The Comet of Vomit and Dating Doom

So after my lunch date with Dr. McT a few weeks ago (which was fun, as it always is with him, but I guess he wasn't feeling the sparks) we've gone on as always, me popping in once a week with a dog. Laugh, chat, flirt, hug, and more vague promises to get together again.

As usual, after a long day of rushing about, I had just settled into the car to start the drive to Big City to pick up the dog from Dr. McT's again. And then my tummy started to rumble... I started having hot flashes... Minutes ticked by, and with every passing one I was feeling worse. Searing cramps, nausea, hot flashes, cold flashes. It seemed like an eternity, but I finally made it to the vet's office, and without incident.

Dear god, please oh please oh please do not let me get sick right here, I thought, as I parked and made my way into the waiting room full of people. It was the end of the work day, and crowded with people in suits, harried mothers with screaming kids, barking dogs and screeching birds.

Dr. McT always see me last, so we can have a leisurely chat, and that day was no exception. Finally waved into the exam room, he came in and hugged me as always. We chatted for a few minutes about our common hobbies and interests, but I couldn't focus... my stomach was starting to rebel. I could feel it, the buildup of acid, the burning sensation trying to claw it's way up my throat.



"ADoC, are you okay? You look a little... green," he says, finally noticing I'm not really responding to conversation.

Please don't throw up, please don't throw up, was what I thought. "Hmmm--mmm," was all I could muster, afraid to open my mouth. A french fry found it's way back up into my mouth, and I coughed to cover it as I spit it into my hand, trying to casually tuck it into my pocket without him noticing.

"Okay, I'll go get Dog then, I'll be right back," he says, a look of concern on his face. He leans forward, for another hug, arms wrapped and holding me close. That was all it took, that slight amount of pressure...

Just as he turned away and started to shut the door behind him, it erupted... a long, projectile Comet of Vomit that shot its way across the room and all over the table, wall, and floor. I slumped to my knees, grabbed the trash can and proceeded to empty the day's lunch into it. Heart thumping, head pounding, and sweat dripping off me, I heard his voice in the distance... the clickety click of my dog's toenails coming down the hallway... the chatter of a passing nurse stopping Dr. McT for a moment.

That moment was all I needed. I grabbed paper towels and mopped up the mess the best I could, shoved the trash can and it's evidence in a cupboard, and ran to the sink to gargle with hot water.

He came back in the room with Dog, and talked to me a few more minutes. As he leaned in for one last hug, his cheek touching mine, all I could think was...

Eau de Vomit. Definitely not for dating.

Burning Dinner. (in other words, I've got nothing.)

I spent the day sailing, had a nap, and am now tucked into a chair in my kitchen, with dogs at my feet.

A bottle of wine, only my iPod for company, a magazine (National Geographic, I'm such a dork), and a pot of chicken soup simmering on the stove...

Can't beat that for a Saturday night.

.............

On a sort of related note: fresh parsley on fire smells very similar to pot/marijuana being smoked. Who knew??? Wonder if it has the same effects. Hmmmm.

Note to self: may want to buy a small fire extinguisher to keep in the kitchen.

ADoC, AKA Hippie Mama

Someone described me this morning as a "total Hippie Mama, with just enough of a veneer of normalcy to fool everyone."

Hmmmm... what made them think that, you ask?

Could be this, which is my standard mode of transportation in SmallTown, complete with basket and all:



Which is kinda funny, actually, since I "borrowed" this pic from Treehugger.com

 Or the fact that I make my kids ride their bikes all around town too. Drive Littlest in the car a mile and a half UPHILL to Boy Scouts? Pfffft... cars are for pansies. That boy can ride his bike, dammit.

Could be this, my standard "work" attire when I'm not in a bikini:

Yes, that's a ruffled sundress and flipflops.

Could be that I'm "working" like this these days (among other things):




I might be, possibly, could be having something akin to a mid-life crisis. I've traded cars for bikes, am volunteering at a local dive shop for something to do (my excuse for this is it's better to have something to put on my resume, than a big blank "unemployed still"), am hanging out with the local mountain-biking/scuba-diving/yoga-doing/rock-climbing we-re all a little nuts crowd.

I joke around that as a "forced retirement" this isn't half-bad! My commute, as it were, is a 10 minute bike ride. I have a group of "regulars" that comes by the shop to hang out and swap stories (and try and talk me into a date). I have no stress, no job pressure, no paycheck or 401k, work doesn't come home with me, and most importantly, I have INTERNET ACCESS again!

My brother said he'd fix all my computers, but (as family often does) is taking his sweet ol' time in getting around to me.

No worries...

I get to wear flip flops to work. What more do I need?

Blonde Moment of the week

The weather's been crazy here, so I took advantage of the one warm day we had last week to do some yardwork. After an hour or so of mucking about in the dirt, I realised I'd misplaced my mobile phone.

Searched for it high and low, through the garden shed, the tool boxes, the house and the car. Growing more stressed by the moment, I finally thought to call it from the house phone.

Brrrrrrng, brrrrrng...

No, it wasn't this obvious when I lost it, but yep, there it was.

In Internet Limbo

Oh the joy of having children in the house!

A month ago, I snuck out of the house for a little relaxation at my local coffee shop while the wee ones were supposed to be doing tidu-up. A quick cup of coffee and a chat with a friend, and before I knew it I was back home.

Went to log onto the family computer, but the screen just stared back blankly at me. Then error after error message popped up on the screen until the computer blew it's lid off. I swear, a puff of smoke came out and I heard it give one last sigh before it died.

Computer #1, time of death, 9:32 am.
Children #1, 2 and 3, time of interrogation, 9:33 am.

A few swear words were said, some ears might have gotten a telling off. The children confessed to having been playing on the computer when they weren't supposed to.

Computer #, cause of death, unknown, but suspected children virus.

A week ago, I left the children to their books and toys and once again, snuck out of the house for a quick manicure before my date with Dr. McTwinkly Eyes. Unthinkingly, I didn't shut down my laptop (my last remaining connection with the outside world).

Anyone want to guess what happened?

Yes, indeed, when I returned home all prettied and polished up, my laptop sat forlorn, wheezing and whirring gently as error after error message cluttered the screen.



Computer #2, cause of death, goddamn children unknown, again.

So I've been out of contact with the world for the last week.

Giving into desperation, I hauled all the wee ones with me to the public library today. And here I sit.


Not exactly inspiring.

So while everyone else is out gallivanting about, blog-hopping joyfully, I have 30 minutes a day to quickly check emails, news, bank accounts, and blogs.

It's a sad, sad world...