Jump Right In...

Sit right down! For real, you might want to be sitting. Because I'm going to tell you all about the last month or so of my life, and it's going to take awhile.

Let's start with a couple of things that happened BEFORE the last month or so, but since my last post (the one about Pepper, not the Pokemon Go post). We adopted a new dog named Penny Lane, who is an adorable, tiny schnauzer mix that I love with all my heart. We've had her for almost a year and a half now. This spring I finally graduated from PSU (huzzah!!) and had a graduation party, which was awesome. I turned 31 and then 32, which isn't as awesome, but definitely not bad. And, um... Yeah, that about covers things.

The last month of my life has been many things. Stressful probably tops the list. For the most part, it started right around August 10th, though I didn't know it at the time. It was hot and humid here in the land of Sconnie, and when you wear glasses in the humidity, a few things happen. One is that your lenses tend to fog up when you step out of the beautiful A/C into the tropic-like moisture that 80% humidity offers. Another is that your glasses slide a lot (yay, sweat) and you're constantly pushing them back to their rightful place. Basically, your glasses end up pretty dirty and smudged. Add two excitable dogs and putting a camera to your face a bunch and you start to assume the world is supposed to look slightly blurred or blobby. At least, I did.

It started with me just thinking my glasses were constantly dirty. And while that was mostly true, I eventually realized that cleaning them wasn't fixing the problem. Things were still... off. By Saturday, August 13th, I knew something was amiss. I was trying to read something and realized that it was taking longer than normal because I was hunting around for the letters. I felt like I could see the words on the page, but I couldn't see the whole word at once. Odd.

I closed my left eye and nothing was wrong. I closed my right eye and holy shit, what happened to the world?! With my left eye alone, bits and pieces of my sight appeared to be missing, which I determined couldn't be a good thing. Maybe my sight has been slowly getting worse and I'm just now realizing it? Yeah, that must be it. So I made an appointment with an optometrist for late September.

Image from MS Unites (msunites.com)

As I was explaining things to Hubby, I realized that it wasn't just the sight itself. Colors were muted and things looked faded or dulled. I went back online and found an earlier appointment; I wasn't going to wait for this to get worse before I did something. In fact, I almost had Hubby take me to urgent care or the ER because I was terrified that I was experiencing retinal detachment. But then I finally searched for the color loss and found Optic Neuritis (ON), which seemed to fit what I was experiencing. So I calmed my tits and we waited for the appointment.

On the 17th, Hubby and I went to the optometrist. While I can still technically see with that eye (in fact, my prescription only changed by the smallest amount it possibly can), she said my symptoms sounded like an optic nerve issue. She referred me to an ophthalmologist and said she'd call the clinic to get me in sooner rather than later. Someone from the clinic called me the next morning and we scheduled an appointment for Friday afternoon.

In the meantime, I had plenty of time to research ON. Inflammation of the optic nerve. Usually affects just one eye. Color loss can occur. Typically resolves on its own in a few months (ugh, months?). Strongly associated with Multiple Sclerosis.

Wait, what? Back that up a minute, please. MS? No, no. That can't be right... Can it?

The more I read about the relationship between ON and MS, the more I was looking for something else - ANYTHING else - it could be. (An ocular migraine, maybe? Or Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension? That one affects overweight women of child-bearing age - that description fits me to a T! Could that be it?) Unfortunately, the more I read about ON, the more it sounded spot on, and the more anxious I got. I tried to reassure myself by going over the symptoms of MS (none of which I had, save ON) and by reading about isolated occurrences of ON. But the seed had been planted, and I was just pouring on the water and fertilizer. I was terrified I had MS.

I actually missed numbers for the 1st time in my life.

Hubby was (very fortunately) able to accompany me to my appointment. I don't know what I'd have done if he wasn't there, so I'm just glad he was. After a few quick tests, those awful eye drops that turn your eyes yellow (which Hubby hadn't seen before), and some "pictures" of my optic nerve, it all came down to one conclusion: I had ON. I had correctly self-diagnosed.

I'll save the rest for later. Stay tuned.

I'm So Vain, I Probably Think This Blog Is About Me

I'm 28 and I'm going gray.

For the past few years, I'd occasionally notice a white hair (which, when you have dark brown hair, sticks out like a heathen on Good Friday - why yes, I'll take the biggest, juiciest steak you have! Fish? God, no. I don't want fish...). I'd pull it and be done with it. No harm, no foul. But lately, there are more. And more. And more! I can't keep up.

And truth be told, the problem isn't truly vanity. No, the problem is my OCD. When I catch a glimpse of a white hair, I have to hunt it down. It becomes my sole mission to find that hair and yank it out. But I can't stop there. White hairs are like deer and cop cars; where there's one, there are more. So then I go searching for others to pull. If I didn't have something else to do, or didn't consciously tell myself to walk away, I'd stand in front of the bathroom mirror until every damn one of them was gone. If I wasn't on my pills, I wouldn't be able to control myself at all.

