That Time I Broke my Clavicle

It was a beautiful day in Ocean Grove, NJ and I was having the time of my life! I was working as a youth ministry intern for the summer and was enjoying an afternoon at the beach with my students and co-workers.

Now, if you’ve read any of my previous posts you’re aware of the fact that I’m not what you’d call athletically “gifted”. I also tend to be rather "clumsy" and "unlucky". So, while all the students went out to surf and boogie board throughout the summer, I spent my time safely wading at the shoreline, letting the ocean bury my feet. WILD, I know!

Students had been trying to coax me into body surfing with them all summer. Of all the ocean activities it was by far the "tamest and easiest to learn", they would say. “All you had to do was wait for a wave to come and then flatten your body out like a board. Then, you enjoy a blissful ride to the shore! It’s easy!” Blissful they said, easy they said! HA!

But, I resisted. I knew better. I knew my lack of athletic prowess. So, I said no day after, week after week.

But this day, this beautiful day in Ocean Grove I looked out on the water and saw gentle waves. I became hopeful. I became an idealist. I forgot who I was. Just then students said they were going out to body surf. I decided to join them. Like an IDIOT.

I didn’t want to lose my nerve so rather than wading out in the shallow end for a while, I quickly swam out to deep waters. The kids began coaching me on what to do and when exactly to ride a wave. Soon, the “perfect” wave was nearing us. All of us prepared for it. They counted me down, “3…2…1…GO!!!!”

I paddled, paddled, paddled and then made myself as stiff as a board, my arms shooting out in front of me as straight as could be, my legs tight together, my toes were pointed, even my face was clenched.

And just like that I was off!! Off like a ROCKET! At the time I thought must have reached speeds between 60-70 mph (looking back they were more like 3-4). But regardless of the speed I was one with that wave, with that ocean, with the universe really. The children were right, this was blissful!!!

And while lost in this bliss I failed to realize how close to the shoreline I was getting. I also didn't know that there was a harsh riptide at the shoreline. Should have waded in slowly!!!! 

Suddenly…BAM! My perfect, peaceful wave collided with the shore’s riptide and immediately I started doing against-my-will-summersaults. Head over feet, head over feet all the while salty, fire burning ocean water rushing up my nose, while my hair brushes the bottom of the ocean floor picking up sand like a Dustbuster.

I’m told now the best thing I could have done was relaxed my body so when I finally did make impact with the floor of the ocean it wouldn’t have hurt as badly. Welp, I wish I would have known that THEN cause instead all I did was FREAK.OUT. and stay stiff in my newly acquired ball shape as I tumbled and tumbled. I finally landed HARD, upside-down on my left shoulder in only about 2 feet deep of water. And dang if it didn’t hurt like CRAZY.

As I stood up in a daze, I knew 2 things. First the left side of my body hurt like the dickens and second, that all of my long hair was piled on top of my head with half of the world’s sand and probably a few sea crabs buried in it. I looked to my right and saw two of my co-workers, Nate and Nick, making their very best attempt not to show me they were laughing at me. (I can’t imagine how hilarious it would be to see me triumphantly sailing in only to tumble 50 times and emerge looking like swamp-thing).

I started dragging myself over to them walking like I was practicing to be a zombie film extra. I was becoming more aware of other things I was doing including making bizarre, almost tribal like, sounds to express my pain. They were actually very comparable to the newswoman who fell while stomping grapes, (if you haven’t seen the video, here it is…you need to...)

Nate and Nick met me halfway and asked if I was ok. I’m confident when I say all of us (myself included) thought I must just be being a baby, but this nagging pain just wouldn’t quit, so they took me to the lifeguard.

This poor unsuspecting lifeguard didn't know what he was getting himself into when he went to examine me. He barely touched my shoulder and I promptly screamed bloody murder directly into his ear. At that point, this diva got a free ride to the hospital in her own personal ambulance! OH HAPPY DAY!

My bff and co-worker Kristy rode with me and the guys followed closely behind. Although, not that closely, they stopped at Burger King on the way. (Seinfeld episode where Elaine buys Jujyfruit before going to the hospital anyone? Anyone?)

The fruit of shame

I got x-rayed and then waited in a small room with Kristy. Nate and Nick were there too….......finishing up their fries.

Were they worth it? (Yeah, they probably were)

Soon the doctor came in and delivered some surprising news. He hung the x-ray and said “You broke your clavicle” also known as a collar bone. I couldn’t believe it!!! He then explained I’d need to be in a sling for 8-12 weeks. I needed to keep my left shoulder and entire left arm as still as possible. A SLING?!?! 8 WEEKS!?!?! NO LEFT ARM!?!?!

Ouchers!

WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE SHE'S HAVING THE TIME OF HER LIFE IN HER SLING?!  AM I MISSING SOMETHING?

