2005-04-06 - 8:24 p.m.

Poor, broken me...

So, seriously. I am far too young to be this limpy and pathetic.

My knee has been broken (okay. It's not broken, I've just been saying it is because that's what it feels like when I can't take a step without being in MASSIVE PAIN) now for a few months. In two different places! Today (and most days) it hurts right under my kneecap when I either bend my knee, take a step, or lift my leg. (No, not like a boy dog. Gross. Stop thinking that.) On other days, it hurts on the little tendon on the left rear side of the knee anytime it has to do anything bendy. And no, I don't know if it's really a tendon. I'm not a doctor or a runner or really someone who is that interested in how my body works as long as it does. Which it is not.

My hip (the right one) has now decided to join in on the fun. It's freaking out. I can walk (most of the time, but certain movements make me want to find a syringe with a long, wide needle (the better to transport the drugs!) filled with local anasthetic and jam it into my hip bone. These certain movements would potentially be avoidable except for one. I sit on the chair with my left foot under my right thigh. This position is making my right hip scream for mercy. But I LOVE to sit this way, so I'm just playing the role of the black-masked torturer and listening to the screams. And whining. Because really, I'm not Super Woman.

Oh, sorry, was I boring you?

Probably. As I was boring myself as well. Anyway, I've been doing some things lately that have involved NOT whining about my aches and pains! I found a funny, fairly new blog that I'm enjoying immensely. It reminds me a little of Susie Sunshine which makes me happy! Except for when she writes about really scary haunted schools and I nearly wet my pants with fear!* So go here and do a little reading.

*I'm not good with suspense, whether in movies, tv, or real life. We've covered this. Don't FREAKING SURPRISE ME! Unless it's by bringing home the groceries for dinner like my sweet husband did yesterday. Or with black opal jewelry. But that's it.

No, you can't come over.

In list form, the reasons my house is a complete disaster area:

-In one night, the dog (usually the beautiful dog. Not at the moment) did the following:
....puked bright yellow liquid onto the carpet
....dug a hole in the backyard and brought most of that hole onto the bed
....freaked out at a squirrel outside, spilling the dirt from a houseplant all over a stack of CDs
....ate my favorite (cheap and from Target, but still) shoe
-Nothing is unpacked from the trip to China. I would normally do things like this, but was sick this weekend and the husband is (still, good lord) jet lagged.
-I made big elaborate meals (okay, you got me. Bratwurst then spaghetti) two nights in a row, using nearly all of our cookware.
-If (hypothetically) one were to get back from the grocery store looking all hot and sexy in a Cubs t-shirt and shorts, and if this hypothetical person's husband were to get excited and request a quickie, the two people would be better served putting the dog in the bedroom and using the couch themselves. At least until the groceries are put away. Because this couple's hypothetical dog would have gotten into the groceries and eaten approximately 1 1/2 pounds of beef.
-I was sick, so there are various kleenexes and coughdrop wrappers on selected flat surfaces all over the house.
-The dog, in one of his squirrel-induced rages, knocked down a set of blinds in the front window.

Wow, I think that might be it. But the house is messier than even that makes it seem

You wanted more?

No. I'm tired. And I have to clean. But Mirella is in Chicago! Everyone go say hi and welcome. Make us Chicagoans out to be friendly and all.

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