was expecting the worst, something like MS didnt seem so bad!


3) When you're criticized at work for not doing your job well enough, throw whatever tools of the trade are in front of you at the time (tools, papers, binders, staplers, etc.) to the floor and shout "Let's see you do better with this crap!" Then, storm out of the building/work site/whatever. You may not be welcomed back the next day, however do you really want to work in a place where people criticize you? Win-Win situation!

4) When faced with the possibility that your significant other may be cheating on you, picture this: If it's a woman, picture her cheating with another woman. Men, I promise you, your anger will disappear, even if it's only temporary. Repeat as necessary. If it's a man, picture him cheating with another man. Ladies, I promise you, your anger will turn to disgust and you simply won't want to think about it anymore.

5) Men: using the phrase "I'm not going to answer that question because anything I say will be wrong", realize that your statement is just as wrong as anything else you might say. It's always better to give your honest opinion and take your lumps. It's because of men who wont comment on their womans outfit that we have to see things like this:





I must go now. I need to work on my ark!



PP Out!

Woe is Me

Thought I would try something different. Thought I would take a few moments to talk about my fears. Because if you never share your fears with those you love, they may not understand your reluctance to do some things, your hesitation to act on something seemingly easy or your inability to say "please help me" or even "thanks - I couldn't have done it without you.

My biggest fear is that I may wake up tomorrow and not be able to walk, play, see, talk, whatever. Just losing my ability to do anything would freak me out. Perhaps to the point that if I acknowledge the possibility of that happening, then it will happen. I live believing that it's not going to happen to me because I don't want to think about it. I was at the pool with Josh today and we had so much fun playing and swimming and laughing, and that could all be gone tomorrow. UGH!

I'm also afraid of people thinking I'm weak or that I'm not capable of doing for myself. I'm so afraid of it that I won't ask for help, even when it's offered, for things I think I should be able to do for myself. I'm afraid if my mother in law comes to my house and it hasn't been dusted that she'll frown or think "what a slob" (even tho I know she wouldn't) And I'm so stubborn that I won't ask my husband to help me because it's only dusting! And if I ask for help that means I CAN'T do it, and who on earth can't dust? So, I work myself silly, getting angrier and angrier because people know I won't ask for help, then I'm ready for bed at 6:00 in the evening. And I think what gets me the maddest of all is that when people know I won't ask for help, why can't they just do it? Don't ask me if I need help, because I'll always say no, for fear that they'll think I'm weak.

And I have to get over these fears. When you have MS, you can't just go about your day, business as usual. You have to make choices in everything you do, and if you don't make the right choices, you don't have anything left to do the fun stuff. So, I have to learn to slow down and ask for help.

I just don't want people to feel sorry for me, because I'm not sorry. I'm estatic to still be here, walking around, playing and doing the things I do. I can't imagine what it'll be like when I can't do those things. And it scares the hell out of me. What will a woman who is so proud, so feisty, so pig headded, going to do when she needs someone to put on her shirt for her? I don't know. But I do know this...the friends I have today who stick around for all that fun that's to come, it'll be quite the ride. And I'll appreciate you more than I do now. And I hope if I need to ask you to wipe my butt, you'll do it with a smile. :) Those of you I'm likely to ask know who you are. And yes, I'll expect fries with that...

Things you don't hear every day

So, I've had an eye opening experience - the alarm clock went off. Gawd, that was SOOO bad...

Last night was a bad night with the boy. He wouldn't let me brush his teeth. I told him that if he didn't take care of them, they would all fall out before he turned 3. Have you ever tried to brush the teeth of an almost 3-year old kid who didn't want them brushed? It might be easier to put pants on an octopus who is being crushed by a steamroller! . But, my little hellion child woke up this morning, sweet as can be with a smile and a kiss for mommy. From bad to good in just a few hours.

So anyhow, I have been collecting statements made by various people I work with all week. I collected them because they're things that you just don't hear people say very often. And they're kind of funny... Here for your reading pleasure, THINGS YOU DON'T HEAR EVERY DAY

"I'll be happier when my brother goes back to jail."

"You won't be invited to my funeral. I don't want you there."

"That's like comparing apples and pineapple juice, you just can't do that."

"I was sitting in my office, getting my freak on..."

"Just understand that I'm coming from the point of view that I'm the eagle"

"I don't want a raise."

"I need a roll of masking tape and a plastic ruler - it has to be plastic so I can use it the way I want to."

