Or an Appendectomy

So it was my appendix and it was taken out Thursday. Im feeling much better, but my insides hurt and Im tired, so Im gonna take like a week's break to recover a bit more. Thanks for the lovin' and good wishes.

xoxox

Hannah

Steak and a Bath

Gonna do it, Kendra. Gonna do it.

Why is it that when it finally hurts enough and I go to the doctor, they're like "yeah, it could be this or this, but also could be it's nothing."

Don't do what you do, Doctor Man (or Doctor Lady). Take it seriously. Stop minimizing. Start validating. That's all we, the people of mysterious ailments, ask of you.

Steak and a bath. That is good advice. I like it!

Hey, I'm Just Gonna Dip Into a Little Engrish, Okay?

Sometime after I left Japan, there was this major underground campaign to get "fuck" and "shit" on all sorts of stuff. You might, you know, wonder why so many Japanese don't bother to read the English on the stuff they are wearing. I can only respond that Britney Spears has a kanji tattoo that she thought meant "special" when it really meant "weirdo." Things get lost in translation . . . if you bother to translate. Anyway, these are from engrish.com.

For once, just try. Okay?

I mean, I guess if you have to have miscellaneous foods, here they are. Pfft. Whatevs.

What an odd assortment of people to tell off. I'm glad this guy is out, because he makes no sense to me and it makes me mad that I bought into his stoopid rhyme scheme. But I get the part about the parasites, because I am scared of bedbugs.

I get it! I get it. You only had to say it once.

I'm out.

Sixth Grade Dance Parties

Okay, so what we have here is a study in contrasts. First, I love the boy on the left. He is so excited and happy and trying not to have a lightning boner and scare the girl away. It's probably the first time he's touched a girl's bottom and he is truly, really enjoying the moment as well as holding onto that butt for dear life -- he does not want to let this moment end. You can also tell from her body language that the girl is kind of uncomfortable, she doesn't want to be the girl whose known for letting boys grab her bottom, but she's also leaning into him a bit. It's sweet.

On the right, you have the boy that is all too aware of the camera: the faux-sneer pose that also displays his nostrils, the soda pop at a jaunty angle that suggests an adult beverage of some sort. Im sure he's got the other hand on the girl's bottom as though he's done it a million times before and just doesn't care anymore: a girl is a girl and it's more important to get a good photo op in than to be stoked on the girl. She's hugging him much more and closer that the girl on the left, but he doesn't seem to care. He's a chav in the making.

Finally, I hope that little girl wondering in isn't there for the dance. She looks a little too young for this kind of party.

From Awkward Family Photos

Buzz and Budd Chigurh had no idea of the evil within lil' Cindy's pageboy, not even when she started calling them "frendo."

So There's This Thing

Yesterday I started feeling horrible whilst Marie and I were wallpapering. I'd had a pain in my lower left side for a day or so, but I usually try to convince myself that if I go ahead and do normal things (wallpapering) then my body will just adjust to normalcy and everything will be normal.

Except it wasn't.

I told Marie and, trying to be all independent was about to drive myself to the hospital. Except my car wouldn't start. So I had to do my least favorite thing in the world: ask for help. Marie dropped everything and drove me to the doctor's, then the hospital and waited until I got into intake in the ER and Christian showed up. And you know, if Marie hadn't of done that, I don't know that I would have made it. I really needed her and didn't even know it.

Christian and I spent hours there: physical tests ("does it hurt when I push really hard on your lower left side? Does it hurt when I push really hard on your stomach? What about when I push hard and release?" "You know what? It all hurts!") I did contrast swallows and a CAT scan that showed it might be the appendix or it might be some other kind of major digestive problem. They ruled out ectopic pregnancy, by the way. But after another day of observation and testings, we don't know anything more.

One of the things I had to learn to accept when Sarah got sick is that doctors know quite a lot, but there are mysteries that they just do not know. And there is a hell of a lot they guess at. So when they say "it could be appendicitis, it could be something else. It could be lots of things, we're not sure. But we don't think its life-threatening at this juncture." I believe them. It's not ideal, but its better than a wrong diagnosis. They gave me a couple things to help, and if I wind up in more pain I am to go back tout suite.

