Thursday, July 31, 2008


I had the best idea for my blog today ... I mean, AMAZING! Scintillating! It was going to be ground-breaking, really. I know this because I came rushing in here this morning to write it, and I never write anything in the morning ... well, rarely.

Sadly ... I've forgotten it. Now, really, how sad is that? It takes me exactly the amount of time for this thing to power up (which, when you're using dial up, can be a while) for me to absolutely lose my mind.

I shudder to think what that says about me ...

Tuesday, July 29, 2008


I was the reigning queen of temper tantrums as a child. Oh my goodness. We're talking full blown, all out, on the floor, kicking and screaming fits. Really, how my mother never ended up in a straight jacket is seriously beyond me. Truly!

So, I suppose understanding that I was reigning royalty helps to explain the TABLE TANTRUM of yesterday.

The good news is that the table has been found. My awesome principal actually tucked it away in his office for safe keeping (is this man a rock star or what!?), and THE TABLE will be delivered safely to my room sometime this afternoon.

Now, if only I could find my QUEEN CROWN ....

Monday, July 28, 2008


Things have been going along swimmingly. My classroom is pretty much done. I've been chill ... I've been calm ... I've been collected ... to borrow a phrase from one of my favorite companies, LIFE IS GOOD ...

That was until I found out that my kidney bean-shaped table had arrived at school and had, for all intents and purposes, "gone missing." How someone just loses a 72" table, is beyond me, but it has, in fact, gone missing.

Yes, I had a mini meltdown ... there was foot-stamping involved before I left the building in a huff, and headed to physical therapy, where I proceeded to vent to Michael about the fact that I'd just had a meltdown over a table. He found it all hard to believe, but he didn't just spend $140 of his hard earned instructional money for this table, either!

I'm sure this meltdown had nothing to do with the fact that I was awakened at 4:45 this morning to my neighbor yelling at his dogs --AGAIN, Zoe specifically, to "come." This idiot does this every morning, and I've got news for him. The poor dogs go outside twice in a day -- sometime between 4 and 7 a.m. -- always when I'm trying to sleep -- and sometime between the hours of "when Megan wants to get to bed early" and midnight.

So, dude, I hazard a guess that Zoe would dang well come to you when you yell at her 18 million times, if you'd actually let her enjoy the fresh air for more than the five seconds she gets to inhale it while peeing! Seriously, dude! Invest in some collars and leashes and take the poor dogs for a freakin' walk!

Perhaps then, I could get my full 7 hours of sleep, and then, maybe, I would wake up on the RIGHT side of the bed.

Sunday, July 27, 2008


Admittedly, I'm not a poet. Hate writing poetry. Love reading it. Don't want anything to do with the composition of it.

However, the muse was in the house ... or I lost my mind ... or I inhaled one too many mold spores ... or the planets were out of alignment ... or something. Because, I've spent the last two nights filling my journal/writer's notebook with poetry. Go figure!

It's not good. In fact, I'm stepping out on a limb here and saying, it's really rather ... well, CRAP! However, as I tell my students, we've got to practice, practice, and practice in order to hone our writers' craft.

So here goes ... a sampling of the poetry written over the last few evenings ...


Those eyes of yours ...
I swim in their depths,
Longing to find their soul,
the source of their sparkle.

Those eyes of yours ...
I fall into them,
Believing they hold secrets
behind a veil of lashes.

Those eyes of yours ...
I want to know more,
Begging to be drawn in,
the pools so vivid blue.

Those eyes of yours ...
I want to see myself through them.
Mirroring your hopes and dreams,
my true self in those eyes.


Silent ... oblivious ... emotionless ...
Unwilling to show the deeper parts?
A mask ...

Strong ... muscular ... sculpted ...
The soft, vulnerable self bubbling below the surface?
A mask ...

Kind ... gentle ... soft-hearted ...
A love beginning to bloom from a guarded heart?
A mask ... removed ...

Thursday, July 24, 2008


A local radio station has been, for weeks now, advertising their MAN MARKET. I've put off blogging about it until after the event was finished, because I know Carrie. She'd have Googled it, signed me up, AND paid the registration fee all in one fell swoop AND before alerting me to the fact that she'd done any of it. She subscribes to the theory, "Act now. Ask questions later." I wouldn't be surprised if she does some sort of arranged marriage thing for me ... that's just how crazy she is, but I love her.

