Andi Pandi

Again, with the too much crap going on, so here is the list:

1.  The Obligatory Peanut Picture:

2.  Mom and Dad called from IKEA the other day to rub in the fact that they were shopping there and I wasn't...so I feel inclined to mention that I have gram living with me and things like Fudge are at my Beck and Call suckas!!

3.  Leaving on Thursday night for the Official Lawyer Smackdown 2005 edition.  I am trying to gear up my bad attitude right now because no one should have to pay 155k to be in a wheelchair for six months! (no matter how much ice cream they let you eat).

4.  Finally got my Weight Watchers mojo back today...and still managed to work in three pieces of fudge...only Andi could manage to diet and eat fudge concurrently.

5.  Mr. Clean Magic Eraser Miracle of the Moment:  Today, i ironed this sweater that was part cotton and part silk and apparently (although unbenounced to me) there was also "mystery fiber" in it that melted all over the bottom of the iron...luckily though the magic eraser took the nasty shit right off and i was able to continue my iron-athon as planned.

6.  People who live in apartment above me made the list tonight because I am quite certain they weight 600 pounds apiece and are having a marching lesson directly above my head.

7.  How cute is this?

Who is the peanut, right?

8.  And now, so that my own little fluff head is not left out, I will delight you with this:

This week, Prissy got to go to Petsmart and pick out toys for the Peanut...

9.  My gram came home yesterday with like twenty pounds of halloween candy and this excuse: "Well you know doll, you live in a big complex and you could have up to two hundred kids come by!"  Yeah right, because the three that came by last year and got to split the candy three ways, totally spread the word, right?

10.  Tomorrow I am learning to make potroast and after the entire Staring at all the Dead Meat in Walmart and Trying to Determine Which One EXACTLY is a Roast Debacle...I am not sure how this is going to go, but by God, we are gonna eat us some cow tomorrow!!

Here is the deal: I have no idea when i will ever have the time again to blog stuff....so here:

1. Most Importantly: The Peanut:

Isn't she beautiful? I wanted her name to be Phoebe, but it is Peanut and it is soooo fitting because she is a little peanut head!!

2. Also, Fun Bobby?  He was fun. Not like rollercoaster-cotton-candy-puking fun, but fun none the less...I have pictures of The Man and his wife MaryJo on their way.

3. I am going home on the 4th of November to hunt down my attorney and give him the last remaining piece of my mind...and I am taking The Steve with me! So THERE!  TRY to fight me when he is on my side!  I defy you!!

4. Holding stead at -9 lbs on weight watchers.  I have GOT to get back on the wagon..Tomorrow is the weigh in and I am in total dread because of the Godiva Sarah and I just wolfed down.

5. Speaking of tomorrow: The Return of the Potty Doctor...THIS will prove to be very very interesting and provide hours and days of laughter at my expense, to be sure.

6. Gram officially lives with me now and we are having a great time...the other night The Steve said "Oh, you don't have to stay with me tonight if it will make it strange for your gram, i don't know if she knows that we spend the night together" and I thought: "yeah, right because she is blind and deaf and still thinks it is 1929, right?"  I am fairly certain that she knows.

7. Must. Go. To. Phoenix. For. Vaca. SOON!!!  Work is making me a little stir crazy and after the project is done on Monday, I am soooo going to plan something fun to do!  Mandatory Fun-Having!

8. I got a new cell phone and it is RED!  It is red and sparkley and has a camera and a camcorder that takes little tiny 30 second videos...I can't wait until I have three minutes of free time to figure out how to use it.

9. Yes, Bethi, I have the lists of sevens all composed...but it is on a napkin from Braums and I haven't quite gotten around to entering it and...

10. I have also hand written (on the back of a sprint bill) the lists of the things that google says "Andi Needs" to do or get or whatever...So there ARE good things in the pipeline...just no time to tend to them!!

Right this minute I am putting off getting in the shower.  Because I have been recruited to go over to my gram's house and meet "cousin bobby" who is apparently the "fun bobby" of our family.  This is my grandfather's brother's oldest son and wife...WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE?  I will never know, but as they are vacationing and on their way to Branson (wheeeee!), we have to entertain them for an entire day.  a sunday of all days!!

I am certain that he is indeed more fun than the law allows, but to give up a sunday to sit and listen to old people recount stories of their childhood memories is enough to put me in a coma.  Actually, a coma wouldn't be so bad right now come to think of it...then the whole visit with FUN BOBBY would be over as soon as i wake up...

I asked "so do these people have kids my age" and everyone just looked around waiting for anyone else to have the answer...it turns out that WE DON'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE!!  Gram is on her way to their hotel as we speak to go pick them up and I defy her to actually pick them out of a crowd.  Mom just said "oh, the white hair, that will do it"  to which i am responding "nooo...no one with white hair would be on their way to Branson!!".  "don't be a smartass, you need a good solid whack kiddo"...mom getting stern with me...i am so glad we are not in the mafia or i would have to go into a witness protection program to avoid the "whack".  as we are irish, i know that i just need to avoid a slap up the backside of my head instead...