Do these people have any clue what they're saying? Do they know they sound mentally challenged? Do they care? Or are they afflicted with the stupid saying disease? I dunno, nor do I care. I say my share of stupid crap , but I realize it's stupid the moment it comes out of my mouth. These people never missed a beat and continued right along with their conversations. I dunno, perhaps I'm just a bit too easily amused!

On a happier note, I got to have coffee with my humming bird couple that feeds on my deck. They're getting bolder and bolder and coming closer and closer to me. I wish I knew which was the boy and which was the girl. They did have a mid-air collision the other day, and I was worried about the smaller one. But I saw them both back this morning. I'd like to give them names, but if I name them something trite like "Fred & Ethel" it'll just be giving in to commercialism. SO, I'm taking votes on what to name the humming birds, send me your suggestions! And will someone please tell me how to tell the sex of a hummingbird? I would't want to give the boy a complex by assigning the chick name to him. Then again, maybe they're both the same sex, in which case call George Bush and get him over to my house RIGHT AWAY so he can let them know why they can't get married and have benefits.

PP Out!

They don't write 'em like that anymore

You know, in the 80's, we had GREAT music. Say what you want about it, but it had grace, it had class, it had MEANING. We had some great anthems about being young. Think about that awesome anthem "Youth Gone Wild" by Skid Row:

They call us problem child
We spend our lives on trial
We walk an endless mile
We are the youth gone wild
We stand and we won't fall
We're the one and one for all
The writing's on the wall
We are the youth gone wild

What do kids have today?

Uh huh, this my sh*t
All the girls stomp your feet like this

A few times I've been around that track
So it's not just gonna happen like that
Cause I ain't no hollaback girl
I ain't no hollaback girl
I ain't no hollaback girl
Oooh, this my sh*t, this my sh*t [4x]

Yes, so very meaningful. WTF is a hollaback girl? Not that it's not a good song, I'm just saying things are different today.

Or how about the ballads that were sooo serious and loaded full of messages:

I drive by the homeless sleeping on a cold dark street
Like bodies in an open grave
Underneath the broken old neon sign
That used to read JESUS SAVES
A mile away live the rich folks
And I see how they're living it up
While the poor they eat from hand to mouth
The rich is drinkin' from a golden cup
And it just makes me wonder
Why so many lose, so few win
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise

And compare that to what it would be today:

What happens when you become the main source of her pain?
"Daddy look what I made", Dad's gotta go catch a plane
"Daddy where's Mommy? I can't find Mommy where is she?"
I don't know go play Hailie, baby, your Daddy's busy
Daddy's writing a song, this song ain't gonna write itself
I'll give you one underdog then you gotta swing by yourself
Then turn right around on that song and tell her you love her
And put hands on her mother, who's a spitting image of her
That's Slim Shady, yeah baby, Slim Shady's crazy
Shady made me, but tonight Shady's rocka-by-baby...

NICE!

Now I'm not saying that todays music is bad or not well done by talented people. I enjoy it, I really do. But it's missing something...it's missing meaning relevant to everyone.

On the upside, in the 80's, we didn't know the soul of Joss Stone, the heart of the Wreckers or the wonder that is American Idol.

However, we were able to be "Up all night, sleep all day!" and knew what it meant to "Slide it in, right to the top". We knew what it meant to be a "Blister in the Sun" and that "Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand". But most of all, we knew that "Love is a Battlefield" but when it's "Just Another Manic Monday", you can trudge along knowing "Everyone is Working for the Weekend." And it was all good...

PP's in the house!

What would life be without the Psycho Princess (PP from here on out) rambling on and on about how much it sucks to be her?

First, the good stuff:

My husband, my son, my step son, a few select friends and Dannon Light & Fit Smoothies: Strawberry Kiwi flavor. I truly am very lucky to have these things in my life, and I'm trying desperately not to take them for granted.

Now, some of the suckiness:

1) I somehow got sucked in to being block captain in my neighborhood. While this might normally be an ok thing, after talking to my neighbor (former block captain) I realize that have probably bit off more than I can chew. The neighborhood association captain may be part of the CHDG. Im not sure, but apparently he's very demanding, very bossy and very demeaning of the block captains not doing things exactly the way he wants them done. I've got bad news for him: I'm not a conformist and the first time he gets all prima-donna on me, I'm going to reveal to him that hes messing with the PP and better back the truck up or he may end up with a large sign in his front yard proclaiming that he is the creator of the JUCE sign. Perhaps I could go to the next neighborhood meeting and just shout things like "Giant hairy belly!" when he speaks. Or, tell him that I'd rather have red hot pokers shoved in my eyeballs, and know that for once I said what I meant!

