Monthly Archives: April 2012

And Then I Broke Myself

I like to think I’m pretty tough.  My cousins and I have a knack for making all activities– whether it be the card game spoons or badminton– full contact.  I played rugby in college, which is essentially an exercise in getting the crap beat out of you.  I once fell off my bike in Costa Rica and cleaned the open wound in the ocean.  I was reared by the baddest woman I know.  I am tough as shit.  Or at least I thought I was.

A combination of lifting weights, a 3 hour DC walkabout with my a heavy purse across my right shoulder* and sleeping funny one night last week has left me with muscle spasms in my shoulder and upper back.  I’ve dealt with muscle knots before, as I like to carry my shoulders as close to my ears as possible (both generally for fun and when stressed) but this is pain like no other.

I started with the usual route– enough Advil to make me fear an ulcer, walking to the gym to sit in the hot tub and a small investment into Tiger Balm and Icy Hot.  I smelled terrible.  It hurt.  No matter which way I adjusted my body, I couldn’t get comfortable.  And a week later still can’t.

I spent the majority of Saturday evening sitting on my front porch with a bag of ice on my shoulder and Tiger Balm at my side.  We had plans to go to Policy on U Street Saturday night to celebrate Brynn’s birthday, so I wanted to make sure I was properly Tiger Balmed before we set out.  I was going to be a trooper.  Because Brynn’s pretty great and staying home wasn’t anymore comfortable than any other activities.

I even put on make up and high heels– pretty much for no reason.  Do YOU know how hard it is to pick up boys in a bar when you’re moving around like an old lady and smell of very minty feet?  Not easy.  By the end of the night, I was in enough pain to throw  public decency to the wind and just started lathering my shoulder up with Tiger Balm in the middle of the bar.  I was that much fun this weekend.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, I’d had enough and scheduled a doctor’s appointment.  So now I’m on muscle relaxers and some anti-inflammatory they usually give to old folks with arthritis*.  Let me tell you what it is like after you’ve taken 2 muscle relaxers at the office.

Talking to your superior:  Oh shit.  He’s talking to me.  What is he saying?  Ok.  Focus, focus, focus.  It’s your turn to respond now.  What did he say?  You need to respond.  RESPOND!  It is a lot like showing up to your high school Spanish class high.  Or what I assume it would be like to show up to your high school Spanish class high.

Sitting at your desk:  Really hard.

Keeping your eyes open:  Virtually impossible.

Other activities that are hard:  brushing your teeth, feeding yourself, holding up your ice cream cone, washing your hair, hugging, sitting at a desk all day, sitting anywhere for more then an hour when you’re expected to hold still, sleeping.

I’ve finally caved and scheduled a massage.  I’m fairly certain this woman is going to make me cry.  I’m putting all of my muscle spasm eggs in her basket.  I want her to work miracles.  I want her to be a muscle spasm goddess.  I jwant to sleep at night and be able to left my beer without searing pain.  Is that too much to ask?  I didn’t think so.

The moral of this story is this:  Don’t walk around town with bricks in your purse.  Get a super cute backpack like this one maybe.  Tiger Balm is a natural cockblock– if you’re on the market for one.  Muscle spasms blow.  And apparently, I’m not as tough as I thought.

* Most likely filled with bricks.




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10 on Thursday / 2 + 1 = Today’s Post

Because I’m feeling lazy.  And that simple arithmetic problem is as close as I’ve come to studying for the GREs in weeks.

1.  A happy belated birthday to Hilarity in Shoes!  I actually knew it was your birthday all day yesterday, just failed to acknowledge it.  I’m very sorry.  Please feel free to now forget mine (it’s July 29th).

2.  If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it one hundred times.  Fuck pollen and the plants they grow on.  I walked past some freshly cut grass yesterday evening and my eyes got so watery and my nose got so runny that I had to lie down when I got home.  No frolicking through meadows or rolling down hills for me until shit quits blooming apparently.

3.  My co-worker B has a raging case of pink eye, which has people around the office feeling a bit nervous.  I’m resisting all urges to make mittens out of lysol wipes whenever I have to be in 3 feet of her person and/or touch anything she might have touched ever.

4.  Co-worker B is not a fan of eye drops and said as much to the doctor yesterday afternoon during her appointment.  Finding out that she lived alone and was unattached– the doctor advised her to go to a bar, have a couple drinks, find a cute boy, take him home with her and ask him to administer the eye drops.  Because that’s super sexy.  At least the good doctor has a sense of humor.

5.  Turns out co-worker B didn’t go trolling for a cute boy last night and has enlisted my services during business hours.  Her instructions to me as follows: shake the bottle of eye drops well, put one drop in each eye, don’t let the bottle touch my eye or else I’ll reinfect myself and watch out because I might try to hit you.

She claims the hitting thing was a reflex.  I instructed her to sit on her hands.  She didn’t actually hit me, I’m pleased to report.

5.  I’ve been averaging a 9:05AM arrival time at work as of late, but managed to make it here before 8:59AM every single day this week.  I stated at a volume slightly higher than necessary “on time again!” Wednesday morning as I walked into the office just as one of the vice presidents rounded the corner.  Damnit.

6. Skip past 2 minutes for this song to get real good.

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3 things:

1.  To make you laugh — Texts from Hillary Clinton

2.  To make you feel all better — 13 Simple Steps To Get You Through A Rough Day

3.  Word.

And bonus — hilarious:

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What’s your major?