At any rate, this radio station has done nothing but advertise the crap out of this man market. Basically, they put a call out there for single men to register with them. They'd create a catalog that could be distributed the night of the event, for all the single women that decide to show up, and, essentially, the women could shop for their perfect man.

In theory, this sounds mildly entertaining. Then I heard what time it started.

Men can start showing up at 9:30 ... that would be at night ... P.M. ... during the dark part of a 24-hour period. Yeah, and women would be allowed in the doors at 10:30 ... that would be at night ... P.M. ... still during the dark part of a 24-hour period.

See, here's the flaw in that whole line of thinking. I have difficulty staying up past 8:30 p.m. these days! Not gettin' a party started until 10:30 p.m.? Well, that's just craziness, in my book ... not to mention an entirely awful waste of $35!

"Yeah, dude, who's the chic in the corner, drooling on the table?"

"Dude, I don't know, but she collapsed there about 20 minutes ago."

"How lame ..."

Yes, I can see how that would play out ....

Guess the Man Market is out for me ...

Wednesday, July 23, 2008


I didn't wake up on time today. Therefore, I was rushing out the door in a flurry of arms, legs, wispy fly-away hairs, pink bag (oooh, and it's a cute pink bag, too -- check it out here:, and all, and Maddie the Cat was left wondering where in the heck her belly rub was.

Suffice it to say, there was no coffee made this morning. I didn't think it was a terribly huge deal until I got to physical therapy and was telling Michael that I'd gotten a Charley horse in the night, and it was still sore. So, of course, he couldn't leave the area alone. He had to press and knead it, which just about sent me off the table I was on. And then he did it -- the one thing to send me to my ledge. He asked the question that sent my unmedicated, uncaffeinated head into an emotional tailspin of oh-my-gosh-I-must-have-a-tumor. "Did you tear something back here?"

"WHAT!" I squeaked. Of course, I immediately saw dollar signs and many, many days off of work, and I broke out into a cold sweat, and was all, "NO! I couldn't have! Why? Does it feel like I have?"

Perfectly calmly, he replied, "Nope. I was just asking. So, do you get these a lot?"

"Well, hail!" I thought to myself -- it's really hell, but it sounds like hail down here. "Well, hail, now what's wrong? They're going to have to saw the leg off at the hip! Good grief! I do not have time for this. Doesn't the cosmos understand this???" This manic conversation was going on inside my head, that was banging ferociously, due to lack of caffeine and the fact that yet another weather front had blown through.

"No ... well, recently, yes, " I whined. "Why? Did I do something wrong? I mean I drank all sorts of water yesterday."

"Could be a lack of potassium," Michael interjects.

Hmmm ... I decided not to mention that I've consistently forgotten to eat one out of the three daily recommended meals each day since I've started camping out in my room. Probably where the potassium deficiency plays out, but why did he need to know this.

Well, I managed to climb down that particular ledge on my own, only to be sucked into the gym vortex by Caleb, who, on the directive of Michael, stuck me on a treadmill, inappropriate shoes and all. He even commented on my cute but inappropriate footwear before he ratcheted the stupid thing up to "make-the-gimp-jog" levels.

Did I mention I was also wearing an adorable skort and cutie tee? Certainly not gym wear, but definitely Starbucks-worthy, which is where me and my unstable mind were headed immediately following the Physical Therapy Session from Hell.

"That too easy for you?" He said smiling coyly. Call me crazy, but his smug look made me think he was thoroughly enjoying my discomfort, the sadist.

"Well, shoot, Caleb, you're suppose to start me out slowly! I'm not jogging my first day. Had I known I would have worn more appropriate shoes."

Oh he thought that was exceedingly funny, which did nothing for my mood or my mental state.

I've managed to do side-step hip extensions, four ways, quarter lunges, step ups, and the total gym in skort and flip-flops, but the treadmill was a bit of a challenge, especially when Captain America announced that I wasn't allowed to hold on to the side bars of the treadmill. I'm telling you, they are all sadists.