2) I'm tired of having MS. I'm done with it. Today, my legs feel like floam. You know what floam is, right? I dont mean if I touch them they feel like floam. I mean that if you WERE the floam and some mean kid was sticking things in you, THAT is how my legs feel. So, call up Teri Garr and Montel Williams and tell them they can have their MS back, Im really no longer interested. I'm not interested in taking shots any more. I love the name of the medicine I take: Rebif. They should have a new slogan: Rebif: Because being biffed once is never enough.

3) I work with a bunch of freaks, half of which are closet homosexuals. I wish they would just admit it, leave the wives and live it up as the gay men they were meant to be. I think they would be a lot happier, and they'd be much more genuine than what they are now. I know *I* would be a lot happier if they'd get it over with.

And with that, I bid you adieu.

CHDG Vs. Psycho Princess, Round 2

The CHDG Guild is growing. While out at work with my friend , we come across a food cart, painted suspiciously like the CHDG’s main cart. We get closer, and it was unmistakable. There was the sign: “ISAM HOTDOG #1”. Did he move? I altered my normal route to avoid him and here he is! As we get closer, we see it’s not the same cart, nor is it CHDG himself. However, it’s his sign, complete with the misspellings I’ve come to know and love. We’re about a block away from the original CHDG cart, and here is yet another ISAM cart. I have to rethink what the #1 stands for. I originally believed it to mean he had several carts and that this was #1, another might be ISAM HOTDOG #2 and so on.

But, here is a second cart, on the same block, also #1. How could that be? Perhaps there was a CHDG Guild Olympics and he won first place and the honor of naming his cart with the #1 extension.

I realize I can’t worry about these matters as he is branching out, trying to find me as I haven’t walked past him for a few days. After work, I decide to give him a peek at me…

So, I’m walking to my car after work and as you know, I have to walk past CHDG’s original home base. I approach it and I think I’m in the clear. Then, I hear it. He’s hissing at me! I’m sure it’s some CHDG guild magical hex. He keeps hissing, though not like an angry cat – more like a snake. A very big snake. I don’t want him to think he’s intimidating me, so I stop walking and turn around. I look at him and he turns around really quickly like he didn’t want me to catch him hissing at me. I point at him and yell “I’m onto you, clown!” As he begins to turn around to face me, I suddenly become frightened. What if his eyes are glowing? What if he has vampire teeth? What if his pants are falling down again? So, I ran. I ran as fast as I could up to the next corner. I stop to be sure he hasn’t followed me, and to my horror, I’m standing right next to the other ISAM hotdog #1! “AAAAAAHHHHHH!” I yell and keep on running.

I call my friend to tell her that I’m now being hissed at. She doesn’t have time to listen – she’s actually working (which is a big shock to those who know her, but I’ll write about that at some point). So, I get through the Department of Public Safety building and I see all of the news vans parked by the courthouse. (BIG murder trial here going on. It only took them 30 minutes to find the creep guilty, now we’re in the penalty phase.) I wonder if the news cameras would listen to my story about CHDG, thinking if I expose him for what he is, then others will know. And he won’t be able to peddle JUCE anymore. But they won’t listen. They believe that I truly am a psycho princess and their job is to report on the psycho inside the court room. They don’t want to help me. It’s a better story for them if CHDG and the Guild actually succeed in getting me. Isn’t that the way it usually works? No one cares while you’re here, but they’ll report on it when you’re gone – especially if you bite it while swimming, having your limbs crushed by an underwater steamroller, and escape only to be bashed in the head by crab pots - an untimely death for such a nice girl.

As I finally make it safely to my car, I speed through the parking deck. As I look out my window, there in front of me is a cute little car with a license plate that taunts me...

I'm just saying I love you

I have a unique gift. I have the ability to attempt to say something nice to someone and actually insult them. Below, my top 10 best (or worst) choices of words when attempting to pay someone a compliment, show concern or comment on something.

10. To: My husband
Occasion: There was a giant clump of dog hair on the front of his shirt
What I should have said: "You have a giant clump of dog hair on your shirt"
What I actually said: "Giant hairy belly!"

9. To: My sister
Occasion: She got a new hair style. I hadn’t seen her for a couple of months.
What I should have said: When did you get your hair cut and how did you decide on that style? (I really did like it!)
What I actually said: “Why did you do that to your hair?”

8. To: My husband
Occasion: Exchanging cliché’s meant to compliment the other person
What I should have said: “You have a face that could launch 1,000 ships.”
What I actually said: “Your face could stop a freight train.”

