Something happened on the evening of September 10th (it’s part of the 83% I’ll never share), and my mind has been spinning with questions ever since.
41 days filled with questions! Shall we explore a few of them? Please feel free to attack many or none!
1. Mascara on the bottom lashes. Is this still a thing? I still do it, but I’m not sure I’m supposed to. (The only thing that has changed in my makeup routine since 1985: I no longer light my eyeliner ON FIRE before applying it.)
17. I’ve tried the washing machine cleaning beady things. I’ve tried vinegar. Why do our clothes still smell sort of sour? Our washing machine will be eleven years old in March. Is it time for a new one?
23. Why do so many people assume that Vegetarian = Enigmatic? Honestly. I don’t eat meat. I don’t care if you do. I really don’t. It’s not difficult for me to find something to eat, and I’m so much more than Bewildering Girl Who Eats Plants. (Side story: Jeff and I went to an amazing vegetarian restaurant on Saturday night. The people at the table next to ours were definitely not vegetarians, and they had a lot of questions. “I want the tacos, but I like chicken or beef in my tacos. WHAT DO YOUR TACOS TASTE LIKE?!” “I’m headed to the symphony in two hours. Since I don’t know what your tacos are made of, I need to know that they are not cooked with a bunch of alcohol.” “You don’t have diet soda?! And you’re telling me that real sugar is better for you than sugar substitute?!” “They have beet fries but they don’t have French fries?! What’s wrong with potatoes?!” (Nothing. Nothing is wrong with potatoes.) I’m all for questioning everything and arming yourself with information, but why go to a vegetarian restaurant if you’re going to raise your eyebrows at every single thing that comes out of the server’s mouth? Also, how many ways can he explain Vegan Cheese before you just smile and either give it a whirl or pass?) ((My line is always, “I’m a vegetarian, but I’m not a jerk about it.” I know. I’m starting to be a jerk about it. I’m starting to be a jerk about a lot of things. Just ask Meredith how I responded this morning when she told me that it was too cold to do her homework. Fact: When I’m not in the mood for excuses, I can bring everyone in the room to tears in less than two minutes. You have no idea.))
26. I’ve been doing a lot of research. I’ll spare you the details (because the details include the words Ovary and Really Shitty Pain), but please know that along with research (online and printed because I’m thorough!), I’ve spoken to quite a few people who have had hysterectomies, and they ALL claim that the hysterectomy changed their life for the better. I went to the doctor last week, and she said that instead of doing a hysterectomy, she would like to inject a chemical into my butt that will fake out my girl parts into thinking they’re in menopause. We’ll then have six months to see how menopause will be for me before I actually start menopause in the next decade. I’m not a doctor, so I feel really weird about questioning the plan. (Beet fries?! Are you kidding me?!) BUT, what if the menopausal effects are actually side effects of the drug? How will I know the difference? Does this even make sense? It’s all I can think about lately because: Pain! Burning! Urgency! Endometriosis! Crying! Too much time spent in bed with a hot water bottle! How many cups can I pee into before we know what’s going on? (So far? Three cups in three weeks. This morning’s was actually paper instead of plastic, which felt like such a refreshing switch-up. Does anyone else ever feel the urge to pee into the cup and then throw that cup against the wall like Mötley Crüe? I never do it, and I probably never will, but The Urge Exists, and I picture myself doing it every single time.) (I did a cut and paste for those Mötley Crüe umlauts. I am not a keyboard wizard.)
29. Let’s take a break and talk about happy things. This sandwich is my very favorite sandwich right now. Also, this is my favorite ink color. A few years ago, I won a contest that involved designing a Pringles can. (I know. Life is weird.) One of the prizes was an iPod Touch. Because I already had one, I gave it to Jeff. Anyway, my iPod touch (first generation, six years old) died last week while playing the Teen Beach Movie soundtrack for Harper. (I really wish it would have gone out on a higher note.) Because he’s a gem, Jeff cleared off the Pringles iPod and presented it to me last night. I then spent nearly an hour putting music I love onto the “new” iPod. It was the most fun I’ve had in weeks. (I no longer pretend to like every single Andrew Bird song, and how freeing is that?!) This morning I dropped the kids off at school and headed out to pee into a cup while listening to a shuffle of my very favorite songs. It felt like Christmas and beet fries. Beet fries! Imagine the possibilities!
31. A friend of mine wrote this. It’s perfect and it honestly explains what I go through every time I pick up the telephone or sit down to write an e-mail.
34. I just realized that I’m not really writing questions at all. Guess what? As I type this post, a doctor at a vet school is formulating a homemade diet plan for our poor itchy Henry. In less than two weeks, I’ll be cooking vegetarian meals for Jeff and I, meaty meals for the kids, and God knows what for the dogs. (I had to fill out a checklist of foods I’m not opposed to cooking for Henry. Venison was on the list, as was lamb. I love my dogs, but I couldn’t check those boxes. I checked millet. Lots of beans. Cow stuff. Bird stuff.)
38. I have carrot cake in the refrigerator. Vegetarians can eat cake! (And lots of it, Betty Crocker.)