Thursday, April 26, 2012

Boob-pocalypse averted.

Well lambwhores, today was the big day. My poor D's/DD's (depending on the day because I'm apparently a freak) were squished into a really intimidating twirly whirly machine. Let me just start by saying that I should absolutely know better than to assume anything will go according to plan for me because it never has. Why would this be any different? So, let's break it down.

I got off of work at 2 and thought I should just head over knowing I had to get over to Duluth, go through some construction, find a fucking parking spot, and go to my OB to get my actual order, which I then had to go across the street to the Breast Center. I figured I'd get there early, have time to read, and all would be good.

Not so. The problem with only going to my OB once a year is that I forget where to turn because I turn based on landmarks, not street signs, and so when all of a fucking sudden there's a Walgreens in the middle of my route I'm all like whoa. I figure it out and am pleasantly surprised they also paved the road because it was pretty bad before. I park into the first lot which is free, but now has all these special signs saying physical rehab parking ONLY or you'll get towed. I parked, had a mental argument with myself for a minute, and then decided I'll get towed because that's my luck, and so I had to leave that lot (tricky when everything is a one way street) and get into the paying ramp.

I walk over to the OB office and I see they've also re-decorated and it no longer looks straight out of the 80's, which probably explains the price hike in services. But whatever, the front desk lady is WAY nicer than the old one so I'll take it. She gets me an order and I see her hesitate when she writes "baseline" on it and she was going to ask, but decided not to, and gives me the form.

I take it and hop on my merry way across the street to the hospital where the Breast Center is and go right on it. Super nice lady at the desk there, obviously new and she's older (like maybe in her 60's), and she's getting me all squared away. It takes her 40 minutes to get my insurance card scanned in and my address entered but she's really nice and is trying to reassure me it'll only hurt for a second. I know she's lying, but she's already struggling with the scanner so I don't want to kill her buzz.

After we're done, I sit down and this nurse comes out to tell me that yeah... they don't do baselines for people under 40. (Something the fucking scheduler could have said on Monday when I called because she asked my date of birth) This meant I had to go back to the OB office to see a nurse practitioner to verify that I indeed, should be getting a mammogram. So I run down the hall, across the street, down the street, into the building and down to the lower level. Fortunately, I get in almost immediately with an NP I've never seen and she turns out to be absolutely amazing and hysterical. We get on perfectly and she thinks this whole thing is nuts, which I agree. So, she does the whole health history thing and then proceeds to feel up my boobs. I learn a few things:

1. She says I have really amazing boobs. Normally this would be awkward, but she seemed genuinely in awe of them. They are as symmetrical as boobs can be on the outside.

2. I have very dense boobs and I'm very symmetrical on the inside as well. She said it's really kind of unusual how completely even my boobs are. I crack a joke about how I have a thing about even all of the time and how I can say my OCD is literally through and through. She bursts out laughing.

3. I also have what is labeled as fiber cystic breast disease. Which... is kind of nothing to panic about it just means that the reason my boobs are sore ALL of the time is because they literally are very dense. These suckers are solid. She also said, "Well, your next stop should be less fun. Good luck." Which is kind of alarming?

She sends me back to the Breast Center.

Once I get there, the front desk lady is much more efficient getting me in. I get called in fairly quickly (it's about 3:45 at this point) and i get the whole run down about undressing from the waist up, cleaning your armpits so you have powder or deodorant on, and then waiting.
I had a good hair day and the gown makes me look fat. Unfortunately, I tried to get pictures of the machine but literally, it's DARK in there so nothing turned out. Sad face. But at least you got a picture of me, right?

So we go in and the lady who does the actual mammogram is in her 50's and is remarkably nice. Actually, every person in the Breast Center was so unbelievably nice. I must have looked petrified and she tried really hard to calm my nerves. Then she sees my file and sees the whole "her boobs are dense and sore all of the time" note and flat out says, "Oh honey, I'm sorry to be the one to do this to you. Just take some Advil when you get home." Guess what? That's the worst possible thing to say to a person who's about to pop the boob crushing cherry.

I step up to the machine and she tells me they take three pictures per boob and I'll be hugging the machine. She flat out says normally people just feel a slight pinch but mine is probably going to hurt more because it'll take more pressure to flatten my boob, and to just do the best I can. To be honest, I came at it with the approach that I pushed two babies out my vagina, I've got this shit. I also realized I have no problem being topless. Maybe it's the setting, but I realized I have never gotten squeamish having to take my shirt and bra off at any doctor visit. Even the tech was taken aback at how I was like, whipping my boob out eager to get this done with. She probably thinks I'm some Girls Gone Wild slut. Awesome.