7. To: My husband
Occasion: Talking about being married for 6 years
What I should have said: “I love you and I have no interest in anyone else and no reason to look.”
What I actually said: “I’m surprised I haven’t gotten bored with you yet.”

6. To: My friend
Occasion: Her 3 year old daughter just got a hair cut and she asked if I thought it was cute.
What I should have said: “It’s very cute – the page boy haircut works for her.”
What I actually said: “It’s cute – like one of those bowl cuts”

5. To: My sister
Occasion: Her 35th birthday
What I should have said: “You’re only as old as you feel”
What I actually said: “You look as old as you feel”

4. To: My husband
Occasion: He bought me flowers for no reason.
What I should have said: “Thank you, I’m lucky to still have you.”
What I actually said: “You’re lucky you still have me.”

3. To: My son
Occasion: He had “pool toe” on the bottom of his foot from not wearing his pool shoes.
What I should have said: “Oh my, those are some big boo boos!”
What I actually said: “Oh my, those are some big boobies!”

2. To: My husband
Occasion: He hurt his back and couldn’t put something in the attic for me
What I should have said: “I’ll do it honey, I don’t want you to hurt yourself worse.”
What I actually said: “You’re not much use to me with your back like that.”

1. To: My Husband
Occasion: He had a tooth pulled and I was trying to sympathize with his pain.
What I should have said: "I'm sorry your mouth is hurting."
What I actually said: "I'm sorry about your face."

Crazy Hot Dog Guy Vs. Psycho Princess, Round 1

So, I'm walking to my car after work the other day, and I notice creepy hot dog guy (CHDG for short) glaring at me. He's packing up the hot dog cart for the day and I notice he's got a lot of stuff on his price list that he doesn't know how to spell. (see the picture of the infamous sign in my pics section - thans Anonymuse!) I'm thinking "Oh come on! If you're gonna sell it, you gotta spell it right." He's staring me down. Does he know what I'm thinking? Perhaps he belongs to a secret society of creepy hot dog vendors (kind of like the Priory of Scion, but more hot-doggy) and one of them somewhere has heard me talking about the proper way to spell J-U-I-C-E, told him that the Psycho Princess is making fun of him, and now he's got it in for me. I don't know. Perhaps I'm just paranoid.

However, I can tell you this about CHDG: he's really got to learn to keep it in his pants. The other day, I came out of the building and he's facing the sidewalk I'm walking up. I look closer and his pants are falling down, revealing a full-frontal view of him in his tighty-whities (which were really more like baggy-offwhities). He proceeded to pull up his pants and climb into his van. Ew, eww, ewwww! Did I mention EWWWWWWWWW?!?!

Then, just yesterday, I'm walking across the street, well past CHDG and I look up. Here he is, trying to turn left. I'm in the cross walk and it's like a game of cat and mouse. I stop walking, thinking he's going to go zipping through the intersection - he stops - we stare at each other for a minute - I take a step - he creeps forward - I stop - he stops- etc. etc. etc. Finally, I just figure if he wants to run me over, he's going to do it no matter what I'm doing, so I walk. He completes his turn VERY S--L-O-W-L-Y, glaring at me the whole way.

I called my friend and tell her "Look, if they find my body later, just remember creepy hot dog guy." She laughs, almost an evil laugh. "They're not going to find your body" she says and laughs again, sounding more sinister than usual. Then I have a thought...could she be a member of the CHDG guild? Perhaps she's his link to my inner most thoughts about his lack of command of the English language. It's a scary thought, but since she's my only MySpace friend, I'll have to put up with it.

Random complaints

You know, it never ceases to amaze me how we have such double talk in our government. It drives me BATTY! So you know, I got to thinking about how badly our good old US of A is screwed up right now, and I find myself wondering why. Perhaps it's because our elected president (what were you people thinking?!?) has a direct connection to God, I'm sure you've heard that they speak. Anyhow, I thought we had something or other here called division of church and state, basically saying that politics and religion shouldn't mix. And yet, they do in just about every act our current president (come to think of it, MOST presidents) do. What is this crazy woman talking about you ask? Let's talk about the ones that really stand out:

1) Homosexuality. Our wonderful president has pushed and pushed for legislation to make marriage solely between a man and a woman. While I'm all for man-woman relations, I'm also pro man-man relations and woman-woman relations. Not my cup of tea, but since I don't even drink tea, it's a moot point. ANYHOW, let's talk about why opposers think this is wrong. If it's because homosexuality isn't their thing, then they are simply intolerant of those who do not share their beliefs. If it's because homosexuality is wrong because the bible says so, then they are trying to force their religious beliefs on the entire country. As far as I see it, those are the only two objections people can have about it. If Joe and Frank down the road were allowed to get married and cover each other on their health insurance, how exactly does that effect me? Ummm...my premiums are going to rise? News flash: my health insurance premiums have risen every year without Joe and Frank's help, so that's really not going to change anything there. Will it make my marriage any less valid? If it does, then I must not truly love my husband and he mustn’t truly love me. Will it make others not take the sanctity of marriage seriously? Judging by the number of divorces in this country, I don't think the majority of them take it seriously in the first place. Enough about that...NEXT!

