38 Special

So here we are at today - the first day of the rest of my life...

I've decided to turn over a new leaf. To release myself from the chains of negativity and helplessness.

I resolve to focus more on the good things about my life and less on the slings and arrows of other people's shit.

I will work harder, stronger and better at making the outside a better reflection of the inside.

I will take better care of my body, my mind and my spirit.

I will be the best version of me.

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

But wait....

There we go!

Foiled!

Just this once, I was going to break my rule about blogging work and brag about meeting the President yesterday. That would be Mary McAleese for those of you across the pond. And for the record, the lady is a class act!

For whatever reason, the blogger photo upload thingy that allowed me to share with you that ridiculous leprechaun, won't let me show you this country's incredible Ambassador. In the words of Homer Simpson...
D'OH

Hacked!

I received this virus through my email account today...



hope it tickled your funny bone!

P.S. I learned how to upload an image - go me!

Late Breaking News

I started this post to tell you that I got my results and I'm now a qualified massage therapist. I'm happy about it, but can't really find a way to talk about it much. I don't know if the fact that it took them so freaking long to get the results to us (my last exam was on the 22 of July) has led to it feeling surreal or anticlimactic in some way or if there are other things that I'd really rather spew right now.

I've been meaning to write more stories about the trip home. There were some great times, and as always with my mother, some seriously shitty moments... at least she's consistent.

Her oh-so predictable attack on me was actually funny. That she tried to recruit my seven year old daughter to play her fucking head game was completely off side. But I feel pretty stuck about this one. If I confront her, she'll go directly into victim mode. If I don't, she'll continue to try to use my child as a pawn in her bid to control my life. Right now, I too am playing my old predictable hand - call it "taking space", "time out", "disengaging", the core of it is that I'm plain ole not speaking to her.

We were sitting in a restaurant having breakfast when she dropped the ball by telling our girl not to forget what Nanny told her. Naturally, I wanted to know what that was. Our girl said that she'd been told that when we got back to Ireland she was to tell Mummy that she needed to move home to Canada.

One look at my mother's face told me that our girl was neither confused nor exaggerating. I said quietly, "That's so unfair".

Her response was a dismissive, "she'll forget about it".

Then we all went outside and had family pictures, hugs and kisses.

No wonder my guts are such a fucking mess!

Hiss-terical

Last week, while walking through the Leonardo DaVinci airport in the middle of the night, we happened upon a woman in full burka who was marching purposefully behind what I can only assume was her husband.

As she neared our girl, who was wearing a short sleeved sporty dress with tracksuit bottoms under it, she pointed and hissed at her. It sounded like "HISSSSSSSSSSTTT".

When I turned to look at her, she gave me what I think was meant to be a meaningful look. Without any experience reading eyes only, I'm not quite sure what this hiss meant.

If anyone has any insight, I would appreciate hearing from you... particularly around why that woman thought it was okay to "comment".

Deepthroat

So, today I willed a taxi through the insane Dublin traffic to get me to the hospital on time for my much waited appointment in the endoscopy suite. It worked. I'm pretty sure I wish it hadn't.

When I arrived, I discovered that I was meant to arrange for someone to pick me up. Hubby had worked a night shift and so was out of commission. I rang around a bit and wasn't able to get anyone but since I was going home by taxi, I didn't panic. Perhaps I should have.

When they finally got around to me (no snide comments about cups of tea, the place was packed) I discovered that without a personal escort from the suite to the taxi rank, they were unable to sedate me for the procedure. Damn. I love good drugs!

I was assured that the procedure would only take a few minutes and the guy on duty today was a genius and I should go ahead. As I'm highly suggestible, I did.

They sent me off to change my top for a gown; while I was there I decided to meditate a little. By the time they had me hooked up to the monitors, my heart rate was 54 beats per minute. I was in the zone!

Then they gave me some gawd awful spray to freeze my throat (read: kick off the gagging) and a hard plastic circle to protect my teeth (read: lock my jaw in the open position). And then they shoved a camera on a cable down my throat and into my stomach. I left the zone and commenced wretching and crying. Through it all, I did not struggle which makes me think either I'm really thick or I must have known on some level that I really needed this. A few minutes and three biopsies later I was upright.

The doctor that did the procedure explained to me that the lining of my stomach is inflamed and I have a hernia. What the biopsies are supposed to tell him is whether those things are causing my symptoms or whether they are symptoms of a bigger problem.

I came home and googled it all - as you do - but didn't find anything conclusive (I know, I was shocked too). I see the consultant again in four weeks... hopefully, I'll manage to blog something a little more entertaining between now and then!

No Rest For the Weary

Jetlag is kicking my ass. It's also turning my children bipolar. One minute they're on top of the world, the next in the depths of despair. And I'm not far behind them.

Hubby goes back to work tomorrow, but he's on nights so being all turned around actually suits him right now.

I experienced a good few cliches on my trip such as "There's no place like home", "You can never go home again",(how schizophrenic is that?) "It's the simple things in life that count the most"and the ever popular "Family matters" and/or "You can't choose your family".

I hope to soon have enough brainpower to elaborate. In the meantime, I'll continue to cruise your blogs and leave nonsensical comments where I can.

Home Again, Home Again, Diggity Dog

Hi hunnies..... I'm hoooooooooooome.

The journey was long (like 28 hrs) but basically uneventful. I have a few stories to share and hopefully some pics as well - we'll see how I do. Right now I'm working on getting through my travel induced narcolepsy.

I'm working on catching up with you all! It appears that you've created a tonne of new links for my reading pleasure... that always keeps me busy for a while.