“How will I text?” I gasped (literally that’s the first thing I said). Nate helped me see that the full magnitude of this news went beyond social media restraints, “um Paige how will you drive?!” Then all the tasks that I would not be able to do one handedly started flooding my mind…. driving, texting, dressing and undressing myself, cooking, washing my hair, unbuttoning my pants to go to the bathroom (crohn's anyone?!?!) NOPE, couldn’t do any of it one handed!!! The pain of this break suddenly felt worse so they gave me some pain medicine, Vicodine, to take for the next few days. I popped the first pill immediately.

Feeling sorry for me, Kristy, Nate and Nick, being the good friends that they are, decided to take me out to my favorite restaurant, to lift my spirits. That’s right, this one-winged-wonder got to go to THE OLIVE GARDEN. WAHOO!!!!

heaven on earth?

I don’t know if it was the Vicodine or the fine Italian establishment, but I was feeling prrrrrretty good again! I ordered my standard fettuccini alfredo and nibbled on some of those delightful breadsticks.

However, somewhere between ordering my food and it arriving I started feeling not so good. I started feeling really bad actually. By the time the food came I felt so sick that we asked for our food to go.

On the ride home I must have been looking kinda green because I was handed a plastic bag shortly after we left the best restaurant in the world. A bit later into the car ride I felt sooooo sick to my stomach, that, you guessed it, I vomited. My heaving sounds were met with dead silence from the car’s passengers. Only after I had finished was that awkward silence broken with the automatic windows rolling down to air out the car. (I still laugh every time I think of this moment!)

I was now in even more pain because I had moved my shoulder while heaving. So when I got home I took more Vicodine. Unfortunately, the night did not improve my situation. Apparently, one upchuck in the car was only the beginning. I threw up the E-N-T-I-R-E night.

I kept involuntarily moving my shoulder when I would ralph adding to my pain. I kept trying to drink water, but I couldn’t keep anything down. By the next morning I was so exhausted and so dehydrated that Kristy’s saintly mother, who lived close to Ocean Grove, picked me up and took me back to the ER.

Representative of my emotional state by the morning

Day 2 in the ER was nice! I spent the day with Kristy’s mom while I got pumped full of IV fluids and I learned something new about myself…I’M ALLERGIC TO VICODINE… hence the endless cycle of me tossing my cookies after popping a pill! I got set up with some different pain meds and was sent home!

The most eventful parts of my "broken collarbone journey" was over, but there were hilarious events to follow. Like 1) me doing my hair one handed.  2) Starting grad school 2 weeks later in my sling and my classmates thinking I was into extreme water sports when I told them how I broke myself. 3) Kristy and I becoming even closer friend when she had to help me change my clothes.

Me and Kristy during better, less scaring days for her that summer

Today all that's left is a bump on my collarbone where it healed. It serves as a reminder to stay firmly planted on the shoreline letting the ocean bury my feet.

An actually (obviously stolen) shot of Ocean Grove, NJ! Still one of my favorite places in the whole world!

Ode to running shoes

Let me set the scene for you...

July, 2008

Burlington, Vermont

Downtown

Shopping with my dear friend Sarah

Me: meandoring, enjoying the day

Sarah: also enjoying the day, but on a mission, a mission...TO PURCHASE RUNNING SHOES. 

See, Sarah, an avid runner, had worn out her old running shoes. (A concept I still can't completely wrap my unathletic little mind around). Luckily for Sarah there was a store downtown that specialized in shoes for runners.

As we went in, I didn't immediately suspect that this store was very different from typical shoe stores. I looked around and saw just plenty of shoes and your standard friendly sales associates. Nothing threatening at all! Lulled into a false sense of security, I thought, "well, what would be the harm if' I just tried on a pair of these fancy-shmance running shoes with Sarah!"

BIGGEST. MISTAKE. EVER. 

Sarah and I put on the shoes, tied up the laces, and then I strutted around for her as we giggled at my wanna-be-athletic attire. One of the sales associates (we'll call him Joe, I can't remember his name) came up to Sarah and me. We all exchange names and pleasantries. Then Joe says, "Ok, now that you've got them on. It's time to test them out."

Test them out!?! What?! What does that mean???!!!

Well, I'll tell you what it meant, it meant getting on a treadmill and running in them for a few minutes to get a "feel for the shoes" or for me "lowered self esteem". Sarah got on the treadmill first and easily jogged for the few minutes Joe required. 

Then, I got on...

He started me out at a pretty slow pace, then, he gradually increased the speed. The whole time, I'm just concentrating on not breathing heavily. (I did the whole closed mouth just breathing out of your nose thing. You know, because if I dared open my mouth it would start gasping for air. Instead, I'm just doing extremely forceful nostril breathing. Classy.)

All the while Joe is unknowingly trying to ruin my cover as "the mighty avid runner" by asking me all these stupid questions like, "how do the shoes feel?", "Can you tell the difference between THESE shoes and your typical pair of running shoes?" "How's this pace feel?", etc.

Trying not to reveal my low level physical abilities I try to just bark out answers as quick as possible, "Great", "Awesome", "Cool", "Fun" "Neat"! But he knew, oh he had to have known. By the end of my run I was breathing like nobody's business. Seriously just gasping and coughing for air. Pathetic.

