WTF?

Thought for the Day

"Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair but manifestations of strength and resolution."

-Kahlil Gibran

Talking with my Hands

I've been accused of it. I forgot all about it, though, until I was at friends' for dinner the other night. My hostess was talking while she was cutting up veggies or salad ingredients and she was waving the knife all around. I didn't hear a word she said. See, as someone who's very accident-prone, I was terrified that she'd slice her jugular open at any moment. She didn't.

That reminded me of other women who do that. My friend Angela, for one. We're close enough that I can ask her to step away from the knife. And then I remembered that FF's mom does that. Maybe that's why the talking with hands thing is a distraction for him. I'd never talk with a knife in my hands. For one thing, I can't multitask. Not even a little bit.

And then, I realized there's a pattern. All three of these women are strong, intelligent, independent, and passionate about life. And they're women. Could that be part of it? I have a feeling there's a neurological component. I'll have to start noticing.

I'll have to close with this quote from Rachael Ray: I cut myself a lot--but not when I'm chopping. It usually happens when I'm holding a knife and talking with my hands!

Belly Buttons, Part MCXLII

Damn it. I think I'm getting MRSA. I'm feeling feverish. Of course, this doesn't help one bit:

I woke up wondering about the best practices for cleaning the navel. The little eight step process Dude so kindly shared with me failed to mention one thing. How often should you do it? Is it a daily thing, or do you just do it every week or two? Like when you cut your toenails. Only problem is that I don't do that until they start catching on my sheets or rubbing when I go running - I forget about them. Same as my navel. Should I just do it quarterly, when I change my air conditioner filter? Dammit, I think I'm overdue on that. I can't believe the WikiHow article left out the frequency. It was very complete. It even explained that Q-Tips are the same as cotton swabs. Q-Tip is a brand name. Wow. Who knew?

I think the problem is the heat. That and the fact that I never dry my innie after my shower. So between sweating and taking more showers in this miserable summer, I'm sure it's a perfect breeding ground for bacteria. And to think that I've always been proud of my innie. It even stayed in when I was nine months pregnant (some women's navels pop out or get flat). Which happened to be the middle of a blazing July, many years ago.

Damn, I'm obsessing. Better stop. I did, however, notice my blog received an excessive number of views yesterday. I'm probably attracting weirdos with belly button fetishes. Is there such a thing? I'm sure there is, but I'm not gonna Google it. For fear my blog will rank high in the search results. Yuck. Oh, for the record, that was NOT a photo of my BB in yesterday's instructional post...

Breaking Belly Button News

I do have an infected navel. I did have to wait three hours to see the doctor. She did not give me antibiotics (I told you they were impossible to get). She did not give me morphine, either. Damn, I meant to ask for that.

I don't have a piercing. Apparently, just bad hygiene. One of my loyal followers informed me that there's a proper way to clean a belly button. Am I the only one who didn't know they needed cleaning? Why didn't my mother teach me?

Check it out: http://www.wikihow.com/Clean-Your-Belly-Button
There's an eight step process, complete with implements and a special spray.
Belly buttons are one of the hardest areas on your body to clean. Some people have lint and dirt in their belly button. Here is how to clean your belly button and make your body clean.

My favorite step is #2:
Give yourself plenty of time. You could hurt yourself rushing. Be very patient.

Damn, which would be more embarrassing? Getting an infected belly button because you never cleaned it or hurting your belly button because you got in a hurry while you were cleaning it?

At first I thought this was a joke and then I realized that the makers of Navel Fresh Spray probably posted it. Where can I get some of that shit?

Ok, I think I've exhausted that subject. And I'm exhausted. I'm gonna go squirt a little Bactroban (prescription antibiotic cream - does that count as getting antibiotics?) in the old navel and hit the sack. Because tomorrow's another day and two more doctor's appointments. If we finish at the VA hospital in time for the second one. Which is doubtful.

Random Musings II

I'm contemplating my navel. It's infected. This happens from time to time. Every couple years. It always clears up with a little dab of Neosporin. This time, though, it came back with a vengance. So, being the hypochondriac that I am, I'm certain it's MRSA and I will die from it. Just called doc to make an appointment and they said they had not one, but three appointments this afternoon. That worries me. I love her, but why is she so available? I'm sure I'll still have to wait three frickin' hours...

Doesn't matter. I probably need an antibiotic. Which is harder to get than morphine these days. If it's MRSA, I could be hospitalized. Which would be a good excuse to blow off client deadlines and responsibility for The Daddler. Maybe I could score some good pain meds, too. Gotta work this COBRA.

Am I supposed to clean my innie? I never had this problem before some idiot quack did laproscopic surgery there. Unfortunately, the statute of limitations has run out.

Ok, gotta run. Need to shower before I head to doc. Still sweaty from my run. I'll pack a bag, just in case...

Random Musings

I'm going to break my rule that I'm not going to complain about the weather. So banal. I decided to go for a run this morning, and damn, it was awful. It probably didn't help that it's been two weeks since my last confession. I mean run. The heat index is 110 today and the actual temperature will be 100 degrees. And I went at 9:00. So much for my lizard tendencies to not be bothered by the heat.

Speaking of heat, which leads to sweat, I have a funny story to tell. In a moment of largesse, I impulsively bequeathed my beloved Subaru to Kiddo to take to college in the fall. It's a stick shift, so he had to learn to drive it (I narrowly avoided whiplash). He was motivated, however, by the desire to drive something less grandma-ish than a 97 Lumina or a 99 minivan. I was motivated by how safe my precious Subaru is - all wheel drive, antilock brakes, airbags, you name it! Not bad for a 2001. I'm such a good mother.

On several occasions, I've been tempted to take it back when Kiddo's been not-so-nice to me. That seemed to get his attention. But I decided to embrace the minivan. After all, I'm 50 years old and it's practical, paid for, and The Daddler likes it.

Sooo, the other day, Kiddo was hounding me to go to Sam's. Ugh. The D loves Sam's. So the three of us loaded up in the Outback. As soon as I got in, I noticed the stench. Like a locker room. I asked if he had sweaty clothes in the car. No. I asked The D if he could smell it. "Yea, it smells pretty bad." Kiddo grinned. He couldn't smell it. I told him to take towels so his sweat doesn't soak into the upholstery.

On the way home, we rode with the windows down. Don't know which was worse, the heat or the stink. I guess the heat was better - my nausea subsided.

Later on, I figured it out. Kiddo marked his territory. He knows how sensitive I am to smells. When he was in 8th grade, he'd let a big ole' stinky fart on the way home from school. He'd wait for my reaction. And take great pleasure in it. He seemed to relish my reaction to the Subaru-funk smell equally. I bought a multi-pack of Febreze at Sam's.

Ok, I've spent way too much time on the stink thing.

I need to cover some other topics, but it's 11:00, so I think that will have to wait until later. Time to think about lunch for D.