I just replayed it eight times in a row and have actual tears in my eyes right now (make sure you have the sound on because that’s the best part). Thanks Juice Box! Or Lean Cuisine! I can never remember which one you are…

And while we’re on the topic of dogs, check back tomorrow for the 30th Toolbag Wednesday (wow, that’s a lot of angst!) courtesy of Poopy People Who Are Mean to Dogs.

Share

For real. It was that bad.

Alone and scared, I was up for five hours on the floor of my tiny bathroom that night. I was nauseous and sweating in places I didn’t even know could sweat. If I weren’t in such pain, the no sleep thing alone would have made me homicidal. Ultimately, I toughed it out and went to my doctor the next morning where I got a prescription and optimistically thought I’d feel better by the next day.

Nope! I couldn’t even stay at work that afternoon. And that night, I woke up and again debated a trip to the emergency room. The following morning-  three days into this new mystery illness- I was twisting and turning, unable to find any position for comfort while trying to rest on the couch at home when I suddenly overheard on the TV: “Imagine being pregnant for 60 years…it’s true and it happened in China. Coming up next.”

Ummm….weird medical sci-fi shit? Sold! 

This is also precisely when my mind- in its severly ILLNESS-CLOUDED AND SLEEP DEPRIVED state- began to question Google’s results for “extreme side pain.”

Sixty years…holy hell…how horrible…what does that even mean…seriously, that doesn’t even make any sense…damn I have to pee again…but I already tried…again…I wish I could sleep…but seriously, maybe I’m pregnant…or was and and, like, didn’t know it…yeah, maybe that’s what’s going on…ugh…what the hell.

By the time the show came back from commercial and the premise of the 60 year pregnancy was explained, I was doing leg lifts, actual leg lifts, in an attempt to “work out whatever kink” I may have somehow gotten my lower back into. Then, as I contorted my body into painful angles such as laying flat on my back and standing up straight, I learned that the poor woman being chronicled on the show actually knew she was pregnant all those years ago, but when her baby “went to sleep” before being born, she just went on with her life. Okay…

Pondering the likelihood of my own odd medical state, I took a break from stretching and moved onto lunges, alternating reps with guzzling water from a jug in an effort to combat the UN-FUCKING-CEASING urge to pee and my inability to successfully do so. Too much? Just wait.

By the end of the TV show, I had placed a call into my doctor and was laying in bed on my stomach sans pillow, phone in hand. When they finally called me back HOURS LATER, I was told to get there in 40 minutes or go to the ER. Cause that’s super affordable.

So I rushed to my doctor, who in turn sent me to the hospital for a CT scan, where I was diagnosed with a kidney stone. Immediately, I felt vindicated for the pain I was in and accepted everyone’s effusive sympathy rather than the scorn I felt sure to receive for overreacting. I was given vicodin and a sieve to strain my pee (i.e. drugs and “entertainment”). I can’t tell you how many times I Googled “what does a kidney stone look like” in order to know what I should be looking for- I won’t go into the details, but suffice to say there was some other nasty stuff showing up.

Five days after my ordeal began, I was pain-free at last and no longer “panning for gold.” I can hardly convey the absolute elation I felt when I passed that damn thing except to say I wanted to celebrate with champagne. I felt actual pride in myself for toughing it out and successfully passing a sizable stone. Coral-like and spiky (“agony” in the picture above is a dead ringer), I placed it in a plastic snack bag and studied it (I was asked by the doctor to save it just in case they needed to analyze it- apparently I’m now 75% more likely to get another one!). Sadly, while it seemed massive at first,  I swear the ornery bastard has steadily shrunk ever since.  

For such a small thing, it proved incredibly costly. All told, my kidney stone set me back $897 after insurance (which luckily covered the other $2687 due), as well as three of my five sick days. Given that it is now one of the most expensive things I own, I keep it on my microwave. A physically and financially painful daily reminder to drink more water.

Share

Keeping with my tradition of selecting a theme from favorite TV shows (Gossip Girl turkey and Rachel Zoe Project turkeys), I’ve chosen Mad Men as my theme this year. Fancy, also keeping with tradition (Rob Pattinson turkey #1 and “Happy Fangs-giving” turkey AKA Rob Pattinson turkey #2), has selected another scary movie staple: zombies of course!