When I regained slightly normal breathing I thought, at least this ordeal is over. THINK AGAIN. IT'S ONLY JUST BEGINNING...

Joe says, "Let's take a look at both of your runs on the BIG SCREEN." That's right, the BIG SCREEN." There, in the middle of the store (and I don't know how I had missed it earlier) was huge 50 inch TV. Turns out, the entire time we had been running, Joe had been video taping us from the calves down in order to "check our run". WHAT WAS THIS STORE??!?! HELL?!?!

First, they put up Sarah's run. Great technique. Great shoe. Great fit. Great. Barf. Then, they put up my run.  (FYI, the calves down isn't the most flattering shot of me. WHO KNEW?!?!) I'm obsessing over how mortifying this whole experience is when I glance over and see Joe. He's studying my video with the most perplexed look on his face. Then he turns to me and says, "wait here." 

Joe leaves and comes back with two more salesmen. They all start watching my tape. They are whispering to each other. Then, they play my run in SLOW MOTION. I kid you not, my run is being projected on a huge screen for everyone in the store to see, in. slow. motion. Even though there was no sound, it was as if you could hear this thunderous "boom, boom, boom" each time one of my feet hit the ground.

The sales associates continue whispering to each other and then Joe turns to me. He looks EXTREMELY, almost gravely concerned. "Paige... I'm sorry to tell you this... but... you run... WRONG."

Wrong? How is it even possible to run "WRONG"?!?!?!

Joe continues "You see" and he begins pointing to my feet on the screen (which is still playing on repeat for all customers in the store, mind you), "when you run, your heels never hit the ground. You are running only on your toes. This is very rare and is very damaging to your joints, back, and long term health."

I seriously can't believe any of this is happening. I just try to play it off, "oh, well, I don't run THAT much only on occasion (lie, try never) so it's not THAT big a deal."

"Well, even if you only run occasionally you should really get this checked out," Joe explains.

My mind: Checked out?!?! WHAT?!?!!

Joe: "Physical therapists could really help you relearn how to run."

My mind: Physical therapists?!?!?! What?!?!?!

Joe: "Luckily, there's a physical therapy practice right next door. Let me take you right over! They may have openings!"

I'm literally stunned with silence and before I know it. I've been escorted next door to a physical therapist who sets me up with a free appointment to work on my run.

Unbelievable. I mean, I knew I wasn't athletic, I KNEW IT, but to be told I run so wrong, to the point of requiring THERAPY...well I think that's almost impressive.

I never did go for that free appointment. I was too full of shame. Instead, I spent the summer retelling this story and subsequently doing short sprints to show friends just how bad my run was. Friends would remark, "oh my gosh you DO run WRONG! How did I never notice that! It's hysterical!"

I sometimes wonder, what if I had gone to that free appointment. What if I had learned "how to run", maybe I would have finally found my niche in the sports world. I guess I'll just never know...

Lemme tell y'all 'bout the south

I've been in THE SOUTH for 10 weeks now and since I've never studied abroad, consider this my first experience in a "foreign land".

Yes, Georgia is still part of the United States. 

Yes, everyone here speaks English (kind of). 

Yes, I'm still in a college town!

...but trust me...being in the south....I'm not in Kansas anymore. Well, Pennsylvania...you know what I mean (I just really wanted to use that Wizard of Oz reference.) But in truth, many things are still the same, many things are different, and many things need to change (evil laugh).

And now I'd like to tell you about...

MISCONCEPTIONS OF THE SOUTH

MISCONCEPTION #1: EVERYONE LISTENS TO IS COUNTRY MUSIC AND ONLY COUNTRY MUSIC

As a music lover I had a fear of moving here and being subjected to the tunes of Satan aka COUNTRY MUSIC 24/7! It is the stereotype you know! But praise the Lord I have found that there are plenty of radio stations offering the same radio trashy pop music I'm used to in the NORTH! 

Don't get me wrong there are a ton of deceived people here who like country, but these people also exist in Pennsylvania. So, poor music taste prevails throughout the US...win/win? lose/lose.

I loath, I loath.

MISCONCEPTION #2: EVERYONE IS STUPID

I wish my simple blog post could put this stereotype to rest. Maybe it's just the people I've met, but people are annoying me with how smart they are. Prejudices from society/television told me I was going to have some kind of intellectual edge on these people. Instead, I've recently been confronted with my own limited IQ as I falsely explained the location of the state of Kentucky (true story: it's near Ohio! WHO KNEW?! yeah...everyone except me...shut it!)

Well what do you know!

Give them some credit! People in the south are intelligent, I mean it's not like they're from West Virginia.

MISCONCEPTION #3: EVERYONE HAS A SOUTHERN ACCENT

Well, golly gee, ain't that ther a crazy idear! Now, I can't speak for the rest of the south, but will say that in Athens, Georgia a lot of people speak with a Standard American English dialect, the same dialect found in Pennyslvania (yeah the Speech Therapist in me has been dying to come out!)