We start the test with my left boob and squishing it down from top to bottom. No problem. I'm wondering at this point why people tried to scare me. Fucking asshole jerks. Ten seconds, and we're on to the side picture number 1. This one pulls in some the muscle around your boob. Let me be clear- this hurts like a mother fucker. I'd rather be gang raped with a spatula than have that happen again. I made the mistake of looking down and to see your boob get THAT flat? It is horrifying. I hear the beep and start breathing again, not realizing I had even stopped. The tech eyes me up and reminds me I actually cannot pass out in here, so to keep breathing. Side boob picture number 2 is not as bad, but it's painful. Then I get to switch boobs and feel more comfortable with how to hang onto the machine. Again, the top to bottom squish? No big deal at all. Side pictures? I yelped with my right boob. I also teared up and hyperventilated. The second side boob squeeze was worse on this side and I may have swore. The poor lady looked mortified but it's not her fault my boobs are so fucking dense.

The radiologist assistant tech looked at them quick and said nothing obvious jumped out at him. PHEW! I got to get dressed and leave. I pretty much ran out of there. Even a few hours later, you'd think I'd feel at ease but I don't. In fact I feel more stressed out now than I did before and I was fairly stressed before. I should get a letter in about ten days with more detailed findings. I also have to go onto a new birth control to help alleviate boob pain but was told basically, learn to live with it or have boobs removed. I'm going to live with it, in case you were worried about my boobs.

So.. your brave Lambwhore Leader did it. I am now wearing a sports bra because my boobs fucking HURT. Jackson jumped onto me when I got home and I know I teared up. Then I banged my right boob into the door frame, which hurt like a mother. So yeah. It's done. The girls were photographed in all their glory and they are apparently just about perfect. Which, obviously. Look at their owner.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

I'm about to get all Blair Witch in this bitch.

So, if you are my friend in real life you have heard my stories about Lillian. I don't know Lillian personally, and I bet she was a nice and feisty woman in her day, but the bitch is creepy me out. And before I get into this, let me just be clear- I'm a fan of old people. I like them, they are all right in my book. I'm not even against dead people, I mean- we all die, I don't think death should be something that makes you not like a person. But Lillian is creeping me out and now I think she has some friends.

First off, who is Lillian? Lillian is this lady who owned my house a long time ago. For whatever reason (she either died or she went to a nursing home to die), she sold the house to some do-it-yourself Menards employee who absolutely should not be a home improvement store employee because based on his work here, he is incompetent and maybe mentally handicapped. Anyways. So, she sold the house and when we were at the house closing as we were buying it, we had two conversations with the guy:

1. The toilet apparently "fell through the ceiling" at some point, though he is pretty sure he had fixed it. I almost shit myself because A) I had eaten Taco Johns right before and I was five months pregnant and B) not only did we not know that before we just signed our lives away but we had a very thorough home inspection because of the obvious things we knew that were wrong with the house. (Update- it turned out he was wrong, he just never installed the toilet correctly, which is why it was uneven. Idiot.)

2. Oh yeah, the house is haunted.

Now, when we moved in we really didn't notice anything. Everything was FINE. Then we started putting the addition to the house on and things got weird. We'd hear someone walking around upstairs, we'd actually see her in the living room at the base of the stairs, we have seen her sitting in a chair (the chair was like a ghost too, not like she was on our chair) looking out the window in the living room, etc. We've see cupboard doors do weird things, you get a weird feeling in the house sometimes, all kinds of stuff. Now, as far as we know only Matt and I have experienced these things. It always flares up when we do any kind of work on the house, except when we did the cubby hole- but I think that's because we were restoring a part of the house to how it used to be.

When Olivia was two we moved her into her "big girl room" because I was pregnant with Jackson so we would need the smaller room for the nursery. It made sense because then I wouldn't have to rearrange furniture, etc. Well, the room Olivia went into was our old room which was previously the master bedroom. Also, Lillian's room. I would put her to bed and hear odd things on the monitor but really, thought nothing of it. Now, Olivia has always been scared of the dark and really a shitty sleeper since the day she was born so I just assumed it's an Olivia thing. I have a freak daughter and this is something that will be endearing to her future spouse someday. I remember her telling me once when she was two or three that the "old lady sings" to her or talks to her and that's why she doesn't sleep. Again, we had a plan for her to tell the old lady that it was her bedtime and she needs her beauty sleep. For awhile, this seemed to work.