Thank God in Heaven for the individual that invented Starbucks coffee and the Pike Place blend. Two motrins and one VENTI later, I'm floating somewhere in between mildly serene and I-just-don't-give-a-flying-flip-anymore.


I was rudely awakened in the middle of the night with the Charlie Horse from hell ... in my left leg ... right under The Knee. I've got physical therapy this morning, and since it absolutely kills to walk right now, I can already tell this is going to be a good time. This will culminate in wads and wads of fun when Michael requires me to stretch my leg out, a feat I can't seem to accomplish at this precise moment.

So, the classroom is pretty much done. I'm missing my kidney bean conference table. It may show up on a UPS truck sometime between now and never, but I've at least got all that chairs in the space that the table would take up almost as if it was currently sitting invisible in my room. I might be able to pass it off as an invisible table, now that I think about it ... since I convinced my kids last year that there was, in fact, a desk monster that came in the middle of the night and cleaned their desks if they were messy. You've gotta love that sort of power, you know!?

Okay, so I just heard that it's suspected that Nicole Kidman faked her pregnancy and actually used her sister as a surrogate. Please, really? Cuz this little piece of info will help solve world hunger,won't it?

Ask me if I care? Just so you know, I don't care!

Good grief ... stick a fork in me ... I'm soooo done ...

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


Middle School Cheerleading Practice has started today ... I know this because they started running/conditioning ... down our hallway ... giggle and squealing ... LOUDLY!

This is yet another shining example of why I am so very thankful I no longer teach in the HORMONE ZONE, otherwise known as middle school.

IT'S 5:30 ... IN THE A.M.

I'm not sure why my body revolted sleep, but at 4:15 a.m., it did, in fact, revolt the idea of sleep and rest and relaxation. This will not bode well, say, at 11:30 this morning.

This happens every year ... just as school is about to begin ... when I need my rest most, my body decides it's got too much on my mind, and it flat out refuses sleep.

Why? I ask ...

Monday, July 21, 2008


I woke up with a migraine this morning -- an absolute screaming hint thunderstorms are on the horizon. This was a migraine that could cripple a large mammal ... say, something along the lines of an African Elephant.

Oh, it was bad. Not that it's all that good now, but after 3 Advil and, three hours later, 1 Motrin, I'm in some sort of weird "not here, but not really there" place. I forced myself, after PT, to come in here to work just because I know, if I work my butt off, the cleaning and organizing of classroom will be complete today. And that, my dear readers, would be a feat of gargantuan proportions, and if you think for one minute I'm joking, well, let's just let Carrie or Tuohy chime in with their two cents. I've streamlined, ladies. That's what moving does for a girl ... sort of ... that, and just being so sick of looking at the crap that I can't deal appropriately ... ever ... until it's out of my sight.

Perhaps it's my drug induced state that I currently reside, but I reacted weirdly to Michael's seemingly "trying to ease her into the idea of surgery" conversation with me this morning.

"You need to be cognizant of how your knee is feeling in the next couple of weeks because if this pain where we think the tear is continues, you're going to need to look into repairing it. You leave it, and you risk permanent damage."

Want to know what I was thinking when he said that ... what I almost said out loud due to my internal filter being dulled because of my migraine cocktail of pills?


Yep ... that was it. I realize, it's not lady-like to swear. My mother has her head in her hands at this very moment and is moaning, "I raised her better than this. I really raised her better than this."

But that is what I was thinking ...

That, and, "well crap! There goes my Fall Break because I'm certainly not doing this during the school year. And while we're on it, well, crap! There goes my teeny, tiny MASTERS DEGREE fund. Because I'm betting my insurance is going to require some sort of co-pay for this one. Seriously, does the cosmos have something against me getting a masters degree? Is there some 11th commandment that says, Thou shalt not earn a masters degree, Megan!"

Yep, that's what I was thinking ...

Sunday, July 20, 2008


Well, it's started again. I'm spending endless days in my classroom ... cleaning ... moving crap ... throwing away crap. So, far, I've managed to pitch enough paper to reforest a small wooded area. This makes me realize that I need to SAVE stuff on my computer and print only what I need for a certain day. It's insane the paper I've thrown away ... not very green.

