The Time I Got a Flea Infestation. Or Lice. It was one of the Two.

Seeing as parts of this past year/decade have been teh suck and some have been good, I will spare you the trouble of reading an end-of-an-era posting.

Instead, we will discuss the time I got some kind of creepy crawly creatures living on my scalp.

Around 2000, 2001-ish there was a gentleman I was seeing.
He lived out of town, in a bad neighborhood, in a shitty house, with his parents and without a car or job.*
I’ll leave your surmising as to what the attraction was to your [most likley correct] imagination.

One weekend, I returned home, not thinking much about the gentle itching on my scalp.
The following Monday saw me blerry-eyed and confused as I was up most of the night, itching.
In the bathroom** I parted my hair to find

Well, not godzilla, but certainly something that looked like it should have come out of a Japanese Monster Movie.
It was HUGE.
And as soon as it’s 100 little eyes saw me, it scurried back towards my crown.

After realizing that there was some serious shit going down, I went to the local grocery store (hat on) and picked up some flea shampoo***.
Ladies (and gents), please note that puppy flea shampoo is EXTREMELY drying to ones hair and/or scalp, regardless of how “gentle” it’s advertised to be. And it stinks much worse on a human head. Yes, yes, I know it’s for use on dogs only (not cats, humans, bears, eels, zebras or babies) BUT fleas are much more common/less mortifying than lice.

Thankfully, the bastards stayed up top because that whole thing could have went from bad to worse.

*As of now, we’ve settled our differences, he’s divorced and doing the single dad thing.
** I should mention, I was renting a floor in a house from a friend of mine and we shared a bathroom. Guys and girls have very different ideas about housing.
*** Also, we did not have a dog.

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas Edition

(cameo by The Toaster that Wasn’t)

Again, with the names…

A while ago, I made light of the HORRIBLE things that are named after moi.

While doing some pregaming for the Kohl’s gift cards that have burnt through my [New York/Back Room] Coach bag, I was looking at jeans and found these leggings:

"Laverne"

(http://www.kohls.com/kohlsStore/saleevents/1229/homepageurls/076_denimjeansforthefamily_s/womens/PRD~547734/Gloria+Vanderbilt+Laverne+Denim+Leggings.jsp)

Really?
Not only does just the brand “Gloria Vanderbilt” remind me of 1970′s mom jeans, but they had to add insult to injury and call them “Laverne”.

Also, can someone make a pair of skinny jeans for those of us with asses?
7 and 8 inch rises don’t work well on a girl with a little cushion.

KTHNXS.

In Which Stephanie Saves Christmas-ish

At the annual SMS Christmas party, Santa Claus makes one final stop before heading back to the North Pole; the chicken wings keep him in town overnight.

One of the kids insists that he hears bells (the noise for signaling an approaching Santa) and of course all of the other children have an instant reaction and come running into the garage.
And of course, you have to sing REALLY LOUD so Santa can find the house and come in with presents.

"Singing Loud for all to Hear"

While the adults are still drawing straws over who assists Santa this year, the kids are about to explode and we’ve already sung Rudolph and Jingle Bells.
Knowing that Santa’s helper has not yet been coursed (and with a couple of beers under my belt) I suggest that we sing “The 12 Days of Christmas”; being the longest Christmas song I know.

Things are going well.
“… two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree!”, as we sing off-key. “On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, six… um…”
“Six… uh…”
“What’s six?”
“I don’t know!”
“Ladies dancing?”, I suggest.
“NO! Um… GEESE! Six geese a laying!”
And everyone joins back in, “Five golden rings!”
Jumping around, we finish the verse.
“On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me… seven… aw geez…”
The kids look around, confused…
“I’m so sorry. Santa’s going to be late now that I suggested a song and didn’t know all of the words and if he’s not here on time, it’s totally my fault…”*
“‘sokay Stephanie!”
“NEAT! Seven, seven, seven SWANS A SWIMMING!”
We finish that verse and thank goodness Santa shows up.

* Knowing very well that the adults have finally stopped fighting over who was going to swallow their pride this year but preparing takes time.

In the Running for “Longest Lasting Christmas ‘IGOTACHA!’ Occuring on the Same Day” Award

10:30am
Around the tree, we open the box from my parents.
Inside is a box wrapped and addressed to me; also Baily and Kitty Toys.
Feeling kind of baffled as M&D said that there were a couple presents, we threw caution to the wind and opened the wrapping.
“Oh, neat, a bagel toaster!”, I say, not thinking much of it.
Continuing through presents, we sip Bailey’s and coffee.

3:30pm
At SMS’, we drink wine and open presents.

10:30pm
Arriving back at Casa Mak, Bailey and I crash on the sofa.

