Accident waiting to happen...

Most people can say things like "I was in a car accident once" or "I had a cast once". To be perfectly honest, I don't think I could even name all my accidents - car, bone, stitches or otherwise.

Lets start when I was two. I was running around, bugging my older brother. My mom told me to leave him alone (according to family folklore) and I didn't- again I was TWO. He was laying on the floor, tripped me, and I went flying into the brick fireplace. Stitches. This was the first of many...

High school - I was on crutches two different times (once for 3 weeks), a broken wrist, a concussion...that's off the top of my head. The concussion - it was a downhill ski accident - plowed into by an out-of-control skier. Was in the hospital and the doctor was asking questions to assess my injury. Name,address...fine could answer. Age, that question threw me. I guess it changes each year. Then he asked "who was president during WWI?" Roosevelt? My mom then told the doctor that it was not the concussion that caused the wrong answer, but that "she is really bad at history". True, but jeez Mom...

The worst accident happened in college. I was on spring break in Mexico. Last night there, on the way back to the hotel. I was in a taxi with the guy I had met and hung out with all week. Suddenly I saw a car hurling through the air right at us. Next memory is waking up and thinking I had no legs. Severely cut my left leg (now referred to as my Bleg - Bad Leg), broke my nose, and broke my wrist. I spent a week in a Mexico hospital, had numerous surgeries. I came home on my 21st birthday on all sorts of Mexican drugs and in a wheelchair - which thankfully I only needed for about 1 week. Two of my friends stayed with (actually one friend, one cousin). It was quite the comedy of errors on the way home. Namely when they searched me, in casts made from paper and 2x4's. Yep, we looked like drug smugglers.

More recently, I had a really bad summer. It was a low point in my life- living with my daughter at my brother's. Transition time, I guess. Anyhow, I just got a new job (yeah!). First off, on my second day, I went to lunch with my department. Fell and broke my wrist. Then, about two weeks later,I got a fever. Then became, um lets call it altered. At one point, I was seeing evil fairies fly out of the wall paper. Tried my best to power through. Doctor thought I had hepatitis - definitely liver functions were being affected. Uck! Then that came back negative. I started feeling a little better, but not much. One night, I was having horrible pains. Finally asked my brother to bring me to the ER. Had emergency surgery on my infected gallbladder and was diagnosed with a tick borne disease.

My daughter has unfortunately inherited this trait of accident proneness. I don't know if it clumseyness or just bad luck. Whatever it is, it is just our lives.

My friends tell me I will be one of those crazy ladies in a scooter, with flags waving, a horn and a bell.

Nails

My entire life, I have been a nail bitter. Gross, I know. I tried everything to stop. Every Lent, I would give up bitting my nails, with varying degrees of success. Sometimes by Easter, I could actually use a bit of polish. By Easter Monday, somehow, they would be short again. So, a few years ago, I was going to a wedding. I had an little black sleeveless dress, a blackwrap, and a very unactractive purple cast (more on my accident proneness later). What is a girl to do? I needed something to draw attention away from my cast. Ah Ha! Fake nails...

Now, I had never, in my 30 something years, been into a nail salon. No mani/pedis for me, ever. I made my daughter tag along and set out. I walked in, said I wanted some fake nails put on. Who knew there were so many choices? Finally, after some confusion on my part, I settled on acyrlic nails, with a deep red color (had to match my funky purse). One hour later, I walked out a happy girl. Having never had nails before, I could barely function at the simplist tasks - getting keys out, puting on lipstick, lighting a smoke, and don't even get me started on going to the bathroom...

A year and a half later, I faithfully go to the salon every tree weeks to get my nails touched up, have a made friend in Ling, and discovered the beauty of a pedicure. Every women and man needs to experience the relaxing effects of the pedi - I even treat my teenage daughter to them (great bribe, by the way).

Reason 742 why I love living in a city, where we can walk to get our nails done (cheap rates too), grab a bite to eat, browse a used book store and say hi to friends.

Suebonics

As many people spend their days, I am in Cube World. I don't mind it, as I am social by nature. We spend much of the day talking to each other and listening to each other's conversations. I am pretty open and really do not care what my co-workers overhear. Can't say whether they like to hear it or not...Anyhow, my point in all of this is that conversations often turns to food - what everyone is making for dinner, etc...So today,I called my daughter to have her make some rice for tonight's dinner, "Chipotle" style burritoes. As I hung up, I hollered to my coworkers that "I know I misprounced it!!!" You see, I have my own way of speaking, that was dubbed years ago as "Suebonics." What I really said was cha-polt-te. My brain just does this on many words. September has no p...breakfast has no k...and today I was told that hearse (Michael Jackson inspired consversation) is not hearst. Side note on Michael Jackson - it was his funeral today and the best part was a high school class mate who works for one of the big cable news networks kept a running commentary on her facebook. Favorite comment of the day "what, no candle in the wind?"

Off to zest some limes...

Firsts

This is my first post for Curse the Alarm. I realize that this is really only exciting for me. Just like I realize that usually I am the only one that finds myself funny. I spend a lot of time with two of my friends that I have know since high school (very Minnesota). Why I am mentioning this is that the guy friend always says that in a group of 3, there is a smart one, a funny one, and the Ho. I like to think I am the smart one, wish I were the Ho, so that leaves the funny one.

I think my humor comes from being the youngest in a typical Irish family. Lots of kids, church at least once a week, and dinners that last two hours. If I wanted to be heard, first I had to be loud, then I had to keep their attention. Worked sometimes, other times I was dubbed "Princess Puberty."

Laughter has gotten me though many things in life, including the last years of dealing with Jackass (JA) - which is my ex husband. We were marrried young, had a lovely marriage, one child and then he became a cliche. Affair with his assistant, embezzeled money, went to jail. Really, a lot of laughs can be found in these situations. Such as the time my friends and family were helping me move and we kept looking in boxes for "missing" money. No such luck. Although a found a finner and a pack of cigs in his jacket pocket. Score!

So, I was driving home from a holiday weekend "Up North" and saw a very odd man on a motorcycle. He was wearing very short shorts and a helmet. That was ALL. He also had a heater hanging from his mouth and a drink in his hand, sporting a nice tan. I swear to you, I thought he was naked until I got next to him. Clearly he has his priorities straight...

It has been a long day and I really am not looking forward to that alarm clock tomorrow morning...