I always end up losing a little bit of weight during these days, as I forget to eat when I'm crazy, busy cleaning, pitching, reorganizing and the like. Today, I've consumed a couple of Zone bars, but since 8 a.m., I've not had anything really substantial. And since I've been here since about 11:30 a.m., I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I'm so hungry.

Perhaps just a few more items organized, and then I'll head home to make some chicken quesadillas.

I will admit that if Carrie were here to watch me clean and reorganize, she'd be less than pleased with the amount of stuff I'm keeping. However, I think she'd be just as pleased with the amount of stuff I've thrown away.

I still need to get rid of a bunch of stuff, but it's better than it was! Gotta love that!

However, spending all this time in my classroom does help to explain why I'm not dating ...

Saturday, July 19, 2008


I'm exhausted. In fact, I'm so exhausted that I am actually too tired to nap.

It all started at Happy Jack's 2nd Annual Americana Music Festival. A way neato outdoor music festival. It's going on all weekend, but Christy and I went with another girl last night because it was suppose to be hotter than hubs of Hades today and tomorrow.

We listened to a couple of good groups, but my favorite was Mingoze Riff and Friends. Cool blues, reggae, rock ... could you ask for any better mix?

We left before the last band played because Christy was running a race this morning. Bless her heart, she's insane ... running a race at 7:30 a.m.!

When I got home, I piddled around for a bit, chatted with my parents on-line, and then headed off to bed. I was exhausted and had just nicely settled into sleep ... I mean, I was drifting off on a fluffy cloud of dreams, and my phone starts ringing.

My subconscious didn't really understand what was going on, so the phone rang for a bit before I jumped up and got it.

The idiot on the other end was so out of it, I couldn't understand a word he was saying or who he was looking for, but the best part of this whole thing was that he argued with me that "Akhksdf;jskdfjsal" was, in fact, there at my house, and I just wasn't allowing him to speak to "Akhksdf;jskdfjsal."

I finally just hung up on the guy, fell back into bed, and had just nicely started down the psychedelic dream world again, when ding bat calls AGAIN.

Here's the direct quote I used when I clicked the phone on:

"This is getting ridiculous. You're calling the wrong number. Get a clue!"

Funny thing ... he never called back. Apparently, he did, in fact, get that clue.

Friday, July 18, 2008


Man! It's just a bit before 9 a.m., and I've managed to get a 45 minute swim in, wash out my suit, do my towels, make breakfast and coffee, pick up a bit, shower, dress, put my face and hair together, and check email! I rocked it today.

Speaking of rocking it ...

I swam 1000 meters today. No, I didn't do it in break-neck speeds or in record time, but I swam 1000 meters, which, considering my knee injury and the fact that I'm hopelessly out of shape, is a pretty big deal. So, hands in the air, people. Show me some love.

Oh! And I also made friends with the lifeguard. At 7:10, it was just he and I. So, we struck up a conversation. He's a nice guy too, but in the course of things, he offered up that he was 25 years old. And I was all, "Man! Why would it be a bad idea for a someone my age to date someone his age?" And I couldn't come up with an answer until, I saw him smoking in the parking lot as I was leaving the Y. Then I was was all, "Oh yeah, that's right, because he's 25 and working as a lifeguard at the Y. Yeah, that's why it wouldn't really be a good idea. Right, got it."

So, last night I spent a good portion of the evening working on lesson plans for school, and the good news is that I got a good start on how I'm planning on moving my first week of school. Again, hands in the air, let's show me some love!

While I was plotting and planning, I had a rerun from VH1 on ... some of the top songs of the 80s, which, come on folks, the 80s were my high school heydays! But while listening to the special, I came to a realization, and that is, that I was (and to a certain extent, still am) a closeted hard rock, big hair band groupie wannabe! There were some great 80s songs they highlighted, and I sang along with them all ... lurid, disgusting lyrics and all. If my mother had known what I was listening to back then, well, let's just say, she's lucky I didn't kick the traces and start touring with the groupies of Poison!