2) Stem cell research. A topic near and dear to my heart. Our great president says that creating life to destroy it via research is not ok. Why isn't this ok? Because life is not ours to make or take, it's God's. First of all, if life isn't ours to make, then we'd better rush out and outlaw fertility treatments. We'd better stop copulating without birth control or we run the risk of creating life. Oh wait...but the Catholic church says no to birth control! What to do, what to do?!?! OK, then life isn't ours to take...why do we have the death penalty then that our mighty leader supports. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the death penalty, but I'm also not out there speaking out against stem cells. I want to smack him upside the head with a test tube and say HEY BUDDY, get your religious beliefs away from my personal well being. To him, stem cell research is wrong because it creates "life" and then destroys it. As an aside, this rant goes along with his wanting to outlaw abortion. Same argument. Why is it wrong? Because of his Christian beliefs. Stay away from my uterus and the decisions I make regarding it. I'm whole heartedly in support of creating stem cells to cure people who may have no other options. Like me. Or those with Alzheimers, Parkinsons, Diabetes, etc....all things that potentially can have cures found much quicker if they have a wide variety of stem cells to work on. As an aside, I can mention that if by some strange cosmic happening I were to get pregnant again, I would not be able to keep the baby. I have a wonderful little boy who I struggled to have (Yay fertility treatments! Oh no, I'm probably set to go straight to hell for that one). I have a blood disorder called Factor V Leiden as well, which means I clot way to easily and am on blood thinners for the rest of my life. This makes every day things like shaving my legs a little on the dangerous side. I'd probably be safer bungee jumping. Anyhow, I was willing to risk my life once to have one baby. I'm not willing to risk my son not having a mother (even if she is in a wheelchair due to her MS by the time he graduates from high school). So, I've done everything in my power to be certain there's no pregnancies in my future. But I'm not stupid, it can happen, even if it's just a slight, tiny chance. But, I digress.... So if our president had his way with everything, (including outlawing abortion), he's in effect killing me and everyone in a situation like me. But hey, if you sleep better at night knowing you're pushing to keep sick people sick and get all up in a woman's uterus, I'm glad for you that you have God's blessing.

3) Iraq. Our soldiers over there busting their butts, for what? To bring democracy to a country - cool. To further your christian beliefs that muslims are evil? Not cool. We don't belong there, we never did. But, hey, he said it himself...God told him to invade Iraq. Can't argue with that, can you? So, again, ignoring that whole separation of church and state...way to go W!!!
America is supposedly the land of the free. But what it's turning in to is the land of the free, if you're a white christian who does not tolerate others who are not white christians. It's embarrassing. I could say I'd love to leave here, but I wouldn't. I'd like to stay and try to help make this country what it truly was meant to be. One person alone can't do it, but I can't be the only person who feels this way. And I hope to see the change sometime before the MS takes over and makes me a jellyfish. And I hope it's good. And I hope it's done without violence. And I hope that someday God will reward me with a brand new in-ground swimming pool...
And another thing that gets my goat: people who think they're high and mighty and able to let loose "God's judgment" on the world around them. Last I heard, there hasn't been crowned a new Christ, so I'm thinking these people are just trying to get their opinions to be heard and trying to back them up with a little "testimonial" from the Almighty. I'm sure if he truly exists, he's quite ticked at these people.

I think there's a lot to be said about those who are out trying to save everyone. I'm thinking they are probably miserable in their own lives and are secretly jealous about the lives of others. Of course, I get my share of people trying to show me the light...what they don't understand is that I have seen the light and I'm not interested. Kind of like when you're at K-Mart and there is a blue-light special on motor oil. I don't run over there and get some just because Marge came across the intercom "Attention K-Mart shoppers...". You savers should save yourself a lot of time...open a store. You can announce "saving specials" over the PA system and know that those who are truly interested will come running and those who could care less will go by some tampons and laundry soap and call it a day. What I'm trying to say here is leave me alone. Find some one else who wants to drink your kool-aid, or wear Nike shoes on the trip to the mother ship.