Hubby hates that I do it (probably because I chastise him for similar things), and I know it's unhealthy, but they keep coming. The only option I can really see to prevent it from happening is to start dying my hair. When I was a teen, you couldn't stop me from dying my hair. Black, red, pink, orange, blonde... my poor hair must have had an identity crisis. These days... I really, really don't want to. I actually like the color of my hair (minus the little white bastards), and I hate the idea of being resigned to dying my hair for the rest of my life. (As I told Hubby, "I'm too young to dye!")

I am trying to work on letting it go. Just because I can see it there, doesn't mean it has to come out, right? Deep breaths. Re-focus on something healthy. Move along. Easier said than done. Keep trying.

If anyone out there has any techniques or ideas to offer, I'm all ears. Otherwise, I'll just keep fighting the good fight. For now.

Time Flies...

Let's go on a bit of a stroll down memory lane.

Yours truly is twenty and (in theory) on a "break" from college.  In order to return to college, the parental units insist that I get a job and earn X amount of money to put toward my college funds. 

So on this very day in 2005, I had my first day of work as a temp-to-hire employee.  It was primarily a data entry position, which worked for me.  I was scheduled for 20 hours a week, working 5-9 PM on weeknights.  I didn't have to get up early and could spend the days doing what I wanted, so it seemed like a sweet deal. 

I walked into the lobby of the building and realized that I had no idea what I was supposed to do.  So, I walked straight up to the front desk and, with as much of a smile as I could, I said, "Hi, I'm new and I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go."  In return, I got a blank, uninterested look.  Panic was about to take over when someone from behind me answered.  Apparently, we had a meeting to attend, and I followed the masses into the adjoining room.  Huddling in a chair at the back of the room, I clutched my purse and waited.  

That first night is still a bit of a blur.  During the meeting, we got Valentine's candy (a day late, but who cares), and I remember thinking that was pretty cool.  I later found out that the woman who would be training me for my job wasn't available for a few days, so I learned to do some easy stuff to fill the time.  I stopped by my boss's office to ask if I was allowed to take a break (no one had explained that part to me), and I headed out the front door to have a smoke alone.  I got to leave about 20 minutes early that first night, and when I got home, I remember my mom being so excited that I'd had my first night of work.  I, on the other hand, was just tired and hungry.  Excitement would have to wait.

Fast-forward to today.  Seven years later, I'm still working for the same company in the same general area.  It sounds less eventful than it was, trust me.

In July of 2005, I became a permanent part-time employee.  In August, my parents told me I hadn't earned enough money (well, I hadn't given them enough of my money, anyway) to return to school.  So in September of 2005, I started working 27-29 hours a week.  By December, I was working 40 hours a week at part-time pay ("seasonal" full-time, they called it) and had decided that work was better for me at the time than school.  

I continued working 40 hours a week (at hourly, part-time pay with no benefits).  I kept being told that I'd have to drop back to under 30 hours at some point, but the threat was never made good.  In April 2007, I was finally offered a full-time position doing the same thing I was doing, but with Day Administration instead of Night Processing.  That meant working from 8-4:30 instead of 12:30-9, but it also meant benefits and job security, and since the position was pretty much created for me, I took it without question.

In March 2008, I moved about 100 miles away from our corporate office (I had been living 3 miles away) and instead of letting me go, I was given the opportunity to work from home.  There were varying stipulations through the years.  For awhile I had to come to the office once every two weeks.  Then it was once a month.  At some point I was only going about 4 times a year, and then it finally dwindled to once a year (for our big company meeting).  

It's been seven years since I walked into the lobby without a clue, dressed in black slacks and a nice shirt, blindly following instructions and hoping I was doing things adequately.  In that time, I've gotten awards, promotions, and raises.  I've gone from a complete outsider to part of a family, to part of a new family, to just a name in a sea of employees.  From dress clothes to pajamas, and smoke breaks to laundry breaks.  A lot has changed.

And yet, somehow, I still feel like I did that first night, alone and unsure of myself, wondering what I'm doing here and where it'll lead.  Trying to figure out how I got to this point and when the rest of my life is going to start.  

Seven years.  Time does fly...        

Brett Who?

As I'm sure any true Packers fan will tell you, last night's game was nothing short of fantastic.  Yes, it started poorly, but we came back strong and didn't back down.  It was beautiful.

My favorite part (aside from the fact that we're headed to the NFC Championship game!) was that during the entire course of the game, I didn't hear the name "Brett Favre" once.  Sure, he got a brief mention during the pre-game and another just after the clock ran out at the end, but during the actual game, there was nothing.