Here's a sampling of the songs that rocked my teenage world back then, and, let's face it, they STILL rock my 30-something world now! On any given day, you might just see me zippin' by you, windows down, radio cranked up, me screeching right along with one of these groups ... (yes, I am a candidate for hearing aids ... relatively sure of that one) ...
  • Here I Go Again -- Whitesnake
  • Every Rose Has It's Thorns -- Poison
  • Don't Stop Believing - Journey
  • Jump -- Van Halen
  • Walk this Way -- remake with Aeorsmith and Run DMC
  • Sweet Child of Mine -- Guns n Roses
  • Pour Some Sugar on Me -- Def Leppard
  • Livin' on a Prayer -- Bon Jovi
I'm telling you ... I was a BIG BAND GROUPIE wannabe and just didn't even know it. I certainly had the hair for it, though. That's a sad admission on my part. Thank goodness, we all get better with time.

Speaking of music, I've got to admit something to the blogosphere, and this is nothing short of embarrassing ... are you ready for the confession?

Here goes ...

I love the new New Kids on the Block song. Yes, that's right, I like the song Summertime. I can't help it. I missed the NKotB mania the first time around ... I was a bit old for their version of "pop." However, the "kids" have grown up, and they're sort of hot, and I'm all about hot men romping around on the beach, which is what they're doing in the video. And just rereading this sentence has made me very ashamed of myself ... I'm going to need to go and wash something out with soap, I'm pretty sure of it.

Thursday, July 17, 2008


The custodians are trying to get all the floors waxed in the building (school starts sooner than any of us want to admit). The beginning of the week, when the teacher supply fairy in THE BIG BROWN TRUCK started dropping off packages, the custodians had the fairy stack the boxes right at the front door.

Of course, last night, I started getting panicky thinking about all the stuff I still need to do and wondering when I would get my supplies. Thankfully, our bookkeeper talked me off my ledge, this morning, and informed me some of the boxes were downstairs.

Like a kid at Christmas, I skipped (not really, Michael the PT would have a stroke if I skipped) down to the boxes, finding one for me right off the bat! I grabbed it immediately and pulled it close to me.

That's when I saw it!

The Roach From Hell ....

I'm not even kidding you, he was AT LEAST two inches long, and he was running up the box, right at me.

I screamed, "OH gross!" And I ran to the door and flipped him off onto the concrete.

It was at this point, he stuck his middle antenna up at me, swore, and started running full speed toward me!

I slammed the front door quickly and ran back to my room, hoping to elude The Roach from Hell ...

I swear it!

Our custodian, Ian, said, "Should have picked him up and et him (Ian's from the UK ... they eat blood pudding over there ... whatever!)."

Whatever ... now, I'm scared to open my boxes, because, as Ian pointed out, "it might have come out of one of your parcels."

Wednesday, July 16, 2008


I can never get it to look at cute as Susan does ... this is her handiwork, not mine. I'm working on it, though.


MISC #1 ... I called Carrie the other night. "Hey dude, is it wrong that I'm more than a little bit distracted by my new boss? I mean, seriously, he's going to be a distraction in every staff meeting we have. What a cutie!"

Well, God bless Carrie, she repeated it out loud, and her hubby, Tom shouted, "Is that Murray?"

"Hey, why is it that Tom automatically thinks it's Murray on the phone?"

Carrie laughed. "He says because, a.) none of us (meaning the Michigan contingent) would be lusting after our boss, and b.) because it sounds like something Murray would do."

Tom thinks he's a bit of a smarty-pants, doesn't he?

MISC #2 ... I decided to save a stamp and pay my Kohl's bill at the actual store today. That was dangerous, because I ended up finding two things on sale and bought them AFTER I'd paid my bill. You'd think I was under the impression that money grows on trees or something. But that's not what makes this miscellaneous crap that won't solve world peace. What makes this miscellaneous crap is the receipt they gave me after I paid my bill. It was confusing, and it didn't matter how many times the lady tried to explain it to me (and you could tell she really wasn't diggin' explaining it to me), I couldn't get it. So, finally, she was all, "Please use the courtesy phone to see if it's been charged to your bank account twice."

Well, it hadn't been, but I told the lady, "this receipt is confusing. You should tell someone about this."

I swear, she looked at me like I was smoking something. I'm sorry. Is it too much to ask for to have a non-confusing bill receipt?