We hope you enjoy our craftiness in the gallery below. Click on the “i” in the upper right corner of the gallery and you’ll get a caption too! Happy Thanksgiving!

Share

“Let me just pull up your account…..I see you have our SUPER-DOUBLE-WHATEVER-WE-WANT-TO-REBRAND-OURSELVES-TO-COVER-OUR-INCREASE-IN-PRICES package.”

“Yup…same one I’ve had for the past nine months.”

“Right. Well, due to an increase in operating costs, I’m sure you can understand, we’ve had to raise our prices ever so slightly. I do see that, as a special thank you from us, you’ll receive HBO for the next six months for free.”

“Yeah, I’ve had that for free for the past nine months too. What if I just trade you HBO for my $10 back each month?”

“Are you unhappy with your services?”

“No, I guess not. I just don’t know what value I’m getting for $10 more a month.”

“We’ve recently enhanced our Internet speed….”

“Really? It’s working the same as before….”

“Well, if you want to upgrade to our…”

“No, I don’t want to upgrade. I just don’t see how I’m better off.”

“We can look at other SIMILARLY-PRICED-IF-NOT-MORE-EXPENSIVE packages if you…”

“No. You know what? No. Maybe just don’t acquire a network on its last lap around the drain (sorry 30 Rock, I still heart you) and stop hiring Don Draper to do your commercial voice-overs. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to raise prices.”

“……….”

“Well, not you. You know what I mean. Hey, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“Anyway. So, $10 more a month?

“Yes.”

“GREAT.”

How the conversation really went….

“Hi, I’m calling because I keep getting cryptic calls from this number and want to know why.”

“Let me just check your information………..right. We’re just calling as a courtesy to verify your service disconnection request.”

“My what?”

“Service disconnection.”

“Ah, no. I didn’t request that. Don’t do that. No.”

“Okay, well, that’s why we have these sorts of calls! Hehehehehehehe…”

“Yeah, but you didn’t even leave a message or anything. Also, why am I even being called about this?”

“With computers these days you just never can tell. Somebody pushes the wrong button here and it comes out wrong there and….you know how it is. Anyway, I do see that you have our SUPER-DOUBLE-WHATEVER-WE-WANT-TO-REBRAND-OURSELVES-TO-COVER-OUR-INCREASE-IN-PRICES package.”

“Um, yeah. Just to be clear, I’d like to keep it. Again, do not disconnect anything.”

“Right. I also see that while your rate will be only $10 more a month, you’ll also receive HBO for six months for free as a special thank you from us.”

“Yes. Great. Already get it, but okay. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

“No. Just don’t get rid of anything.”

“Got it. Thank you for calling OVERPRICED-REBRANDED-COMPANY-THAT-JUST-PUT-ONE-OVER-ON-YOUR-JANKY-ASS.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks. Bye.………wait, what? Ten dollars more? Hello? Hello? Ah, hell.”

Share

Case in point, the following repartee from her chapter entitled, “Wedding Chopper,” in which she’s prepping for a run and chatting with her now ex-boyfriend, Ted. (Seriously, why did they break up? Her stories about him are hilarious.)

“…What is in your hair?” he asked, squinting at my head.

“A hair clip…”

“Why does it say Doritos on it?” he inquired upon closer inspection of my head.

“Because it’s a chip clip. I couldn’t find any hair bands and I wanted to go for a run. Is that okay with you?”

“So what’s holding the chips together?” he demanded to know.

“Really, Ted? The chips are more important than me getting some cardio in? I mean, seriously.”

“Chelsea, answer the question.”

“What is the question?”

“What is holding the chips together?”

“The chips are gone.”

“Exactly. Those were the chips for the helicopter, Chelsea. I swear sometimes I feel like I’m living with a refugee.”

Annnnd scene.

Just like that, in the briefest of moments, in the shortest of printed conversations, the Chelsea Chelsea of my Tivo-ing ways- the wise-cracking, down-to-earth, gal-about-town- has been shot by her own “Bang Bang.” Because although I too have been known to employ unconventional objects to tie back my hair (see: paper clip, scotch tape), albeit not for any kinetic activity of my own, I have never been known to travel by HELICOPTER.