A lot of people grew up in cities like Atlanta! And most people from Atlanta and its surrounding burbs don't have accents! What a revelation!

THINGS I HATE ABOUT THE SOUTH

HATES #'s 1-101: COCKROACHES

OH. MY. WORD. Cockroaches. Now, in the north, if you see a cockroach in someone's house it's pretty much a sign the place needs to be condemned, torn down, lit on fire, and the ashes disposed of in some black hole.

I can count very few times I saw cockroaches in my childhood. And when I did see them they were small and they didn't induce cold sweats or horror movie-esque screams. 

But in the South! OH. MY. WORD. It's like the heat gave these cockroaches GIANT, UGLY, SUPER POWERS! 

They're HUGE! HUGE I TELL YOU! They're faster, they're harder to kill and the worst part...it's like a normal thing for you to have them in your house from time to time. AHHHHH!!!! You can't escape them! They're in rich people's houses, hotels, classrooms, you name the place a cockroaches are there have some kind of giant, ugly party!

Let me paint you a picture of the first time I saw a Georgia cockroach: 

I'm sitting in my apartment, minding my own business, just chatting with my new roommate Chelsea. It's one of my first few days in Georgia so I'm just getting my feet wet in southern culture. We're mid conversation when Chelsea casually says "Oh, darn look, there's a cockroach" and points behind me.

Picture this next part slowed down like in the movies (cause that's how it felt): (The sound track to this is just my heart beating and labored breathing.) I slowly turn my head. I see...10 feet away from me, climbing up the blinds..............THE BIGGEST FREAKING BUG IN THE WORLD!!! I stand to my feet and do the only natural thing there is to do...I scream BLOODY MURDER. I scream for an embarrassingly long period of time, hands at my face, then holding my hair as if I'm witnessing the most horrific sight in the world (and I AM!).
I won't even go into the killing process...it's just too painful to relive (for me, not the cockroach).

This is pretty much an actual size ratio of Georgia vs Pennsylvania Cockroaches.
PS: Who would ever be a cockroach for Halloween???

HATE #102: EVERYONE CALLS ME MA'AM


I'm sorry but did I age 50 years without knowing it?? Cause last time I checked "ma'am" is reserved for the elderly. At least that's how it is in the north, but here in the south every female is called ma'am, but I hate it!

HATE #103: EVERYONE IS SO FRIENDLY


Ok, I know I'm a jerk for saying this, but can't a girl just go into a grocery store, buy her food and leave without having to have a 10 minute conversation about NOTHINGNESS?!?!

It never fails, I'm in one of those antisocial kind of moods and shopping. I'm in the dairy section just trying to find my favorite yogurt when someone comes up next to me...

Stranger: "Hi there! Are you looking at yogurt?"
My evil thoughts: of course I'm looking at yogurt I'm standing right here STARING AT THEM!
Me: "Yes I am."
Stranger: "Oh me too, you know what's really good?" (*expectant pause*)
My evil thoughts: I don't care. I just want to get my yogurt and get out of here.
Me: "No, what?"
Stranger: "This new Activia blueberry flavored yogurt, it's fantastic"
My evil thoughts: ok, bye!
Me: "Oh really? Oh ok, I'll have to think about it."
Stranger: "well do you like blueberries?"
My evil thoughts: If I just run away then I'll be FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: "well, in some things."
...And the conversation continues...

The yogurt of friendship

THINGS I LOVE ABOUT THE SOUTH

LOVE #1: THE WORD Y'ALL


While I don't use it a lot because I don't think I really pull it off, this word is very functional! Rather than saying "you guys" we northerners should consider embracing the "y'all"!

LOVE #2: THE FOOD


Surprise, surprise I love food! But seriously, goodness, gracious I'm going to roll back for Christmas Break at this rate...the food is incredible. Incredibly fattening, mind you, but incredibly delicious as well! Fried green tomatoes, fried okra! Comfort foods like mac and cheese, fried chicken, dumplings, biscuits, etc.. etc., etc.!!! I'm drooling just thinking about it! Seriously, being here is killing my whole stance on loving chain restaurants, cause the mom and pop places around Athens are LEGIT!!!!!

2,000+ calories of happiness

LOVE #3: EVERYONE IS SO FRIENDLY

You're thinking, what? she just said she hated this...true! BUT, do you ever have those moods where you're out and about and you're just a little lonely and you kinda just want to make that human connection? Well, that's the socially acceptable practice in the south! So reach out to your brothers and sisters and have a chat! HERE'S AN EXAMPLE:


Me at the grocery store:
I'm looking at yogurt and glance next to me an see a sweet elderly woman!
Me: Hi there ma'am! Are you trying to decide on a yogurt too?
A conversation ensues!
My happy thoughts: The south is the best I'll never be lonely again! INSTANT FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THINGS I'M GOING TO CHANGE ABOUT THE SOUTH

CHANGE #1: YEAH, IT'S CALLED A "SHOPPING CART" NOT A "BUGGY"

Buggies are for Amish people, shopping carts are for grocery stores. GET IT RIGHT! (BOOSH!)