Let me clear up my feelings on this:

• I will always look back and think of Brett Favre fondly as a Packer.  He was an amazing player and a huge part of our Super Bowl XXXI glory, and for that I will always be grateful.  
• Once he decided to screw us over by un-retiring and not wanting to give Aaron Rodgers the chance he'd been promised, I started doubting Brett as a person.  I mean, who does that?  When he went to the Jets, I was disappointed in him, but I vowed to move past it.  It was the beginning of Aaron's era.  Still, every Packers game was riddled with commentary about Brett Favre.
• When he decided to un-retire AGAIN, this time going to the Vikings, I lost all faith in Brett.  It's one thing to go play for another team.  It's another to join the enemy.  Unforgivable.  And yet, there continued to be talk of Favre during Packers games.  It was either comparisons of Rodgers and Favre, or talking about Favre's glory days, or mentions of what the Vikings were up to...  Ugh.  Enough, already!

As I said, I will always look back fondly on Brett as a Packer.  Post-Packers, I refuse to give him ANY credit for ANYTHING he did.  The fact is, he screwed up.  He put himself ahead of the team, and that wasn't something I ever thought he would do.  I thought he was a true Packer, and I'm sad to say I was so horribly wrong.  So yes, it gives me GREAT pleasure that he didn't get a single mention during this Packers game.  Because I'm so over him.  

Brett Favre is like your high school sweetheart (with a few exceptions, of course).  You can look back fondly at the time you were together, because he (or she) was the world to you and he could do no wrong.  You had amazing experiences together and you'll never forget that. 

But once he started screwing around after you went away to college, he lost all credibility.  You two were done and it was time to move on.  Only everyone around you kept mentioning him, and in your mind, you were always comparing other guys to him.

Once you found out he ended up with that popular girl from high school (the bitch everyone hated, who thought she was all that, but was just a classless whore), it was SO done.  She can have your sloppy seconds; you've got a new man.  And he's even MORE amazing.

Brett Who?

That's what I thought.   

Harrumph!

I believe I've decided (or, rather, perhaps the world has decided for me) that Hump Day will no longer be a weekly post.  Instead, it'll probably be more of an "if-Erika-has-time-for-it-and-finds-something-good" post.

On the plus side, the work day is done and it's almost time for quality time with the hubs.  In this case, quality time is dinner at Chili's and shopping at Target for notebooks and other back-to-school items that I totally forgot I needed.  It may not be fancy or sound special, but I'm pretty excited nonetheless. 

Hump Day - I Have A Vibrator & I'm Not Afraid To Use It!

So, according to this article, a 56-year-old woman had herself a dine and dash evening at the local crab shack, and when the police came her her home, she threatened to assault them with - I kid you not - a sex toy.  

Allow me to point out just why I find this so hilarious.

1) This happened in Gurnee, IL.  Anything that happens in Illinois just makes me laugh.

2) A woman in her mid-50's felt the need to skip out on a bill at Joe's Crab Shack.  Really, lady?

3) They won't identify the actual sex toy used to threaten the cops.  This has led to some fantastic comments on the story, among my favorites being, "The policeman refuses to identify the JoyToy. Her lawyers claims it was assault with a friendly weapon."  

4) They actually charged her with a PUI - Pedestrian Under the Influence.  (Ok, this may be more sad than funny.. or maybe just tragically funny?  Either way, worth pointing out.)

5) This actually happened.  Think about that for a second.  This.  Actually.  Happened. 

Sing... Sing a Song...

So this is random, but I figured it was a good time to give a peek into my weird taste in music.

There are 3 bands/artists that dominate my iTunes list:

• The Beatles - There's really no explanation needed here.  Even if you don't like the Beatles (which is clearly wrong, and you must have some kind of defect that keeps you from enjoying the better things in life), you have to admit that they were pretty iconic.  I grew up listening to the Beatles with my parents, and now I have nearly every Beatles song recorded in my possession.
• No Doubt - This is actually by accident, sort of.  Don't get me wrong - I love No Doubt.  I grew up on Gwen and the gang!  Tragic Kingdom was actually one of the first CDs I owned (the very first being The Score by The Fugees).  But the only reason I have as many No Doubt songs on my computer as I do is because we went to see them play at Summerfest in 2009.  After we bought our tickets, we got access to download every single No Doubt song recorded - for free.  How could I pass that up?
• The Glee Cast - Yes, I am a full out Gleek.  Love, love, LOVE everything about Glee!  The show, the music, the actors...  Everything about it makes me happy in my heart (to borrow a phrase from my bestie).  As such, I own a plethora of Glee songs!

 So, that's probably not too weird, I guess.  Taking a look around my "25 Most Played" songs, Glee easily has the majority of the list on lock-down.  However, also on that list are Chris Brown, Queen, Buckcherry, Taylor Swift, Brad Paisley, 3OH!3, Incubus, Badfinger and Murray Head.  