MISC #3 ... In my ever-growing need for change, I did something slightly different with my hair, and I really, really LOVE it! It's freakin' easy to do in the morning too. Gotta love that. Photo to come later ...

MISC #4 ... I entertained the lifeguard yesterday morning wrestling my swim cap on my head. My hair reacts very NEGATIVELY to high amounts of chlorine. Let's just say, you don't want to get a match near my head. So, a swim cap was a good investment, I thought. Only, I have difficulty getting it on ... ARGH! Why must everything be so difficult?

Tuesday, July 15, 2008


Today, I landed at the pool at 6:30 ... yes, that would be in the A.M., people. There's a method to my madness, though. I figure if I can start conditioning myself to the process of getting up a bit earlier (not that I'd unconditioned myself, mind you, what with class), then in two weeks, when I'm back up at 5 or 5:30 a.m., my life will feel a slight bit normal. I put emphasis on the words SLIGHT BIT NORMAL because, really, what is normal about being up before the sun?

A bazillion years ago, I was a pretty fit, strong swimmer. In fact, a bazillion years ago, I was on a swim team and came in first in my heats all the time in the 100 meter freestyle. Okay, yes, my friend Denise's two girls are now swimming on that same team (I just keep reminding myself that I'm not that old), and the director of the team is retiring from her position at the high school because, (and this is sick to say because it requires me to come to terms with my age), she's reached retirement age for teachers!

ANYWAY! A bazillion years ago, I could go 100 meters and be out of breath because I'd just done the 100 at break-neck speeds. Now, I'm out of breath because I've just done the 100 meters at ... well, at any speed at all is miraculous! I won't even count the number of folks in lanes beside me that could do 200 meters at the speed of my one. It's amazing how out of shape we get when we choose to sit.

Today, however, I felt a bit stronger. I actually had a tiny, tiny amount of speed on my 100 meters, and, instead of being winded after 100 meters, I was winded this morning at about 200 meters. That, my friends, is progress in my book!

Now, if I could only make my left arm go all the way back on my back stroke, like the beautiful form of my right arm ... right now it looks like a broken wing. I tried to concentrate on making it match the right arm's strokes, but it refused. It has a mind of its own, and I don't like it.

Perhaps more weightlifting in the gym will work that mess out ... and more weightlifting will have to be the thing to do this week, as I had a pretty depressing weekend in pain with my knee. [heavy sigh] Michael seems to think that I'm indeed presenting all the classic signs of some sort of torn meniscus ... what's more, so does my orthopedic surgeon.


My body is revolting against me. I think I can almost hear the faint strains of DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING (wasn't that the song of revolution in the musical LES MIS?). I've got to take control back before my hips decide to defect as well.

Monday, July 14, 2008


So, I'm sitting here at school ... play time is over. With the start of school in a little over two weeks, I've got MUCHO GRANDE amounts of work to do before my new group of fourth graders arrive to be shaped and molded.

Nose to the grindstone ...

After my hair appointment today, I ran to the gas station to grab a protein bar and landed on PURE PROTEIN. It advertises 29 grams of protein. "This is good," I think to myself as I grabbed the Strawberry Shortcake flavor. "I didn't have much protein for breakfast."

Apparently, pure protein tastes just like crunched up vitamins (and NOT the Fred Flintstone variety, either!), as my protein bar tasted like crushed vitamins with bad strawberry jam on top.

I got it down ... barely.

Why can't things that are good for you taste like an entire bag of Frito's? I don't understand it. They can get people on the moon, but healthy eating still tastes like eating sand paper.

Sunday, July 13, 2008


I LOVE having visitors! It's so much fun hosting people in my home.

Since I've moved down here, I've begged my friends to come down and visit me in this incredible place I now live.

This year, I've had the pleasure of hosting Carrie, my parents, and just last night, my friends Jeff and Abby.

Jeff and Abby and I met when Jeff and I both worked at Albion College. Student Affairs and Alumni Relations can chew you up and spit you out, and we all started hanging out as a form of survival, I believe! There was a whole group of us that used to have parties and crazy canoe trips and basically time to just blow off steam.