Buggy

Not a buggy

CHANGE #2: I WAS TOLD ARMADILLOS CARRY LEPROSY...SURELY, THAT'S NOT OK!

While I'm not against armadillos in general (they are creepy though so I'm not really going to put up a fight if someone commits armadillo-cide someday.) I heard recently that they can carry leprosy! LEPROSY (look it up i'm not joking!) That's so crazy it's almost kinda cool, but more-so sad/weird/dangerous. Let's help these roadkill rodents out!

"I want to be your friend...and kill you!"

CHANGE #3: MASS EXTERMINATION OF ALL COCKROACHES

I know that these awful, awful creatures have apparently been around since prehistoric times and their species has survived for thousands of year...I don't care! I know I'm up against a lot! But my goal is to kill each and every cockroach that exists!!! Men, Women, Children cockroaches will not be safe from me! I will kill them all! One petrified spray with RAID as I stand at a distance screaming at a time!!



On this note, come visit me! ;)

The truth of my tummy.

If you couldn't guess already...my blog is not about serious stuff. I know, shocking right? My life actually DOESN'T revolve around donuts and the Olive Garden. (Some of you are thinking "um, yeah it does." SHUT UP, maybe just a little bit.)

However, today I was encouraged when my friend Dana sent me a blog on Crohn's disease, a disease I have. The blog was great, but at first, I was hesitant to read it because almost all the other crohn's blogs I've read just make me feel either:

1) totally disgusted (so much talk about POOP, EW!)
                                     or
2) make me cry/ feel depressed (AH! Horror stories!)

So, I will spare you the gross details or the sob story (...for the most part. I'll qualify that statement by saying this... Crohn's disease is a struggle. Anyone close to me knows how HARD a disease it is and how physically, emotionally, and spiritually it can wreck me. I say this only because I appreciate any and all prayers for healing!)

Instead of lingering on this, I want to write a blog entry to the opposite effect. If you know someone with Crohn's who is experiencing one of those "down in the dumps (pun) days about having Crohn's" maybe this will cheer them up! And for those of you without Crohn's maybe this will make you seriously jealous you don't have it! (ok, probably not, but who knows!)

So I give you:

The 7 PERKS of having Crohn's disease!

1. People with Crohn's can totally get out of having to eat something they don't like!

There is always some type of food restriction for people with Crohn's disease. And it's often changing. That's really the key...it's always changing! One week it's no fruits and veggies, the next we're trying some all natural diet without any processed foods and after that it's no sugar, gluten or dairy.

Whatever it is, people never have a clue what to feed us. So, when we're at someone's house and they're serving some mystery food that smells like day old Indian Food mixed with old lady perfume and everyone around us is struggling to swallow without puking, we can sit pretty and just say:

"Oh, man, you know I'd LOVE to eat some, but I REALLY shouldn't, Crohn's ya know!? DARN!" 

Inside, all crohns-ers are doing an evil laugh/happy dance of victory which continues as we watch those around us struggling to force the food down. THANK YOU CROHNS DISEASE!

Yum?

2. People with Crohn's ALWAYS are the "one uppers" when sharing embarrassing stories! And we always WIN!

Girl: "Oh my gosh, LIKE, it was so LIKE embarrassing! I totally tripped LIKE right in front of my date! Worst moment of my life!"

Crohn's person: "Oh really? Well I totally tripped in front of my date..and then on our drive home I had to have him do an emergency pull off cause I wasn't going to make it to a bathroom. Crohn's disease you know. And THAT'S not even the most embarrassing part...."

awkward, stunned silence follows with perhaps a little gained perspective.

Oy Vey!

OWNED. THANK YOU CROHNS DISEASE!

3. People with Crohn's can get out of awkward moments/conversations in a SNAP!

Do you ever find yourself in a conversation so lengthy or so awkward or dull or even sometimes lengthy, awkward and dull (the triple threat) that you would do ANYTHING to get out of it?!? You contemplate just stabbing yourself with the pen you're holding to create some type of diversion. Well, stab no more! What you need is CROHN'S DISEASE!!!

All you have to do is say is... "Ahh, man it is SO GOOD talking with you but YIKES I just need to run to the bathroom, you know my Crohn's disease" you give a light chuckle and then off you go! Problem solved! THANK YOU CROHN'S DISEASE!

4. People with Crohn's get to be "that girl/guy" on long car rides!

See I know what people are thinking when they're placed in my car or I'm placed in theirs for a long car trip... "Great, now we'll have to stop for bathroom breaks like every half hour!" 

Now, rather than feeling bad about this role, we crohn's people need to just learn to embrace it! We need to appreciate the JOY we bring to the people in our car! Why, because of us they get to see the sketchiest rest stops in America! They get to meet some of the creepiest locals in the world (shout out to West Virginia! boosh!) We enrich people's lives! After all it's about "the journey, not the destination" THANK YOU CROHNS DISEASE!

Subtle much?