I realize it’s all that bad influence Ted’s doing, I do. I also realize that Chelsea Chelsea probably isn’t flying in many helicopters these days. I’ll even go so far as to give our gal credit where credit is due.* But seriously…why Chelsea Chelsea? Why? The only douche-bags who should be riding in helicopters are traffic reporters, tourists, and The Donald.

*At least she had the proletariat (or refugee-esque) forethought to eat those “helicopter” Doritos rather than allow The Man to go all bourgy on her ass, dictating when the Doritos are to be eaten; then proceeded to put on her “thinking cap” and creatively problem solve her hair tying/ running conundrum. To paraphrase Chelsea Lately verbiage, A Tip of the Show Blog to You.

Share

• The return of Gossip Girl- less for the actual show than NY Mag’s (previously Daily Intel and now Vulture) recap and Reality Index. Fine-fucking-ly.
• The William Eggleston exhibit at the Art Institute. A color photography retrospective from a half century of American day-to-day sophistry. Who knew looking at photos of people grocery shopping in the 1960s could be so engrossing? 
• The Oscars for alerting me to the existence of the animated short film, Logorama. Brand logo mania and consumer voyeurism at its best. Also, the French producer’s acceptance speech was a delight. 
• And on a somewhat related note, this visual snack of movie parody awesomeness.
• The Ask by Sam Lipsyte. The (somewhat) depressive, sardonic, underachieving everyman narration is just the kind of dark humored, hegemonic, authorial mind fuck I’ve been looking to read. Also, thank you for saving me from the listless Gen X vocab diarrhea that is Tao Lin’s Bed.
• Conan O’Brien’s “The Legally Prohibited From Being Funny On Television Tour” coming to Chicago in May and the boyfriend’s agile ticket procuring prowess (dude was on it!). Conan and Andy, please do a modern version of “In the year 2000.” Pretty please.
• The Puppy Cam because, duh, it’s puppies. Could there be a better time suck? The answer is unequivocally “no.” 

To one and all I wholeheartedly say, “I salute you!”

Share

We sat down. We ordered food. We sat in silence. We looked about the room. We sipped our drinks. We talked about how sad the Whale Wars marathon on Planet Green was last night. We sat in silence some more. We eavesdropped- it was unavoidable!

The conversation next door was a runaway train of dating energy. The girl would NOT stop her “laughing.” She was overeager and it was embarrassing to witness her unreciprocated enthusiasm. While she dug and scraped at her Eggs Benedict with feigned interest in eating, the dude peppered her with a question here or there. He was polite, though douchey, playing it cool in that nonchalant way that dudes can affect whilst still wearing sweatpants. There were mentions of “last night” and, curiously enough, “one dollar bills.” There were references to high school and trips to DC. There was a brief swapping of future job interests.

Loudly, and not at all concerned for himself being overheard (because he couldn’t give a shit and is just as, if not more, judgmental than me), my boyfriend remarks more than asks, “What is this, the guy she picked up at the bar last night?” We both laughed and I thought,”I love you for statements like that.” Later, as we quickly wrapped up our breakfast and went about our day, the whole episode got me to thinking…

When you’re in the early stages of a relationship, when you’re still full of hope and joy and giddiness, before you’ve found that one thing that annoys the ever living fuck out of you; you look at couples sitting silently like my boyfriend and I and tell yourself you’ll never let that happen to YOUR relationship. Oh no. Perish the thought.

And then, when you’re in a relationship like ours and you’re sitting in companionable quiet, you mock and smirk at those fledgling couples with open disdain. You reflect upon their doings with genuine gratitude that you no longer have to partake in such put-on happiness and optimism and “oh, isn’t everything just wonderful, I’m never in a bad mood ever, I’m wonderful, like me like me like me!” Instead, you can just be.

I don’t know that one perspective is better than the other, but I’m content and grateful to be with someone like him, someone who I can joke around with and be all judgey and 100% me- annoying habits and bad moods and all.

Share