11:00pm
Thinking to myself… depending how the new toaster looks, maybe I’ll donate the other one and keep this one or ask for the receipt.
Hmmm, didn’t they use my toaster when they were up?
Why would they send me a toaster?
Why would they make such a to-do to mail me a toaster when the postage clearly cost more than said toaster.
UNLESS… it’s not a toaster.
So out of the warm cocoon I emerge, a dazed butterfly.
Over the the tree with a pair of scissors, I slice open the box to find more presents.
Clearly, I am blond or the whole concept of addressing a package to someone to only have more packages inside makes the other party blond….

If you care, the presents inside were more radium glass! WEEEE.

Merry Something or Other

Tonight went fairly hitchless… in reply to why we were so late arriving, we causally stated that we were trying to make grandchildren.*
Suddenly, our late arrival was acceptable.

White Elephant again found me receiving Hortons coffee while Steve got a Sabres ice/pint glass bucket.
(last night, I ended up with a Chia Pet and he got some Nerf dart guns which were broken within 10 minutes)

And now, quarter to twelve on Christmas Eve, I’ve finished my congratulatory Bailey’s and am ready for bed. again.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Real version: Steve had too much of a good time last night (7 pints of Guinness, 2 Blues, 2 White Russians and a couple chugs of “Apple pie moonshine”) and wasn’t able to hold anything down until 5pm. I meanwhile, did not want to get out of my Jammies until 4pm.

Curling! (the sport)

Vhhhattt is deeeeeseee?

It almost looks as though our incapable blogmistress is playing a sport!
Let’s take a look…

Toque? Check!
Team Canada jersey? Check!
Left foot covered in clear packing tape? CHECK!

Yes, it’s true.
Stephanie played a sport.
And yes, curling is a sport.
Don’t believe me?
You try hurdling a 34 lb rock down a sheet of ice while not overshooting or undershooting. Oh, and aim towards a big ol’bullseye.

By the end of the two hours, my gloves were off, sleeves were up and hat was removed.
You chase a rock down a sheet of ice, pushing with one foot and sliding with the other while whisking a burlap covered brush!

As far as injuries, I fell over almost every time I threw the rock and in one of my woo-woo-woo-ing falls, I overstretched something in my inner thigh.

All in all, not too bad.
I’d do it again!

Cheer

See, I’m all not gloom and bah humbug.

(okay, maybe I am)

Trying to Put Things Together/Call for Excuses

When things go one way (like, say, “AWESOME!”) and then things go the other way (as in, “G.D. IT ALL!”) I find myself becoming introspective… trying to figure out what in The Grand Equation has changed.
In Europe, I was HAPPY (okay, happier… less agitated); for reals, I didn’t even feel the need to take any meds or vitamins. Now, back home, the migraines are back and I’m feeling increasingly agitated.
Was it the 10+ hours of exercise a day?
The lack of additives to the food?
The sunshine-ish?
Lack of pressure?
Pre-holiday bliss?
Lack of responsibility?
Ability to just let go?

Why can’t I feel the same way here?
It’s upsetting.
I don’t like feeling like this.
(yes yes, I am going to bring this up to my doctor at my next appointment)

Call for Excuses
We’ve already tried the following (and I know they’re not all funny, but we’re trying to illustrate a point here*)
- We’re not ready
- We’ll let you know when we’re ready
- He’s impotent
- I’m barren
- We’ve been trying
- Maybe I am, pass me a beer
- *weeping*
- We’re going at it like rabbits!
- No

So, PLEASE, what far-fetched excuse can I use at this year’s family gatherings when I do not have a bump to watch?
Bonus pressure, now we’ve been to Europe.

* The point being, Hello, what if we have been/are trying and things aren’t happening… won’t you feel like crap then?

Game Plan, Game Face

At this point, I would hire John Williams to orchestrate some kind of pomp and fanfare piece.
Why?

Because today is D-day.

Crap

Today, after the company luncheon, I will be once again braving…. *dum dum buuuuummmmm* Mega Mall. *cymbal crash*
*Volins, gently crescendo-ing*
The time has come.
Plus, I’ll already be out that way.
And hopefully I can get there early enough to get things done before the crowds rush in.

*trumpets blaring*
I do not have a list, parsay, but that’s how I typically shop.
Candles for SMS, Coffee something or other for SDS…
Best Buy and JC Penny’s rewards certificates have been printed off.

*Timpani roll*
However, I do have my “white elephant” gift purchased.
And I have a direct ship to M&D en route.

*cacophony*
However, we are still treeless (rumor has it this will change tomorrow), decoration-free and baking-less.
Maybe I should pick up a gingerbread candle.

And you, dear reader,  how goes your holiday traditions?

P.S.
Apparently not globe-hopping creates boring dreams.
Last night, I was in a laundromat, trying to find a  machine that would take Euros and dispense quarters so I could dry my comforter and warm a jar of pasta sauce.
Also, I watched my laundry go around.
And there were a disproportionate number of washers to dryers.