Former Roommate C is gettin’ hitched at the end of the month.  The boys and I have decided to drive because once you add up the hours it takes to get to the airport, fly to Cincinnati, rent a car and drive to wherever it is we’re going in Kentucky, it doesn’t take that much longer to go by car.

Being that women can’t drive, nor navigate*– I’ll get to spend the 8 hours in the back seat watching movies and reading books, so what do I care?   And as Roommate B added, “demanding we pull over every half hour so you can pee because that’s what women do.”  I plan to keep myself actively dehydrated to refute that claim.

Roommate A is in the wedding and therefore has related duties.  Roommate B and I, however, have nothing to do that weekend but drink bourbon and try to show up the wedding ceremony on time.  Which roughly means we have lots of unscheduled hours to get ourselves into trouble.

Roommate B has been scouting potential activities for us on Friday night and during the day Saturday.  There is a race track and some distilleries and maybe a pool.  Meh.  After some more in-depth research yesterday afternoon, I got the following g-chat:  We’re next to a college!!!!  I’m researching sorority functions that weekend.

At first I thought– this could be bad.  Real bad.  And then I got a little bit excited.  I’ve never been to a sorority function!  Damn liberal arts school in a large urban part of the Midwest.  What’s my major going to be?!  Roommate B has decided on anatomy.  I’m going for a MRS.

BOOM!  Bring on the south!

*Or mow lawns, which I’m totally in favor of given that I was the sole lawn mower for the household the second I was strong enough to get the lawn mower up and down the hill in the front yard without tipping over.

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10 on Thursday

1.  Full disclosure:  I have not posted all week because I’m a lazy bum.  Which is also why this is poorly written and edited.  Enjoy!

2.  I left for Minnesota on Thursday evening to spend the weekend with my grandpa in Duluth.  I had just enough time between the end of the work day and take-off to drink slightly more than recommended before a 3 hour flight.  Being friends with the bartender is both a blessing and a curse.  Because while T-Bone and I only had a $19 bar tab, the 3 glasses of wine were poured heavy and the shot of tequila on the house.

I have very mixed feelings about tequila, but generally subscribe the theory that it should never ever ever be drank, unless you’re super interested in making bad decisions and/or taking off your clothes.  Turns out the combination of wine, tequila and french fries just made me pass out.  I was asleep from the moment I buckled my seat belt until our wheels touched down in Minnesota– making it effectively the best flight I’ve ever taken.

3.  It was touch and go for a minute when I was on the train to DCA, as I was 100% convinced I was going to miss my flight.  That would have been a terrible phone call to make to my mother.  To be fair, I’m notorious for cutting it really close on my way to the airport but have yet to actually miss a flight.  So I’ve got that going for me.

4.  Time spent with my grandpa mostly revolves around when he likes to smoke his cigars (for medicinal purposes) and eating.  Saturday afternoons include a “cigar run” which is a scenic drive around the city of Duluth, some moderate trespassing on the docks now managed by Homeland Security and the driver inhaling a shit ton of second-hand smoke, as he prefers to drive with the windows up.

5.  Post-dinner cigar.  I look fabulous.  He looks like ET.

6.  My mother loves a good deal more than anything else in the world– it doesn’t matter if she already has 3 polar fleece jackets, this Mountain Hardware jacket is 50% off!  She likes to stash her finds in the study closet and therefore, is always prepared for birthdays, weddings and all other occasions that involve gift-giving.

As we were going through the jewelry picking out a pair of earrings for her friend’s birthday the night I got into town, she started gifting me things as well– wool socks, a small clutch and a cheese cutting tool set.  I stashed it all in my carry-on and didn’t think twice about any of it.

Until 5AM Monday morning.  In the airport security line.  I had successfully retrieved my shoes, purse and belt from the conveyer belt and was waiting for my suitcase when I saw the cheese cutting knife blown up and looking incredibly menacing on the x-ray machine.  That obviously got confiscated.

Further proves my point that I am capable of absolutely nothing before 8AM.  What kind of idiot tries to take a knife onto an airplane?  Even if it’s specifically designed to cut soft cheese and not people.  Quite frankly, I’m pleased I didn’t get arrested.

7.  This has been making me smile week.  I’ve got it bookmarked for rough days at the office.  Or in life.

8.  I’ve decided to take a crack at running again.  It’s not that I particularly like running– in fact I think it sucks.  But as a moderately athletic woman, I find it embarrassing that I can’t run three miles without wanting to keel over and die.  Plus I’d like to be able to run away if I was being chased.

I’ve only a gone 1 -2 miles at a time so far, either home from the gym or around the neighborhood, but I’m feeling good.  I’ve strategized my routes to end every mile at a Capital Bike Share stand in the off chance I need to bail.

Last night I was running down 2nd Street enjoying the spring weather, the wind blowing in my hair, super super stoked that I was still able to breath as I neared the end of my second mile.  As I mentally congratulated myself for being SO AWESOME at running and took a deep breath– I swallowed a bug.  Job well done, as per usual.

9.  The boss man has been out of town for almost three weeks.  Most of our correspondence since he’s left has been to remind me to water his plants.  I’ve excelled at killing plants around the office in the two years I’ve been here, so the reminders are necessary.  I’ve got post-it notes all over my desk along the lines of WATER THE PLANTS!!! and I’m delighted so say they are all still alive.

10.  Roommate B and one of the frat boy friends got into a heated debate with some kids a couple years younger than us about the best rap album ever.  They were voting for 50 Cent, but we’re  standing by Nelly’s Country Grammar.  I used to rock out to this song.  You know– in my mother’s minivan.  When she was driving.  Super bad ass.

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