Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Two Inches and a Bit of Ignorance

I went to a new (to me) salon yesterday for a much needed haircut. My hair had been threatening to band together and gnaw itself off, so I knew it was time. For me, it's always awkward to start a new potential client-professional relationship. You don't know one another so you have to go through the dreaded small talk. What happens if you don't like the results? Can you come back and see a different person? What if the person just bugs you? I think about things way too much.

So our conversation started. And of course it led to where we moved from. She had been to San Diego a few times so I thought it would be nice to talk about home with someone who was at least a little familiar with the place. And then came the inevitable "it's really expensive to live there, huh?" Ha! If she only knew. The conversation went on about things to do: the beach, the zoo, the Wild Animal Park... She continued with, "I bet your kids have been to SeaWorld a bunch of times." I knew where her head was starting to go.

"Actually, no" I said, "It's super expensive so we've only been twice. And the only reason my kids have been to Disneyland is because my in-laws paid for them to go."
"Oh really? Doesn't everyone who lives in San Diego have a lot of money?"
*blink blink*

Yes, and everything in Hollywood is sparkly clean. Everyone in Southern California knows how to surf, is super skinny and drives a convertible. Disneyland is real and the "characters" never go in the back, remove their heads and take a smoke break while talking about which gay bar to hit that night. Yeah, I said it. When we lived in Orange County in a teeny apartment, our neighbor that we shared a balcony and a landing with was Goofy. The Goofy and was as staight as Lombard Street.

"Um, actually no. There's a lot of poverty in San Diego as well." And then she looked at me like I was smoking crack. I couldn't believe that someone who has actually been there only saw the pretty parts and not reality.

"My friend lives in Escondido. That's a really rich area, huh?"
"No, only certain parts, like every city. There's a lot of scary-ghetto parts there, too." But again, she didn't see that part. Which means she went no where near the heart of the city. "The only area that is exclusively wealthy is Rancho Santa Fe." I had to explain where it was and that a few celebrities have homes there. I should have said 'that's where the Heaven's Gate Cult lived' but I didn't.

I left feeling like stereotypes are alive and well. All Californians are rich, all Texans wear stetsons and spurs and all New Yorkers are Italian and say things like "fuhgettaboutit".

And my haircut is uneven. Next!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Not What I Wanted to Hear

Here's the deal. I've been pretty anemic for a while. Like, your body is supposed to store extra iron as a backup when you're not getting enough. It's supposed to be anywhere between 20 and 80. Twenty and eighty what, I'm not sure, but my store number was two. Maybe that would explain why I can take a nap any time of the day and never have any energy to do much of anything. For the first time in, oh, forever, I have a doctor who wanted to know why. So I had some more blood drawn and was ordered to take iron supplements three times a day. My test results came back positive for celiac disease. I never would have guessed. I didn't have any of the typical symptoms other than the anemia. I thought maybe it was a mild case because of the lack of symptoms, but once again my body isn't playing by the rules. Numbers again: under 5 (I don't know 5 what, but stick with me) means no celiac. 5-8 you need more testing but probably have it. 8 and over you have celiac. My number was over 100. Seriously?? I have a serious love of bread, cereal, pasta and all things gluteny. Now I have to change my way of thinking, eating, and apparently digesting. Now I will join the ranks of those irritating people asking what the food has in it because I have "special dietary needs". I give that a big fat raspberry.

So, so sorry

Most of you know that I'm very fluent in sarcasm. I mean, it's my spiritual gift and all. And, well, sarcasm and drama are best friends and I guess drama kinda crept into my last post. Although, it will be dramatic for me. Yes, I was supposed to find out what the heck is going on last Thursday BUT when I went in the lady at the desk told me that my appointment was actually for Wednesday. Don't blame me! They called and told me it was Thursday. I've had to lie in wait all stinkin' weekend, too. So today I have an appointment and I'm hoping to hear some news and I WILL (pinky swear) share it with you as soon as I announce it on TMZ call my husband and my mom to tell them what's up.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010


Tomorrow I may hear some of the saddest news in my adult life. It has the potential to be very traumatic inconvenient for me. I may have to change my entire life some things in my life. I'm going into this with a positive pessimistic attitude because I don't want to hear what has to be said.

So as to not get all worked up (you OR me) I'm going to leave it at that and let you all know what the heck I'm talking about when I find out tomorrow.

Thursday, April 01, 2010


It's been a REALLY long winter. It's been six months of on and off snow and for someone like me, that is five months and three weeks too long. At first it was kind of cool, seeing the flakes flitting down. The kids were in awe. I was even a little bit in awe. And then I got over it in a big way. A blizzard? In October? For my entire life, October has meant hot, dry winds and clear blue skies. Not a blizzard. Unless we're talking Dairy Queen.

I'd had my fill. The reports of snow on the news got annoying. I couldn't see my beautiful yard because it was covered with that evil white stuff.

Now, spring is starting to show its face and I just want to kiss it! My grass is starting to come back. There are buds of future leaves on my aspen trees. The tulip bulbs have sprouted and I'm elated.
To give myself a little push and a little color I bought some seeds. Now, if I can actually plant them AND keep them alive, that will be a miracle.

I've never been this happy to see spring. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this Colorado life.