Until tonight.

At bedtime, Olivia was kind of hysterical. She doesn't want her door shut, she wants her mini blinds open, the closet shut, a flashlight and a night light. Basically, it comes down to the fact she sees "big white blobs" and they are scary. So I ask her how big they are (thinking maybe it's a light shining from the street, a shadow, a reflection, something) and she says they are like people. She said yesterday she woke up and there were people in her room. So she's asking me if I lock the doors and could I hear if someone came in the house or not.

Not even kidding you, I'm fucking freaked out.

Never mind the fact that I am terrified of the dark (not so much when I'm sleeping, but I don't like walking around in the dark no matter where I am) myself. The last few nights I have been up later than usual reading books while Matt snores and after I'm done reading, I have to pee. So I get up and have to turn all the lights on as I go to the laundry room to pee, and on my way back? I run as fast as I can and jump into the bed. What makes the last week or two different is that on my way back to my room (which is not a long distance at all), the back of my neck goes cold and the hair on my body stands up. I am now terrified in my own house. But I think about it, I was in Chicago and walked around our room in the dark and I was fine. I've walked around my mom's house in the dark and I'm fine. But every time I am in my house alone, dark or not, I feel creeped out. Oh!!! And I should make mention my cats are even more dysfunctional than usual. Batman especially, he keeps slinking around the house and making weird noises. Stumpy is kind of lazy and extra stupid, but he hissed at absolutely nothing yesterday.


What do I do? I need to tell Lillian it's time for her to go. And take her homeboys with her. Do I have any Ghost Buster readers? Do you have any suggestions for me??

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Finished product/tale of a glutton for punishment.

You want to see the final product of the Great Baseboard Project of 2012, don't you? OK. Here we be:

 It's a really light color carpet so it has truly brightened up my living room paired with the bright apple green and cream walls, white trim. The stairs look actually amazing.
 Doesn't the living room look a million times better???? Mind you, I have no art work or pictures on the wall yet as I'm still struggling with what the fuck I'm going to do with them. If anyone has any interior design suggestions, feel free to step up.
 This is the view if you stand from my kitchen and look towards the door. My sister in law decided last minute our door should be green instead of white, so there we go. We have a little pop of green on that wall now.
 Just ignore the fact my room is a MESS. I have no desk, hence the garbage can and papers on the floor. Plus, this is right when I woke up and I have a problem with making my bed. *Confession*

So the cubby. Oh the cubby. Well, right now it's being used to hold blankets and toys. I have no shelving, no nothing in there, stuff is just on the floor. Basically, I have no progress to report in there. But what I can report on is that when putting toys away this weekend I saw this:
 God mother fucking dammit it all to god damn fucking hell.
 The fruit of my loins, otherwise called my children, wrote all over the fucking wall in the inside of the cubby. Apparently, they thought it was a a chalk board. Olivia blamed Jackson right off the bat and I figured the random scribbles were his. But in that top picture you can clearly see someone is writing out names and words. Fuck me. SO, we're going to paint over it (obviously) and though it's not the end of the world since we haven't painted in there yet, it's still annoying because why??? WHY would they think this was OK? They are on the bad list this week.
 I am most proud of this section of the wall above the cubby. Why? Because not only did I commit to some floating shelves, I actually found cute thingies to put on them. Sure, they are more spaced out than I want, but whatever. I have some cute green things, a picture, a candle, and a weird silver mushroom. But the reason I've waited so long was because I was on the hunt for throw pillows. For some reason, my room doesn't feel complete without two cute pillows on my couch and I refused to settle.
 Until I saw these bad bitches at JCPenney this last weekend. I wasn't even going to go to JCPenney, let alone upstairs to housewares. But I went up thinking I could find some clearance clothes for the kids (fail) and on my way out I saw only two of these. All lonely on a shelf. They practically had a beam of light on them softly calling my name. Never mind one pillow was $26 and I bought two, they MATCH MY ROOM PERFECTLY therefore they are a necessary expense. My only downfall is that was with me during the purchase and almost choked on his gum. But whatever- they match the room perfectly and that means no expense should be spared!


