Insufficient Funds

Yesterday I tried to withdrawal funds from my checking account to pay the nanny. I was told I had insufficient funds. WHAT??? I don't have any money? That's right, the ATM replied. You're flat broke and no money in this machine has your name on it. Don't ask again.

So I walked back to Special K's car (since mine is getting the dent knocked out and repainted) and called to see how many checks had bounced. Four, the man told me. Hmmmm. What's the damage? $224, he replied. Okay. I'll go right home and tell Husband. He'll be SOOOOO excited to hear the news.

Special K is a pro at bouncing checks and told me all about when I should deposit a check to cover my @#* for the next few days. I don't think I've bounced a check for over 15 years. Maybe I've never done it. Luckily the Pro was with me.

Meanwhile, the Scary Storm came last night and dropped a bit of rain and a few gusts of wind on us. In West Texas winds of 50 mph were common. Here a wind gust like that causes absolute panic. But that's because it knocks down every tree within three feet of a power line. So I've had sporadic power at the house today. Where is FEMA when you need them? Do I qualify for disaster relief? I need to pay a few bills and have INSUFFICIENT FUNDS. . .

Gee Your Hair Looks Terrific

I have a great haircut. I think.

Yesterday I went to a new person for my haircut since mine wasn't working. This was stressful since it is really hard for me to find a hairstylist willing to work with my mop. Most stylists tentatively approach my head with a look of trepidation mixed with genuine fear while they reach out to touch the wiry stuff with words like "Gee, your hair sure is thick/coarse/grey/wiry/unruly, isn't it?" Hmmmm, you don't say? I've never noticed. . .

Anyway, Special K and I drove thirty minutes to go to a stylist a patient of mine highly recommended. It took forever to color and cut and I was running so late I had to ask my nanny to let my fav neighb watch the girls for thirty minutes since she needed to leave. And of course on the way out of the parking lot I hit another car. Yes, I have already put two obvious dents in my brand new minivan.

Husband was incredibly nice about it. He has learned that getting mad at me does NOT help. I feel bad enough about it without his comments. So he quietly inspected the damage and suggested I just get it fixed. Easy. I sure like him. . .

He never did comment on my hair.

Which Knees?

I was on call this past weekend when the pager went off late Friday night. The text message said the patient's knee was swollen. When I called her back she told me both her knees were swollen. I wasn't really awake when I asked,

"Wait. Which knees are swollen?"

She hesitated for a second and said "Um. . . the right AND the left?"

Oh, to have an idiot like me as your doctor.

Later Sunday evening Special K (little sis) came home from work and filled Husband and I in on her love life. There she was in her size 2 jeans (which were too big, by the way) and her top which showed off her collar bones, since that's one of her better features. Husband and I were both exhausted and sprawled out on the couch while the girls crawled all over us like ants at a picnic. Anyway, it seems a young man at work has a crush on Special K, but he won't do anything about it except follow her around and tease her. Meanwhile the gang from work went out to a gay bar and the ONE single guy there (who happens to be quite cute) hit on Special K. He then came into her place of work yesterday, which infuriated the Boy With Crush. AAAhhhh, the Drama. As Special K told us this story and expounded on the difficulties of balancing said Love Interests I reflected on what different lives we have. My joy of the day was crawling around after Little Bit playing chase. She loves that game. I hadn't had a shower and my weekend outfit wasn't really flattering. I couldn't remember when I contemplated the Delimnas of my Love Life, or if I ever had any to begin with.

I'm not complaining, though. I prefer chasing Little Bit any day.

Gymbaby

Today I took Toddler to gymnastics. Ooohh what fun we had. When she walked across a balance beam and then slid down a mat into the foam pit I almost wet myself with pride. I have visions of her competing at the elite level and working for the olympic trials in 12 short years. All because she can hang on a bar like a monkey.

I need a life.

I Don't Like Blogs

So Little Sis was sitting on my floor last night while I read our sister's blog. "Have you read E.McPan's blog lately?" I asked.

"I don't read her blog." she replied with a resolute look on her face.

"But it's so funny! She is a riot!"

"Don't you KNOW? I don't like blogs." she huffily replied. "They're just an excuse for people not to have conversations with each other and instead talk into a computer without forming relationships. . . blah blah blah"

I find this comment very interesting coming from a young woman who spends 86% of her time in her room grooming herself or reading a novel or something or other. When she does venture out it's to answer my questions with one word sentences or "I don't know." Sigh. Huff. Eye rolling. The relationships aren't forming too rapidly somedays. Maybe if I email her we'll get somewhere. . .

At least I know I can talk about her all I want on this very public forum. She'll never stoop so low as to read it.

Summer of Slovenly Appearance

Hello Internet World. I am alive and kicking. I've just been busy/lazy/distracted and haven't blogged in a while. Here's the scoop. My very little sister is visiting this summer and it has been a real eye opening experience. She is five feet tall and weighs somewhere between 97 and 99 pounds. The last time I weighed that was in fifth grade. True story.

Anyway, she is very fashion/makeup/beauty conscious and I am not. You would think I would have a thing or two to teach her since she is thirteen years younger than me. Not Happening.

I've discovered I should tweeze my eyebrows, get pedicures for my feet, wax my upper lip and hairy chin, and consider a tan. I cannot for the love of mankind wear horizontal stripes (or wide vertical ones) nor should I wear any heavy fabrics. I've learned to avoid busy material (especially if the background is dark or the print is large) because it just makes me look larger. I need to stop wearing clunky boring shoes and try for a little bit more heel and pointier toe (but not too pointy!). Pants must be low on the hip and dark. No stripes. Not high waisted.

While learning all of these things in the middle of a rather hectic shopping binge last week she finally turned to me and asked "Don't you ever groom yourself?"

I just grunted in my big hairy apelike way and went back to picking ticks out of my hair.

But I am getting better. The other day I picked out a shirt and asked her if it would be okay. "NO!" she shrieked with a big heavy sigh. I slowly went to put it back when she grabbed it and asked "And WHY isn't this one good for you?" in her best most patronizing tone.

"Because the neck line is too high? It's too busy? The grade of fabric is too heavy????" I answered quite desparately.

"Right" she said. Then she waltzed off to another rack of clothes. I was left there sweating. Which one was it? What's the answer? What do I do???


Med school was easier than this.