And for goodness sake: ACCEPT THE FACT THAT THE DA VINCI CODE IS A BOOK AND A MOVIE. REALIZE THAT IT'S IN THE "FICTION" CATEGORY. REALIZE THAT MILLIONS OF PEOPLE ENJOY READING THINGS THAT CALL IN TO QUESTION THAT WHICH YOU JUST ASSUME IS RIGHT. And get over yourself...you're no better than me.

DC Traffic - from 7/31/06

Can anyone tell me WTF is going on with 95 South from Washington DC to the IKEA store? They have been doing construction there for at least 8 years, and never open any new bridges, byways, throughways, lanes, Arby's, Five Guys, or a Hard Rock Cafe.

Yesterday, on my drive from Baltimore (which should have taken me a grand total of about 3 hours), I realized the horror that is 95 South. Don't get me wrong, I've always known it to be a pain to get out of DC. However, yesterday I discovered why it's imperative to stop at the rest stops so kindly distributed throughout our country.

I get about 20 miles outside of DC. My 2 1/2 year old son has just fallen asleep (thank god). I've had 3 cups of coffee and 2 bottles of water, peed before I left those I was visiting and suddenly, I have to pee again. I see the rest stop. I'm in a real pickle. I'm not one of those parents content to leave the kid in the car when I go anywhere when it's a pleasant 68 degrees outside, much less the 95 degree heat I was in yesterday. So I say to myself: "Self, he should be up shortly after you make it through Washington. You can wait 30-45 minutes! Suck it up (but not too hard or risk accidental tinkling..."

I get into the outskirts of DC and the nightmare begins. It starts with traffic going from 70 MPH to 45. Then 40...30...20...10...5...STOP...5...7... STOP...10...you get the idea. 45 minutes later, I've gone a whopping 2 freaking miles. Now, the urge to pee really kicks in and I wonder how uncomfortable it would be to just pee all over myself to relieve my aching stomach. I see the sign for Andrews Air Force Base and wonder if I might be able to pull in, get one of our military men or women to sit with my kid while I pee behind the bushes. I say behind the bushes because I'm sure I don't have the correct clearance to use their bathroom, even if I've got a leaking bladder causing little wet circles on the front of my pants.

We creep along at the pace described above and get up on the top of a very tall bridge and stop. I call my friend from my trusty cell phone. "I'm in hell, true hell" I say. "Where are you?" he asks. "On 95 South, just past Andrews AFB". "Oh" he says sympathetically. "Give my regards to Satan."

I look around at the people I'm stuck in traffic with. Most of them are wiggling nervously in their seat. I roll down my window and shout to the guy next to me, "Are you sorry you passed up that rest area in Maryland too?"

"No" he says "I'm afraid of heights and don't like being on this bridge. Besides, I'm a guy, I just peed in my soda bottle." He holds it up to show me.

"Gross!" I say.

I look to my right and see a woman biting her nails. I get her attention and shout, "Missed the rest stop in Maryland?"

"Yes! She yells. Do you think I could hang my butt over the side of the bridge and pee? What do you think is down there?"

"Probably construction workers on their permanent break!" I shout back. "They might get excited and think it's raining. I say go for it!"

She just laughs and her lane of traffic pulls ahead slowly. Then mine catches up. She yells "I've got a thermos of coffee here, you want a cup?"

I just laugh a fake laugh and tell her where she can put her cup of coffee. Offering a suffering woman any liquid is not a nice thing to do. Whore.

It seems like it takes forever, but I finally see the lights of the IKEA store and the traffic is letting up. Now would be a great time to pull over somewhere, pee and get some more coffee. BUT, my kid's still asleep, amazingly. I don't want to wake him up and have to deal with his crankiness in the car for the next 2 hours, so I travel on. Besides, I really don't have to pee anymore, I just have an upset stomach. That's when fate steps in and plays cruel jokes on you. I realize that I have not had a sip of anything to drink for about 4 hours. I'm parched. My son has a sippy cup full of ice water. He won't miss a little sip. As soon as I take that sip, that urge to pee kicks in full force and I think it was backing up into my throat because the water tasted like urine.

I drive on, passing another rest area, determined now to make it home before I wet myself. I'm on a mission. I refuse to stop. "You won't get the best of me!" I yell to my bladder and step on the gas. This wakes up my son. "Mommy! What happened?" he asks. "I missed the rest area and now mommy is racing against Mr. Tinkle honey. Go back to sleep." "I'm thirsty!" he complains. I hand him the sippy cup of water. "I don't like the way it tastes" he says and throws it on the floor. "I didn't either son."