Anyways. Oh! And the best part of it all is that while I was in Chicago and Matt pawned the kids off on his parents for the three days I was gone because it's hard to watch them on your own and do everything like I do and he just can't handle it and I say HA HA HA I am awesome and you are not, he put the baseboards in. Sure, they aren't done correctly but he says I should be happy that he put forth the effort. I know when to pick my battles because.....

The GREAT DECK PROJECT 2012 shall commence. Soon(ish).

Jigga say wha? Yeah, that's right- I am a glutton for home improvement punishment because I have decided that the free decking that has been killing my grass for the last two years needs to make it's permanent home as my deck a reality this year. That, and the back steps are detached from the house and I see an ER visit in our future with a kid if Matt doesn't get this shit rolling. And an ER visit is a hell of a lot more expensive than some decking project.


OK, so how big will this bitch be?
Tee-fucking-dah. It's kind of huge-ish? But it'll be nice! And we have enough to do the entire thing and we just need to buy some screw thingies, railing, and deck block. Oh and to rent a digger thing to dig around the foundation to put insulation in and a pneumatic jack hammer thingie to break up the steps. Which is one super gigantic hunk of stone and cement? It's super old and the neighbor called in the pros to remove it because a regular jack hammer wouldn't do the job. But you know us, we only half ass shit up in here, so Matt is determined to do it himself, which may result in an ER visit after all. But the goal is to get this done by Father's Day.

You're laughing with me, I know you are.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Remember when I found a condom under my carpet?

Yes, I'm sure you all remember the start of the Great Baseboard Project of 2012. In true Strand fashion, we half ass nothing around here and we go big and expensive or we don't start at all.

I have some flooring news. Just hold your panties and bite your lip bitches, WE HAVE CARPET. We have like legit carpet free of stains, smells, contact with a used condom, not falling apart and doesn't leave you feeling like you maybe caught the next plague after walking on it. This carpet squishes between your toes. You see where the vacuum has been. You want to roll around on it all day long even though it used up your entire tax return. You don't even care because it's so glorious and so much more than you thought it could be.

But, before all of that happened, it had to be installed. And oh what a to do that was. I don't think you appreciate the amount of shit you actually own until you try to combine three rooms of shit into one. You have to get creative.
 That was my dining room before my bed and couch were shoved in there. Matt and I moved it all the night before the carpet installers came and holy nightmare. I purged as I went but it just doesn't matter. I also don't recommend that you pack your clothes in first so you can't get to them because you will wear dirty underwear the next day. *The More You Know*.

Then once that was all moved, we started ripping out the old carpet because you got a cheaper install price if you did that. Matt was confident it wouldn't be an issue. He started with the stairs since that carpet wasn't actually attached except for the top stair and maybe one half way down.
 Then he started ripping up everything else up. It was disgusting. We learned several things:

1. The carpet was significantly wet at one point as there was huge stains on the wood floor.
2. The wood floor was in ROUGH shape and Matt had to re-cut a plank that was snapped in half but someone used concrete filler to fix it at one point.
3. The wood was filthy. To say filthy is not even close to what it was like but you know I was in there sweeping and mopping it several times before I went to bed that night.
 So you can kind of see how jacked up the place looked.
Oddly enough, the guy whop put the carpet down didn't use tack strips or whatever, he just stapled the carpet to the floor. Which meant we had to pound in a lot of nails and pull out a lot of staples. We were both exhausted by the time we went to bed, but we had to be up extra early the next day.

I went to work, Olivia went to school, Jackson went to my mom's and Matt stayed home to supervise installation. The guy was so nice and he did a fantastic job. Everything looks so much better, it's really night and day.

The best part? As he was finishing up, Matt and Jackson went to get supper so I stayed back to supervise. The guy said our house felt weird and I just casually say, "Oh yeah, the house is actually kind of haunted? Lillian was probably making sure you didn't fuck up her house." His face was priceless. But he is a general contractor apparently and so I was asking him about my po-dunk front porch which looks like it's been through an earthquake and he said if it were him he'd rip it off and rebuild. Oh awesome. JUST what I want to hear.

But I bet you want to see pictures of the finished product? Well you get that tomorrow. As well as a story about the cubby hole.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The Thirteen

Are you in the mood for a creepy and great book?