5. People with Crohn's are comforters to others when they have stomach pains...without even trying!

I can't tell you how many people will tell me, "I had the stomach flu last week...totally thought about you the whole time!" How precious! Or, "Man, I had the worst bathroom issues yesterday...I thought this must be Paige's life everyday!" So sweet! While they are suffering, they know they're not alone! They know we crohns-ers understand their pain! And you know what, we didn't do anything, yet we've bonded with them! THANK YOU CROHNS DISEASE!

6. People with Crohn's get to torture their friends by asking what happened in the movie while they were in the bathroom!

It never fails! It's the climax of the movie and my Crohn's is like, "hey! oh you're having a good time? *jab* *jab* *jab*  now you have to go to the bathroom...NOW!" So, I book it out of the movie theater, do my business (or bidness as Beyonce would say) and then hussle back in.

I find my friends glued to the screen, but I'm not going to be polite, HECK NO! Instead..."pissssst, pissssssst, PISSSSSSSSTTT!!! Hey, HEY, HEEYYYY What's going on?!?! I'm so lost." It's not nice, I know, I know, but it does always cause me to chuckle as they update me on the plot in .003 second incriminates...

Friend: "He killed her! He's in jail! The alien is back! Oprah made an appearance!"
Me: "Wait? WHAT?"
Friend: "With a gun! Life without parole! Aliens are multiplying! Oprah looked fat."
Me: "Ok THANKS!!!

And THANK YOU CROHNS DISEASE!

Don't hate the talker, hate the Crohn's!

7. People with Crohn's can really freak eavesdropping people out really quick!

So I'm in a deep conversation with someone and then "the eavesdropper" catches the tail end of the conversation. You know the type, lingering around you. They totally miss all body language that suggests "GO AWAY!" Not only do they want to listen to your conversation, but they alway want in on it! That is, until, I start to explain! Honestly, I'm teaching them a valuable life lesson here...mind your own beeswax!

Me to my Friend: "Yeah so it was a rough procedure, but I'm glad it's over"
Eavesdropper: "Wait, what procedure?"
Me: "a colonoscopy?"
Eavesdropper: "What's that?"
Me: "Well, it's a procedure where they take a camera and they............."

Eavesdropper runs away screaming and may require therapy to deal with the mental images placed in his/her head! Lesson learned! THANK YOU CROHNS DISEASE!

Yeah, you asked for it mister!

So you see, in any situation there still is joy to be found! Even though it is a pain in the butt (man, I am just racking up the puns today, aren't I?) there are some positives to be found in having Crohn's disease!

7 Things I think are stupid.

There a lot of things I think are stupid, but here are 7 of them that have recently been on my mind...

1. FALLING ROCK SIGNS

I will never understand the point of a falling rock sign. If I see this sign what exactly am I supposed to do? Should I drive faster? Should I slow down? Is there something I should be doing to prevent these rock avalanches like keep my yodeling to a minimum? 

All these signs really do is stress me out. I wonder, "how big are these falling rocks? Are we talking pebbles or boulders?" I then envision what I would do if a rainstorm of pebble sized rocks just fell or worse yet, just a huge boulder, right in front of my car or right on my car, AH! What a terrible way to go? And if I did die because of falling rock would people end up judging me? ..... "Did you hear about Paige? Yeah, falling rock, that's tough. But there was a sign and everything, it's not like she wasn't warned."

2. MONKEYS BEING CALLED "CUTE"

"I pretty"

When people say monkeys are cute I NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY!!! WHY???!!!!! Why are monkeys cute? Is it just me or are they not just uglier, hairier, naked people? THEY ARE!!! How narcissistic of us humans to call the species of animals that most resemble ourselves cute. 

Ironically, people that look most similar to monkeys are NOT considered cute. In fact, they're considered to be extremely unattractive. Intense brow, hair everywhere, bad posture. They would be caveman like! And I think we've all seen from the GEICO commercials that caveman are not celebrated for their looks, they face a lot of harsh discrimination. 

So let's stop saying monkeys are cute. They're just not. It offends me that people would describe a monkey as cute and then call a puppy cute. That's just not fair to the adorable puppy.

3. WHEN PEOPLE SAY CAMPING IS A VACATION

A trip to Disney World is a vacation, going to the beach is a vacation, a Caribbean cruise is a vacation....CAMPING is NOT a VACATION!!! I have no problem when people say they are going to go "rough it" in the woods for a few days, but when people word it like they're going on a vacation and then tell me it's camping, well that's just stupid. 

Some will disagree (but this is my blog so I will define words however I please) but how I define a vacation as a time of rest and relaxation in an improved state compared to your normal life. Camping is WORK. Camping takes away the comforts of home. You go from a soft bed to the hard ground. You go from air conditioning to waking up sweaty with morning dew covering your face. You go from a microwave to a fire. You actually choose to make life harder on yourself and call it a vacation. No, I'm sorry, I'm not buying what you're selling.

Yeah, good choice.