I finally make it home and bust into my house yelling "OUT OF MY WAY" to anyone or anything within 10 feet of me. I finally make it to the toilet, sit down and...nothing. Have you ever held your pee so long that when you finally get to go, you just sit there, holding your stomach, but nothing comes out. I think back to when I was in labor. The fluids sure came out then..."PUSH!" I yell. "BEAR DOWN!!" and finally, the slightest trickle comes out. It immediately eases the discomfort in my stomach, but why won't it come out any faster? "Mommy!! I'm hungry!!" my son yells. "Mommy's having an emergency honey, you'll need to wait!" "Is it Mr. Tinkle?" He asks? "Yes! We're playing hide and seek and he's hiding really well!" "You want me to help you?" he asks. "Nope, Mommy's gotta do this one on her own." Minutes later, the trickling turns into a steady stream and I'm back in business. I must have gone for about 5 minutes straight. My pants sure seemed to have loosened up while I was there. All is right with the world.

As I tuck in my son and say goodnight, he says to me, "Mommy, do you have to go potty?" "No son" I say with a smile. "Are you sure?" he asks. I think about it. Could he be encouraging me to stop at the rest area before I go about the rest of my tasks? I say to myself ”Self, don't miss this opportunity. Learn from your mistakes." I leave my son's room, pause at the bathroom door, thinking about the laundry I need to finish, the lunches I need to pack, the unpacking that needs to be done. I look at the toilet and mutter those four little words... "you don't own me". I didn't go in. I went about my business. Knowing that I can hold it for a really long time when I need to. And I feel a sense of accomplishment. I win - game over.

From another blog site...

I figured I'd add some of my better blogs from other places I've tried it, just in case anyone wants to catch up!

So, over the last week, I’ve been dealing with some horrendous things associated with my health. What's wrong with me? Well, it’s this whole connection I have with Montel Williams. No, I’m not talking about Sylvia Browne! Although I'm fascinated by the possibility that there are truly people who can somehow communicate with the dead, see spirit guides or help others cross over. I hope to someday meet the person who is going to do those things for me when I'm dead and gone, so that they can gain an understanding of my quirky sense of humor and my sarcasm. I'd hate to have them tell my husband "and she never did like it when you bought her that new washer and dryer that she told you she just had to have." (Side note: I LOVE my washer and dryer. I stand and watch them work sometimes, because they’re so cool!) But I digress...

Montel Williams has Multiple Sclerosis and so do I. When it's hot outside, my symptoms get worse and I can't do simple things like tie my shoes (I just don't wear any), type quickly or accurately (whoeewk needdddds tootoo typelei properlyski anyhoooo?), remember what to buy at the store (darn toilet paper! Good thing I've gotten all of those catalogs in the mail lately. JC Penney has never looked so good!) or change my son's diaper without getting my hand covered in poop (Honey, hand me the sporting goods section of the catalog, would you please?)

I read somewhere that I can get my electric bill paid for by my insurance company because for me, air conditioning is necessary health care. Folks with MS have got to stay cool. I wonder if they'll also pay for a jacuzzi tub, an in-ground swimming pool and a yacht (with air conditioning, of course!) Those things would all help me be cool. I wonder if I can convince them it's medically necessary?!?!

I've also been having a problem talking. Don’t get me wrong, I've always screwed up popular sayings such as announcing back in the 80's "Your mamma wears cowboy boots!" or to my husband when exchanging clichés that compliment the other person "your face could stop a freight train." I've also proclaimed that I was "All that and a burger and fries", and tried to be witty one day when asked if I had a match and replied "yeah, your ass and my face." However, I've taken it to a whole new level lately, I just FORGET what I'm trying to say completely, or say really off the wall things, and I attribute it to the heat and my MS. Example: I said to my son the other day "Not right now honey, mommy needs a lobotomy." HUH? Or to my stepson: "Hey, go in the kitchen and get me a Grandma orange.” A WHAT? Or to my husband: "when you stop at the - the - the - you know, place where we get the laundry detergent." "The store?" he asked. "Yeah, the store. I need some ummm... of THOSE THINGS. "

He says "I'm not buying you girlie products."

"NO NO NO! Not THOSE things, those other things that I put in my lunch bag.” He couldn’t figure it out and I couldn't find the words for it either. When he came home I said "did you remember the toilet paper like I asked you to get?"