The Thirteen by Susie Moloney

Haven Woods is suburban heaven, a great place to raise a family. It’s close to the city, quiet, with great schools and its own hospital right up the road. Property values are climbing, and the crime rate is practically nonexistent.
Paula Wittmore hasn’t been back to Haven Woods since she left as a disgraced teenager. Now she’s returning to care for her suddenly ailing mother, and she’s bringing her daughter and a pile of emotional baggage. She’s also bringing, unknowingly, the last chance for her mother’s closest frenemies . . . twelve women bound together by a powerful secret that requires the sacrifice of a thirteenth.
OK, so this books starts off immediately with a fairly gruesome suicide of a seemingly nice, older woman. You think she's grief stricken over the loss of her husband but no. It turns out she is kind of rebelling against the witch coven she belongs to. Basically, every woman had to make a major sacrifice (the death of a husband, child, etc) and in turn, they are rewarded with beauty and success. Sounds kind of messed up, but hey- who am I to judge? 
I really liked this book, it sucked me in fast and every character has their own of weirdness and the story is good. Honestly, I know it's supposed to be kind of spooky and supernatural, parts of it were sad. I mean, to think a person would take success and beauty instead of a loved one. It's an interesting take on witches and this is only my second book dealing with witches but I really like them and it's an interesting subject to read. 
I will say that probably my only complaint, OK one of them, is that there are so many characters to keep track of. The author switches characters from chapter to chapter and a few times I had to stop and think back about the last time this character had a voice and so, reading this before bed was more challenging than I wanted. I also kind of didn't love Paula, the main character who has come back to Haven Woods. I didn't flat out hate her, but she's one of those really narrow minded characters who don't do well in life and can't figure out that it's because they continually make bad choices. You can deal with it, but you still want to slap her up sometimes. 
Overall? It's a good book if you want to be sucked in immediately and be held there. Susie has a website that you can visit HERE. Also see what other bloggers had to say about this book HERE
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Monday, April 2, 2012

Until Next Time

I'm slowing returning to the world of the living after being sick, but guess what is in it's early stages? A migraine. Thank YOU body of mine for being such a lemon. So while I have a TON to update you on, I'm going to medicate and go to bed but leave you with a book review.

Until Next Time by Amy Lignor

How does a girl choose between the one who steals her heart and the one who owns her soul? Matt and Emily were created for a specific job. Raised and trained as the ultimate angel/warrior team, they are sent down to save, defend, judge and forgive, depending on the 'life' they've been assigned. What they don't realize is that the power of human emotions, such as love, anger, passion and fear can take over even the best of souls, causing them to make mistakes and follow paths that lead to confusion and heartache. When the reason for their training is finally revealed, the angel/warrior team find themselves thrust into a world they know nothing about. Matt takes over the life of Daniel, a young man with a great deal of baggage. Emily becomes Liz, a girl living in a remote village who relies on nothing more than her own strength to survive. A violent storm erupts one night, and framed in the window of Liz's establishment is a frightening face. Let in by the soul of a Good Samaritan, the two visitors bring with them a past full of secrets that could literally change an angel's path and a warrior's plans. From murder to redemption, this angel/warrior team must find a way to keep the faith they have in each other in a world that's ripping them apart.

Has anybody else noticed I seem to have a special spot in my heart for supernatural like books? Because I do and I'm OK with that. I will tell you right off the bat I liked this book not because it's tremendously well written or because the story is that dynamic, but because it's like two stories in one. 

First off you have the Matt/Emily story line and then their story line as Daniel/Liz. You know what they are supposed to do when they leave their angel bodies and come down to their human shells, but the process of going back and forth means they lose their memory and so they have to figure it out. You learn fairly early on what their angel mission is as Daniel/Liz and so you are rooting for them though they mess up. They make human mistakes, sin and all these awful things but what makes that even better is how damn naive they are. Sure, they are angels so they don't know about how crappy us humans can be, so when they experience it first hand, reading how taken aback they are of what life as a human is like, is kind of interesting. 

I've read a few other books along the lines of angels and this comes from a different perspective, which is why I think I appreciated it  more than maybe I would have if I hadn't read any books dealing with angels and such. But I do think this book would be enjoyable and though it's just under 300 pages and a little less than 40 chapters, it is a really fast read. I zipped through this one in a matter of hours on my handy little Nook. 

Buy this book for Kindle, Nook, Smashwords or PDF. If you want to check out Amy's blog you can do that here too. I also invite you to look through some other cool titles at Tribute Books. Happy reading!