Jeff and Abby left Albion and headed to Greeley, CO. From there, they traveled to LaGrande, OR, and then finally, landed back home in Morgantown, WV. Now that they are in West Virginia, which, really is just "over the hill," we started talking about maybe getting together, since it'd been six or seven years since we last got together.

Life got in the way ... you know how it is ...

A couple months ago, Abby emailed me to let me know that they would be passing through, and could we all maybe get together for lunch. Well, long story short, lunch turned into dinner and an overnight stay, which I was completely thrilled about because let's face it, seven years is a long time to catch up on life in one long lunch.

Last night, we ate at Buddy's Pizza, had ice cream at Baskin Robbins, and wandered around Frankfort, walking a bit around the capital (too humid, hot to do much walking). It was great to catch up, see the video of their recent trip to Costa Rica (they take the most fabulous trips!!), and just hang out.

Here's a photo of Jeff and Abby in front of the Governor's Mansion.

We're talking about getting together possible during my fall break. We shall see ...

Anyway, it was good to visit with them!

And, for all my friends that have yet to come and visit, my doors are always open ...

Thursday, July 10, 2008


I almost fell asleep just now ... yeah, that's right. I was typing, and then ... well, I was awakened by my head jerking backward.

Now that, folks, is tired.

And I can't explain why ... other than for the last four weeks, I've been running like a steam engine, and finally, I've got spare time on my hands. My body is reacting wildly to it.

Case in point, while the parental units were here, anytime we got into the car, I fell asleep! Seriously, you can ask them, I did!

Pitiful ...

I've turned into a 90 year old woman ...

Monday, July 07, 2008


It's been quiet here on the blog-front, but I've been hostessing the parental units. So, pardon my absence.

We're having a good time, though.

I made them Drunk Brownies. They're now fans.

They've brought rain with them, but they bring rain with them every where they go. That's just the way it is. We were rained out of Red River Gorge on Saturday. That was a bummer. I'd really been looking forward to exploring that area. Of course, with my knee the way it's been, I wouldn't have been able to do much exploring. Still, I'm looking forward to a return trip when I can ACTUALLY hike some trails!

That's another story ... my knee! I know, you're sick of me talking about it. I'm sick of hearing myself talk about it. However, it seems I still could be dealing with a tear in my meniscus. So, more physical therapy (grumble, grumble) and another trip back to the orthopedic surgeon's ... the second week of school, mind you. I'm pretty sure I've endeared myself to my new principal by already sending a request for a sub in ... I'm sure he can't wait to meet me!

Tuesday, July 01, 2008


Thank God, I've turned a corner with this knee! Minimal pain this past weekend, and if you knew what I've gone through as far as pain is concerned, this is such a fabulously, wonderful thing! You just don't even know! Great news! Terrific news!

I think Michael the PT wanted to do the happy dance! I'm pretty sure he's sick of seeing me ... hearing me complain about the pain and the lack of being able to do anything, as if it were his fault. I'm sick of it being the center of my life. I'm sure y'all (little Kentucky speak there for you) are sick of reading about it.

Yesterday, I arrived at physical therapy with a list of questions. I wanted answers ... I wanted a time line ... I wanted assurances.

The first question I asked was if I would ever be able to walk for exercise again. The second question was how long I would have to deal with this? For a while? For a year? Forever? The third, how long before I am "back to normal?"

The answer: Not sure. This could be something you deal with for the rest of your life. It could be something that, within a year, you're doing all your normal things again. The key is getting strong and STAYING strong. Being strong means muscle mass. Muscle mass means higher metabolism. Higher metabolism means weight loss, and that's a cool bonus!

Here's the kicker. I need to be strong! It's been a goal I've bandied about for a while now, but I've never committed to actually doing it. I'm being forced into it now.

In order to, hopefully, never have to deal with this knee again ... in order to be able to hike and walk and bike and be active and healthy, I MUST get strong.

So, I made a big decision last night. The money it's going to cost me to be a member of the YMCA ... it's a nominal fee when I weigh the cost of my life and my well-being. I will sacrifice something else for the ability to be strong ... really, truly strong.

I need my feet held to the fire. I need accountability.

So, call me ... email me ... bug me to death to make sure that I am sticking with it and working on being strong.