"You didn't ask for toilet paper, you asked for the things you put in your lunch bag, so I bought you yogurt, applesauce, bananas, milk and plastic forks. You didn’t say toilet paper. "

"Well that’s what I meant to say!" I said defiantly. "Did you bring in the mail?" I ask.

"Yup!" he said. "You got another Victoria’s Secret catalog."

"Great timing. I think I need to go to the bathroom. Gimme that catalog, I want to wipe my butt with that perfect looking woman. I don't like her much anyway."

MS 1 - PsychoPrincess 0

OK, so here's the skinny. I was getting ready for bed last night, and realized I still needed to take my Rebif. For those who aren't familiar with it, Rebif is a shot I give myself 3 times a week to help slow the progression of MS. I take it right before I go to bed, down 4 Tylenol with it and sleep through the majority of side effects: chills, muscle aches, over-all flu like symptoms. I know that I generally have about 3 hours before any of that kicks in, and as long as I do the shot and go to bed, I'm good to go. Not so last night. I did my shot and climbed in bed with my crossword puzzle book. I hadn't even gotten through one puzzle when the muscle aches started. I struggle to describe the way it feels. Imagine you're an octopus, swimming along in the ocean and a steamroller comes along (yes, in my imagination, steam rollers can do quite a large amount of damage while under water. Just go with me here, it's my imagination, not yours). Anyhow, the steam roller rolls over the octopus' tentacles one at a time. Not enough to break them (does an octopus even have bones in his tenticles?) , but just enough to make them feel like they might burst. Are you feeling it? So now you have an octopus with very sore tentacles and a fishing boat comes along and throws a crabpot in the water, hitting the octopus in the head, making his eyes feel as if they are going to pop out of his head. Got it? Great, that's how I'm feeling. THEN, the chills start. Lovely, uncontrollable shaking, teeth chattering, (picture that octopus as a bobble head doll in the cab of a semi truck!). It SOOO SUCKS. In order to calm the shaking, I tense up my muscles, which makes them hurt worse. I finally got to sleep and when I get up this morning, hey, at least I don't have the chills anymore. The pain is still there. And I'm pretty ticked off. It took me 20 minutes just to get out of bed and get dressed this morning. Then, I bent over to put on my shoes and WHAM! crab pot smashing into my head. Lovely. Just lovely. And then I realize, I'm not an octopus - I don't have 8 appendages, I only have 4. Wow, it would really suck to be an octopus with MS. Glad I'm human.

Now, I'm at work and there's a guy here talking about wild monkeys attacking people and the people having to beat the monkeys off with a stick while a girl is being attacked by fire ants. What the hell is that about? And I hear something coming from that room now about an infected big toe. Damn fire ants. He keeps saying "youth camp". I need to find out the name of this camp and keep my kids away from there. I don't want my kid going around getting attacked by wild monkeys and fire ants. Oh my...he just said "I think it would be nicer for us if we did it with another couple or a group." Creepy. I hope he's talking about camp and not "it". I may never know. It's probably better that way. Great, now he's talking about chum. How much more interesting can this day get? I'm going to keep listening for more talk about chum and swimming with barracudas. Maybe he can shed some light on why the hell someone dropped a crab pot on me after running me over with the steam roller.

OK, so here I am, I've finally made it to blogger.com. I've tried other sites including Yahoo 360 and even MySpace. Why? I don't know. Possibly because Tom needed some friends. If you've ever joined MySpace, you know who Tom is, you just don't know how he could allow that hideous picture to be shown to every MySpacer out there. Funny sidenote: the spell checker on Blogger.com wants to change MySpace to "mishaps". How perfectly fitting...

I've decided that MySpace is simply about seeing how many people you can get to add you as their friend. And in general, men want only hot women as friends and women only want hot men as friends. Unless, of course, you already know the person, then you allow them to be your friend because in the real world, they'd crush you if you didn't add them. So, being that I'm happily married, not a place for me.

Yahoo 360 was ok, but I had made some enemies on Yahoo Answers by calling into question things that some people felt was the absolute truth. SO, I figured I'd start over from scratch, post some of my past blogs for a new group of people, see if anyone will foolishly follow me here, or if they were only being kind and reading because I asked them to.

So, I'm hoping to document some of my experiences with MS, blood clotting (or lack thereof), puffiness and water retention, being a mommy, working in a hell hole and life in general as a woman in a house full of males and three very hairy and severely shedding dogs. Has anyone ever shaved a collie before? If so, let me know how it went. I'm tired of living with tumbleweeds made of fur.