4. TURTLES (the species, in general)

Congratulations Turtles! You're God's most cowardly reptile/animal! Sorry little zombie child who likes "tudles", I don't share your sentiment. I can't bring myself to celebrate the animal that's instinct is always to retreat.

How do these man turtles ever pick up lady turtles? When the lady turtle asks the man turtle what he'll do if someone comes to mess with them what does the male turtle reply "ummmm well, i'll probably just crawl back inside my shell, so you'll pretty much be on your own there, but you're welcome to do the same." My hero? No, no thank you Mr. Turtle.

5. WHEN PEOPLE PRONOUNCE MATURE, MATOOOOORE

Ohhhhh if you want my blood to boil just pronounce the word mature "matoooore". It sounds so snotty, so pompous, so, so, so STUPID. I hate it!!! I sometimes actually wince when I hear this pronunciation. Can't, handle it, won't handle it. As a speech therapist, this is my number one priority. 

6. PAYING FOR GRADUATION CAPS AND GOWNS

Haven't sucked enough money from me Penn State? Well, you got your one last shot at my bank account when you charged me 82 bucks to buy my graduate school cap and gown. But this wasn't the first time you've done this to me. You recall my undergrad graduation too don't you? Where I already shelled out the cash to wear a blue gown and blue cap instead of the black cap and black gown with awkward sleeves and cheap velvet cape.

I feel, that having poured blood, sweat, tears, and a ridiculous amount of money into my education you could at least just give me the the cap and gown for free.

Or at least just factor it into my tuition so I never no the difference.

7. TRAFFIC CIRCLES

Sorry New Jersey, you know I love you, but traffic circles are of the devil. I'm like 95% confident that the transit system in Hell is one never ending traffic circle.

It seems simple enough...I want to make a left turn, but I can't, why? Because it's illegal. The "solution"........ a circle of death??!!? Cars everywhere, no one knows where to turn or if they do they aren't signaling to let me know. No one knows who has the right of way or which yield sign is pointing to who. Are there two lanes? One lane? Four lanes? I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!

Often when approaching traffic circles I find myself praying aloud to make it out alive! They're stupid.

Toddlers could design for better traffic patterns.

"I'D DO A BETTER JOB!!!"

Yes I love The Olive Garden

From an early age we are taught not to judge others. Not to judge based on age, race, gender, etc. Well, I think another area needs to be added to this list ... "not to judge others based upon their restaurant orientation".

I am FED UP. I have endured YEARS of discrimination, unable to be true to my taste buds. When people ask me what my favorite restaurant is I want to be honest. I want to say loud and proud:

"MY FAVORITE RESTAURANT IS THE OLIVE GARDEN!!!" 

However, when I say that, I get this reaction...

[snotty, snobby voice] "OMG are you, like, serious??? The Olive Garden??? OMG, like that's not even like a REAL restaurant it's a CHAIN!! Like, they don't even serve REAL Italian food. OMG, like you're just like such a typical, uncultured AMERICAN. I'm like 100 billion times better than you. You should probably crawl off and die somewhere now."

You think I'm exaggerating? I'm not. 9 times out of 10 this is the reaction I get. But it doesn't stop there. They always have more to say...

[even more of a snotty, snobby voice, now with increased confidence and conviction] "You know what place I LOVE for good italiano? This tiny place off of (insert obscure road) it's called (insert name I've never heard of) it's family run by a true Italian family the (insert Italian last name). They have the best muuutzeralla and their fettucinay is DIVINE!"

They then stand back with this smug, self satisfied look on their faces letting their words of wisdom saturate the air. I'm left stunned, wondering when the person in front of me morphed into being a food critic, as well as am Italian immigrant. They leave no room for me to disagree. So, feeling defeated, I mumble something like "oh yeah, I've heard of that place (LIE) and I've been meaning to try it (DOUBLE LIE). I just like the, the, the breadsticks at the Olive Garden um but yeah um, yeah you're right, I'm an IDIOT."

I have been so scarred by these interactions that I have just begun lying when asked where my favorite place to eat is. I name that obscure restaurant and when they say "oh I haven't heard of that" then I can be the one on top and say "oh yeah well it's just this tiny place I found, no one's really heard of it, so yeah, um........I'M BETTER THAN YOU"

But you know, I'm not being true to myself. I'm not being true to ignorant, uncultured American me. And it hurts. I need to be who I am. So, I vow to be ashamed no more. Hence forth, I will hold my head high and I will say "My favorite restaurant is The Olive Garden!" And here's why...

1) I love a good deal. Gosh darn it, I do! And at The Olive Garden I can get soup or salad, breadsticks AND a pasta dish for 10 flippin' bucks! 10 FLIPPIN' BUCKS!

2) I LOVE their salads. They are drenched in dressing, with tons of delightful croutons and they refill my bowl for FREE.

3) The breadsticks are amazing too! I know they probably were pre-made, frozen and then thawed.  I DON'T CARE. They come to me warm, fluffy and wreck my mouth with enough garlic to bother family members for an entire week following consumption.

