I caved

For as long as I can remember, I've been unable to breathe through my nose at night. Even if I'm not at all congested, the second I lie down, I feel like I'm not getting enough air through my nose. So I've been a total night breather.

Until I was pregnant, it was never a big deal. But then I started sleeping on my back, and it caused snoring. I don't snore every night, but at least twice a week, Hubs is kneeing me in the back telling me that I'm snoring.

So a few days ago, I finally broke down and bought BreatheRight strips at the request of Hubs. He told me that he gets scared because I sound like I can't breathe.

I was really doubtful about how well they would work, but as soon as I put one on that first night, it was like I could really breathe. But I didn't sleep well because I had to consciously make an effort to keep my mouth totally closed. I could breathe, but it's a habit that I've had for decades.

The second night was better.

And last night, I slept great. I can't believe that these things actually work. I woke up, though, with my BreatheRight strip stuck to my leg. I guess I still have to get used to having something on my face while I sleep. But I asked Hubs if I snored, and he said no. And I feel like I really did sleep better.

The thing with these strips, though, is that they pull the bridge of your nose up a little and out. So my schnoz looks huge when I have one on. I told Hubs, "I guess I'm not exactly the sexy thing you thought you were getting when you signed up for this marriage thing. I just need curlers in my hair and a green face mask." He informed me that I think it looks a lot worse than it does, and that a little nose strip is a hell of a lot sexier than watching me sleep with my mouth hanging open.

Happy Turkey Day?

Even as an omni, I never understood replacing 'Thanksgiving' with 'Turkey Day'.

The past few years I've tried really hard to make sure that my focus on Thanksgiving is about taking a step back, looking at my life, and really being thankful for all the things I take for granted. I'm grouchy today, so I'm not doing that right now. In fact, I just sat on the phone and bitched with my mom about the incessant football monopoly that has taken over not only the television at my house, but also the computer.

Anyway.

I think it's kind of sad that instead of taking personal inventory and trying to think about everything we have that's right and good, Thanksgiving is an excuse to stuff ourselves silly. Think about it. It's become a holiday that surrounds a meal. Not just a meal, but a turkey.

It's probably easier for me to be self-righteous about it, though, since the past couple of years I've had to make an entire meal for myself at these family get-togethers. The holiday CAN'T be about bonding over a turkey anymore (and actually, thinking about it has me a little queasy). So it really has become about spending time with the people I love and being thankful that we CAN all be together (even if they're eating turkey).

It still irritates me when I get emails and text messages that read: "Gobble, gobble, happy Turkey Day!" Seriously, folks, just leave me off of the fucking mass email next year.

But I am thankful to be remembered. :)

And this is why I fantasize about running away and not coming back.

Okay, so not really. But I threatened it this morning. I was at the end of my rope. Because this is how the last 12 hours have gone:

1) After work at the bar, I had to stop and get bread so that I could, you know, pack a sandwich for Bean for school today. I have a cold, so I kept telling myself, "Self, don't forget DayQuil and NyQuil. Don't forget it. Or you'll never sleep." So what's the one thing I forget? The medicine. But somehow I managed to walk out of the store with not only bread, but two kinds of soy milk, a pineapple, some apples, and two chocolate oranges. *sigh*

2) Every time I would crawl in bed during the night after one of my many runs to the bathroom to piss (when I'm sick, I chug water like a maniac, and then I'm up all night), dearest Hubs wanted to cuddle. I can't handle touching when I'm sick. Don't kiss me, don't hug me, don't touch me, it's hot in the bed, my face feels like it's going to explode because of course I forgot the NyQuil, and I can't sleep with you touching me!!!

3) *music playing while I try to make myself not look like the undead for work*

Hubs: Why are you always listening to those guys who sing songs about whales?

Me: They have one song about a whale, ONE, and that's what you cling to.

Hubs: All they sing about are whales and pirates and crosswinds and tradewinds and whatever.

Me: You're a jerk. And you like Van Halen, so shut up, douche.

Hubs: That's so funny I almost peed myself

4) We have two litter boxes. One is in the laundry room, the other is in the office. We have one in the office because that's the room where we kept Izzy when we brought her home, and that's where we still keep her food and water and box. Not only did I have to chase the dog out of there after he devoured the rest of the cat's daily food, but I went to clean the box before work, and it was turned on its side. On its side with a great big clump of something on the floor. I nearly cried while I was vaccuuming up the mess.

So here I am at work. Obviously not working. Because I feel like I'm dying. And I realized that half of the items of clothing I'm wearing belong to Hubs. I'm wearing his track pants. And socks. And shoes. And hoodie. Thank god I have my own underwear on.

Wordless Wednesday

Well, wordless except for the captions. And this.

Buzzard making schmoopy with Bean's bear.


Buzzard making schmoopy with Izzy.


Ooh, scary. (Mine's on the right. And it's pretty cute if I do say so myself.)


See? She thinks they're scary, too.


But this thing is scariest of all. It's at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, and it is called "The Big Pig". They guessed that this is what this thing would look like after they found it's fossilized remains. Doesn't Bean look a bit apprehensive?

Be the change

"You must be the change you want to see in the world."

-Mahatma Gandhi



I realize that this was said by Gandhi, so of course it's true and profound.

But sometimes, when I think about this, it strikes me all over again. I tend to be a little cynical (imagine!), and this quote seems to pop into my life on a coffee mug or a bumper sticker or a t-shirt when I'm feeling most down about the state of the world and the actions and attitudes of my fellow human beings.

I see this and realize how hypocritical I can be. I get pissed off and irritated with people, with the world, but I can't hope for people to behave any differently toward me (or anyone else for that matter) unless I stop acting like such a turd. And in case you don't know me all that well, I can be a turd. A lot. A smartass, passive-aggressive, snarky.

Consider this my promise to try to be the change I want to see in the world.