I miss my blog and my blog friends. I have a lot of catch up to do. My Google Reader is busting its zipper and my keyboard has a forlorn look on its face. On the morning following shoulder surgery, under the influence of narcotics, I posted a brief account of my post-operative status. It was a misguided attempt at being all “I Am Woman Hear Me Roar” and stuff. My shoulder has hurt like the dickens ever since the initial anesthetic wore off, and particularly since Sunday when I stopped taking the aforementioned narcotics. I had to kick the drugs cold turkey because
I couldn’t open the childproof cap my husband was secretly trying to off me by “forgetting” to write down when I’d taken the last one they made my stomach feel worse than my shoulder and I detest how my brain feels on drugs.
I could never be a rock star given my distaste for narcotics. Well, that, and the fact that I can’t sing or play an instrument.
Although I was blessed to attend the local pre-Bossy road trip planning event, I missed the actual Bossy visit because my
family staged an intervention and checked me into rehab shoulder hurt real bad. I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone by not showing up because I was supposed to bring my Vicodin to the potluck. I was really bummed to miss out because I have no friends in the real world this is a great group of women and I wanted to spend more time with them. Check out the fabulous accounts of the evening over at Jamie’s blog, Kate’s blog, Jenn’s blog, Deb’s blog, and Aaryn’s blog. Gals, I meant what I said about hosting a pool party for our next big adventure – if you are ready to brave the ever-present danger lurking in the deep end.
Other than struggling with bottle caps and shoulder slings, things have been pretty slow at Blog This Mom! this week, so I will simply share the little laugh that Laura gave her dad and me as she was on her way to school yesterday. Laura’s teacher had just finished reading The Other Boleyn Girl, and I promised to loan her a couple more Phillipa Gregory books (I think they’re a hoot, btw), including this one:
When I handed this book to Laura to take to her teacher, Laura looked at the cover and said, “Oh, my teacher’s former name was Virgin, before she got married.”
Laura’s dad and I choked back a laugh and off they went to school. Then I emailed Laura’s teacher, and sure enough, although her maiden name wasn’t really Virgin, it was close, Visser. Laura’s teacher, the former
Virgin Visser, had a good laugh too.