So Im taking it slow and low until the pain goes all the way away -- it is still there.

But then listen, Christian and I come home; I'm groggy and my head hurts and body hurts -- and there is my car! It turned out that Cliff saw it was a loose battery wire and fixed it and Dave and Marie shuttled it here. Isn't that great? But Im thankful that wire was loose because I really needed help, and that loose wire made me ask for it.

So that's all. No more hospital trips. Nothing big. No condition to report. Unless someone reviews my case and comes up with a diagnosis. But for now, all is quiet and I'm hoping things get settled right and the pain all goes away.

Thank Yous are Called For

Dear Marie, Dave and Cliff.

I don't know exactly how to thank you other than saying that your kindness, humor and thoughtfulness both surprise (how can anyone be so fantastic?) and comfort me (I must be doing something right to have people like y'all in my life).

Thank you again. And again.

With much love and gratitude,

Hannah

Are You Kidding Me?

Aw, isn't it cute? Don't you want to find out more about this darling little dear of a fawn? Take a good look at the notes. Something ain't right there.

Giggles!!!

Calm yourselves! I present to you, my readers, the most elegant and irresistible man on the planet. Also, he could take care of the Lex Luthor/cake problem. That hair, the crazy eyes, the musical instrument and firearm display, not to mention the banana hammock straining to hold his crotch together. Yes. And you are welcome.

Lex Luthor is bad news. Forty cakes? I guess thirty-five would have been okay. Greedy, sure. But okay.

Just to put things in order. And also because this one looks like Biscuit.

Did You See Obama at the Republican Retreat?

Amazing.

He takes it, he turns it, and you can see the right-wingers scrambling to mouth some Glenn Beck propaganda to come back at him. Then he takes it and turns it again.

So fresh.

Some Things are Odder Than Just "Odd"

Like this, for example. Let's file this under WTF, shall we?

Sorry Everyone

I'm sorry you had to see that side of things. But seriously? Two years later and still stalking me by internet? Crazy.

So Look, These Are The Facts. Deal.

I have a readership of literally possibly ten people and I am cool with that. I know that one of them should probably not be reading this because it probably falls under the whole "internet stalking" thing.

So this is a message, a message that I can say because this is my space to say such things, to that person. The other nine of you can take a break.

-----------------

To The Person Who Cannot Leave it Alone:

If you are really so bent on purging me from every aspect of your life, then perhaps we should go ahead and purge the marriage and send back the Green Card? I mean, if that is your idea of "civil," (erasing everything) I would be happy to make the appropriate calls. I've noticed a pattern with you lot that if things (or people) disappoint, you just airbrush them out as though they never existed. You might want to talk to a professional about that perfectionist streak you seem to have.

Personally, I am just trying to remember the good times. But you -- you make it very hard, and you do not even know the whole story of what happened. You forget that I was the one who listened to you while you cried, while your son ignored you. You forget that your husband loved me as a daughter. You don't care that killed me inside to watch someone I loved die in the exact same way: knowing what would happen next and knowing how it would end. You don't even know his last words to me.

One last thing: every aspect of your son's new life seems to hinge on him being in Durham, at Duke: new job, new bride, new life. So some good came out of that. You should at least respect that his new life comes from the remnants of the old. Unless you are not capable of seeing things in any sort of bigger picture at all, which I thought -- had been told countless times -- that Canadians excelled understanding all the various aspects of these things.

Leave me alone. Live your life. Accept I am living mine differently and that I do not believe in the Stalinist purging of the past. (No one really forgot Trotsky, did they?) It's been two years and you are STILL internet stalking me? Do you realize how crazy that is?

Oh, and let me know if you want both the ties and traces of our marriage to disappear and I'll make those phone calls so your son can start over with his Green Card with his new wife.

Yours Warmly,

Hannah

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It's February!!!

Good things happen in February:

--My ma's birthday

--ACC basketball

--Really good skiing and snowboarding

--Valentine's Day (this should make you happy to be in whatever kind of partner situation you have: flirting, dating, single or married.)

And I secretly resolve to finish a secret present. Don't ask.

Some sites to check out:

Friends of Irony

Lovely Listing (Odd Finds in Real Estate)