If that's not eclectic enough for you, you should see the list of bands I've seen live.  It goes all over the board, from Peter, Paul & Mary (whom I actually saw in concert twice) to Pat Benetar, Sugarcult to Sugarland, and 311 to 3OH!3.  Sadly, I'm getting to the point in life where I'm really not up for the screaming and insanity that many concerts bring (we've left a few concerts early), so the number of shows I'm attending has dropped significantly in the past year or two (though, you wouldn't know it by looking at the past few weeks - sheesh!).  

Anywhoozles, there's really no point to this post, but why not?  (Ah!  Ah!  I said it!  That's the title!)  I leave you with the following random songs that you should probably listen to, just for fun.  Or not.  Your call. 

"Hold On Tight" - Electric Light Orchestra

"Hard To Believe" - VOTA

"We Belong" - Pat Benetar

"Time Of The Season" - The Zombies

"Take A Chance On Me" - ABBA

One Post - Two Thoughts

So, this really probably should be two separate posts, but, that's just not going to happen, so bear with me.

Thought # 1 - Take your ass-grabbing elsewhere!

Hubby and I went to a concert last night (3OH!3, for anyone interested).  While there, I noticed several things that made me feel...  well, old.  

Many of the kids there were dressed in the most bizarre ways.  

• Mini dresses seemed to be a trend.  I saw several of these.  Not surprising, I guess, but it wasn't exactly mini-dress weather.  It was about 30 degrees last night.  And there was a breeze.  
• Also prevalent were shirts that were purposely cut/torn across the front, seemingly to draw attention to the girl's bra (which was clearly visible, if not sticking out of the cuts in said shirt) and stomach.  I saw a few of these, and most of them looked pretty awful.
• Flannel.  What the f*ck is with the flannel?
• Douchebags with baseball caps were also pretty much everywhere.  It's to be expected, I guess, but jeez.

Seeing all of this made me realize that I have grown up.  I don't dress to "impress" at concerts anymore.  I dress to be comfortable - jeans and a t-shirt, usually a sweatshirt...  No makeup, don't do anything special to my hair...  Just... Me.  In fact, as I pointed out to the hubs, I was even wearing knee socks under my jeans to keep myself extra warm.  Call me a nerd or whatever, but I was comfy.

Then he asked the following question: "How many of the people in this crowd do you think own a house?"  

Well, crap.  I looked around, there were maybe one or two other couples who could've been homeowners.  And, of course, a few parents playing chaperon were probably in the same boat.  But mostly, these were high school and college kids.  Most of them likely didn't even have their own apartments, let alone a house.

Then 3OH!3 asked the crowd how many went to the UW...  Holy shit.  At least in the balcony (where we were), it had to have been a good 80-90% who responded in the positive.  No wonder so many people were drunk as hell!

And yet, I could have forgiven all of it, until I saw one of the couples in front of us.

The female was more than likely drunk, as she seemed pretty wobbly (not to mention they were both holding drinks).  The guy was one of the aforementioned douchebags wearing a baseball cap.  And a few minutes into the main event, his hand went to grab her ass and didn't leave her body until she decided to sit down.  It didn't stay on her ass the whole time (though, that seemed to be his favorite part of her body)...  Oh, no.  I saw some boob grabbing as well.  And, of course, they were having a battle of the tongues, right there in front of us.

My thought is this:  Why in the world would you pay $20-$30 each to come to a concert, get trashed, and grab on each other, when you could do it for cheaper at a bar, club or in your own place?  

Seriously.  Grossness of way too much PDA aside, it just seems ridiculous to me to pay that much just to cop a feel or two.  Mind you, the $20-$30 is just for the ticket - jaeger bombs were going for $6 a piece!  PBR was $4 each!  And neither of those are going to get you drunk with one purchase.  

Yes, I know, they could have started drinking elsewhere.  In fact, I'd guarantee they did.  But they each had at least one drink while there, so now that $20-$30 each becomes $25-$35 each.  We're talking over $50 just to come make out?  Here's an idea: GET A ROOM!  It would be about the same (or a little more) to get a cheap motel room - which you can keep for the whole night - as it would to go to a concert for a few hours (and not even remember what the band was like because you were drinking and sucking face the whole time).

Note: Before you go asking me why I was watching, I didn't have much of a choice.  From where we were sitting, they were directly in my line of view while trying to watch the show.  When hands and tongues are flying all over the place, it's pretty distracting.

Thought # 2 - Happy Anniversary, Maxine!

On a MUCH more positive note, one year ago today we adopted the best dog in the whole world.  Maxine has now been a part of our family for a year, and we couldn't be happier!  In fact, it feels like there was never a time BEFORE we had her.  :-)

So happy anniversary, Maxine McPupperkins!  We love you so much!!