So...again I ask you: Can anyone top this for a sunday?  Does someone get to go and perform thai yoga on their 90 year old great uncles step daughter's neighbor? (whack!  mom found me...)  I am only hoping that now that i am 28 (but still a child in the whole generational-family hierarchy thing), that i can just pretend to be a total flake (pretend hahahaha!!)and go to the mall because well...kids these days spend too much time there huh?

WARNING:  THIS ENTRY IS NOT SUITABLE FOR THE SQUEAMISH OR THOSE WHO HAVE A PHOBIA OF Q-TIPS.

There, that said, we can move on to the indepth experience I had today at the potty doctor. As we all know, I am prone to urinary tract infections...so prone in fact, that i am quite capable of self-diagnosis and I simply demand the appropriate antibiotic and move on...and by "move on", I mean "start dealing with the enormous yeast infection that ensues and the diarrhea and vomiting that the antibiotics creates".

So, last week I got the mother fucker UTI from hell...Satan himself would have cried. Four days of fevers and pottying out a drop at a time--eyes watering in the stall as I try not to just sob--in the hopes that i may somehow manage to cry the urine out. The gyno put me on a different antibiotic and sent me on my way. Until the antibiotic didn't work and then she said "i want you to see a urologist".

HERE BEGINS THE MADNESS.

For seven days I was on a *new* antibiotic that gave me vomiting and diarrhea and a fever for FOUR DAYS. Still however, I am pottying about every thirty minutes and it is like sliding down the edge of a razor blade into a pool of alcohol and drying off with a handful of salt. I didn't sleep for like three nights because I had a six year old's paranoia of wetting the bed. One can imagine that my MOOD left something to be desired.

So today I go to Dr. Pakistan's (name changed to protect the eerily strange man) urology practice. Potty in the cup, wait for an hour for the results blah blah...Then he comes in and lets me know we are going to do a "full exam"...anytime ANYONE tells you they are going to do a FULL-ANYTHING, this means that there will not be a single orafice of your body that does not end up with KY jelly in it. (and not a small amount, but a super human two gallon amount that leaves you squishing in your panties when you exit the office).

The gynocologist used to scare me to death with the Duck-Billed Twaticus, but THIS? This was insane. The first thing he does is (of course) KY my entire body...I felt like the girls on that fraternity movie where they were doing the KY wrestling? Then he takes a TEN INCH LONG Q-TIP...I am getting dizzy just thinking about it...and puts it entirely up into the potty hole. The hole through which everything and i mean EVERYTHING is ONLY meant to ever exit. Removes that, "you may feel a pinch"...I would like to demonstrate for them how this "pinch" feels with a stun gun.

Then, THEN, because there are several more holes in my body that have not been offended yet, we move onto my other girlie-hole and then the pooper and I have to tell you that I have not experienced humiliation like this...well....ever.

After my exam I am sitting there in my squishy panties--this is the feeling I normally only ever get after a good Hugh Grant movie...and I have to answer this battery of questions: how often do you have sex, list all the positions you use, do you have sex in your pooper? do you have oral sex? what is the frequency of each? I finally just started bawling my eyes out and had to interrupt them to tell them that I am a NORMAL, NON NASTY, NON STREET WALKING, NON PROSTITUTE, NON ASS FUCKER--and that I am a regular person who does things cleanly and politely and in no way ever allows anyone (present company excluded) anywhere near the god damned POOPER!

So he just nods and the nurse nods and then they ask me if I happen to have "leakage" (that damn word....) when I laugh or sneeze or cough. Well, NO?! Can they not see that I am WITHOUT A GOD DAMNED DIAPER RIGHT NOW? So the good news there was that I have that to look forward to because i have apparently a weak sphincter...but not to worry, it happens to everyone. HOW, how do they expect me not to become a bitter spinster with this news? "no, no one ever make me laugh again or i may piss myself". Quality of Life just hit an all time low.

So next week I get to go in and have a fun-fun-silly-willy cat-scan because it MAY or MAYNOT be a kidney stone...and it MAY or MAYNOT be scar tissue from the catheter I was able to strap to my (broken) leg last fall for 21 days or it may just mean that I get to take an antibiotic everytime I have sex...which means that everytime I have sex, I get the blessing of a yeast infection from SAID antibiotic, which means that I get to do the lovely at-home cream-basting of myself for 3 or seven days (monistat ovule be damned...i am capable of simply expelling those from the ONE orafice I DO utalize for sex)...

So, that was my day...i DEFY anyone to top it.