4)  Don't even get me started on their fettucini alfredo. Maybe I'll even call it "noodles with white sauce" sometime to really make people mad. 2/3 sauce 1/3 noodles. Made entirely of butter, heavy whipping cream and cheese, I can actually feel my arteries clogging with every bite. And I LOVE IT.

Yes, I can go to these obscure, socially acceptable non-chain restaurants. But I WON'T be given bread. If I do get a salad I will have paid separately for it. And my entree will probably have a normal ratio of sauce to noodles and to me, it will have been too dry.

However, I'm not going to stop there with just loving The Olive Garden. I have more to say. You know what? I love ALL chain restaurants!!!!!! You heard me, ALL OF THEM!

-Red Lobster's cheddar bay biscuits. Well, if God is eating biscuits in heaven, I'm confident in saying these are what he's munching on.
-Chili's never ending chips and salsa are the perfect way to chat with a dear friend while nibbling on something delicious.
-Panera, your cinnamon crunch bagels have been there as a celebratory snack in good times and a comfort to me in hard times.
-Pizza Hut Lunch Buffet: I honestly have no words.

So judge me world, I don't care anymore. I love chain restaurants and I won't be silenced!!!



In other news I'm thinking about doing a bible study on gluttony/food as an idol. Thoughts?

A trip to the gym: "hey, she's still smiling, kick her @$$."

Now, if you know me at all you'll know that I am NOT athletically gifted.  Once voted "the most unathletic person" in my high school gym class, my athletic abilities can be compared to the atheltic abilities of a block of wood.

So, when I decided to join a gym for the 6 weeks I'm home, I really wasn't expecting much. I thought I'd hop on the elliptical for 30 minutes or so, maybe ride the stationary bike while I listen to some tunes, work up a moderate sweat and feel guilt free when I drink a vanilla milkshake.

But here's the deal, the gym I joined offers 3, 1-hour sessions with a trainer for FREE. The bargain-hunter that lives within me could NOT turn that down.

It was set...Tuesday at 10am. I was running late (typical) and didn't have a chance to eat any breakfast, but I figured, oh what would it matter...how intense could this possibly be? Oh you simple minded girl.

I met with my trainer. He was a really nice dude and enthusiastic about working with me. How nice. I nonchalantly told him about my issues with a lack of coordination, how I'm so weak I have issues lifting a gallon of milk, and how I'm not flexible enough to even come close to touching my toes. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!...Well, I'll tell you what I was thinking, I thought this would make him go easy on me, instead it only incited him. I had wet his appetite for torture.

Meanwhile, dum dum me is still thinking, "This will be easy. A few squats here, a few arm things there. done." OH HOW I WAS WRONG.

I first realized I was in trouble when as I was doing my back exercises a RIDICULOUSLY buff woman trainer walked by and remarked "hey, she's still smiling, kick her @$$." My trainer apparently took her advice, cause after that, on every machine he put me on, he made me do reps until I 1) made "an ugly face", 2) begged for mercy (literally, I begged, trust me) or 3) told him, a complete stranger until that morning, that I hated his guts.

He slowly realized just what poor athletic shape I was in. He would hand me a 10 lb weight for shoulder exercises. I would say, "I'm not going to be able to lift that" and so he'd hand me an 8 lb weight. I'd say "uh, still no"...and finally to 5 lbs, where I would still whimper and whine lifting the suckers.

However, nothing beat the scissor crutches. My trainer laid down on a bench and showed me the exercise I was going to do...you bring your right leg up straight and take your left arm across and you try to touch your toe thus, murdering your abs. He did this movement easily. Now, I've never been flexible so when I laid down and did the exercise I didn't even come CLOSE to touching my hand to my foot. I wish I could show you just how off I was. At least a foot. It was hysterical. I tried so hard, but  he ended up having to modify the whole exercise cause it was literally impossible for my body to complete the movement.

So, remember how I said I hadn't eaten breakfast. The whole time I'm doing these exercises and exerting myself in ways I had NEVER in my LIFE done before I'm starting to feel worse and worse. At certain points I start to feel what I call "cotton eared" where it's almost like there's cotton in your ears blocking sound. I know that I'm close to passing out when I feel "cotton eared".  I'm obviously not doings so hot but I wanted to be STRONG, to be TOUGH, to finally be...ATHLETIC. So I told myself, to push through it, to man up, and I did...till the very end of the workout.

I was at the front desk signing myself up for my next torture training session when I felt too light headed to keep standing. I knew what to do, so I sat down, right where I was standing and tucked my head between my knees. Unfortunately, right where I was standing was the entrance to the gym. A herd of buff moms flooded the doors seconds after I sat down. They mom-ed me, asking me if I was ok. I was so embarrassed and I told them how I was fine and this happened often to me and not to worry. Luckily my trainer swooped in shooed them away and moved me to a better location where we sat for 5 minutes until I felt better. During those 5 minutes I received a lesson on eating breakfast, staying hydrated, and knowing how much my body can handle. Which, by the way this went, I think it's safe to say that my body can handle little, very little.

And on that note, my next training appointment is tomorrow at 9 am.