Things Pancreatic Cancer can't take away

My heart has been torn between so very many emotions over the last week. For those of y’all who didn’t know, my dad passed away early last Wednesday morning.

To say that my heart is broken would be putting it mildly. In the weeks leading up to his passing, I had witnessed his decline, and that in itself was the single hardest thing that I’ve ever had to experience. To watch a man that was so full of life, who loved to laugh, and who was so determined to fight against this cancer, struggle with his illness and slowly succumb to the disease left me shattered and broken inside.

Daddy was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at the end of July. This diagnosis came after having problems with pain in the upper right area of the abdomen even after having his gallbladder taken out. He had complaining and going to the doctor since May. Everyone had thought it was the gallbladder, including me. Knowing that pancreatic cancer has a terrible prognosis, our family was in shock. Not only did he have the mass on his pancreas, but the cancer was already in stage 4 and had already spread to his liver. Still, after hearing that he may only have a year or even less to live, my dad was still determined to fight the cancer and get better. He began chemo treatments in early August. They had told us that the chemo would be very aggressive, but we were still not prepared for what was ahead. After two of the aggressive chemo treatments, and after being put in the hospital after both, my dad had dropped 100 pounds. He couldn’t eat. We couldn’t cook because he couldn’t bear the smell. It was horrible. He was weak, he hardly got out of bed. And yet, his co-workers, having loved my dad for many years and being the good people that they are, would come and get him (from Itchetucknee) and drive him to work on the days he felt up to working.

After my dad lost the 100 pounds and couldn’t even keep water down, he was admitted into the hospital for the last time. He spent five weeks there. We watched him struggle with nausea; have a N-G tube put in (a tube that goes down your nose and is used to drain your stomach); have a feeding tube put in; gain 100 pounds of fluid; become unable to walk; and slowly slip into liver and kidney failure. The family was told the Friday before he passed, which was actually his birthday, that he may not make it through the weekend. We did what we could. We threw him a birthday party (which he slept through), and we camped out there so that we could spend every moment we could with him. The last several days, I spent as much time as I could just holding his hand. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, he pretty much slept through the day, but Monday and Tuesday he was wide awake and was able to communicate with us. I will always think back on his face, and how prominent, expressive, and beautiful his eyes were. I am so, so very thankful that God enabled him to talk those last two days. Rheba and I were able to tell him what a great dad he had been to us and every chance we got, we told him that we loved him.

These are the things that I am thankful for: God blessed me with a father that was nothing less than amazing. I am so thankful that I had 25 years with him. I was given the opportunity to tell him how much I loved him. We have had the most amazing family surrounding us these past couple of days and I cannot even begin to express my gratitude for the prayers, cards, food, flowers, and calls that were sent our way. His coworkers have been amazing through all of this. Dr. Acs was the most compassionate doctor that dad could’ve had, and his nurses were wonderful. God surrounded us with wonderful staff at NFRMC and loving nurses that treated my dad like family. I cannot say enough how much Mr. Leroy meant to my dad and my family. And most of all, I am thankful because I know that one day I will see him again.

Saturday, at my dad’s funeral, I had an old friend come up and say “It looks like you’re holding up pretty well.” For some reason that has stuck with me. What an odd thing to say. In fairness to him, it probably seemed that way. Again, it’s been very surreal these past few days. But that was my DAD. A man I loved dearly, a man I laughed with, shared such fond memories, and got a lot of my values from. I am trying to hold it together. But as reality is beginning to set in, and the void is becoming more and more apparent, I am quite sure that I will have days where I won’t want to get out of bed. I am certain that there will be days when I will fall slap to pieces. But see, right now, it’s only starting to feel real to me.

This was the man that had my name on the side of his truck for so long.

This was the man that bought me a shriner’s car when I was 2, because he thought I needed one :)

This was the man who made me a tee-pee in the front yard when I was learning about Indians.

This was the man that I shared so many laughs with and loved dearly.

This was the man that I so wanted to walk me down the aisle and hold my baby one day.

THIS was my wonderful, amazing father.

He will be missed.

I pray that who I am and what I will do in my life will always make you proud.

As sad as I am, I still have so many fond memories to look back on. Pancreatic Cancer is a horrible disease, but there are some things that it can’t take away…

The Laughing Zipper and new Cornbreadisms

There is definitely a reason why I was born and raised in a small town. I’m figuring this out, as this is the 10^th day that I will be driving to and from Gainesville to visit my dad in the hospital. Lord help, I hate making that drive everyday.

Anyways, back to the point of this blog. Well, to all who didn’t already know it: my dad has been in the hospital since last Wednesday. This makes the fourth time he’s been in the hospital since July 3rd. And omg, it’s been a roller coaster.

Now, besides my hatred of the daily drive, I am also getting sick of ALL the restaurants around. See, we have eaten out at least one meal a day since July 24^th. It has been insane. And OMG, my waistline is the tell-tale sign. I have seriously gained like 10-15 lbs and am drawing closer to just going out and buying some pepto-pink, floral muumuus.

I pulled my favorite jeans on the other day (I have like 3 of the same exact pair because I love them so much), and I swear y’all, the zipper laughed at me. It LAUGHED. Though I would like to blame it on a faulty zipper, I cannot. I did a “tuck all the pudge in” dance as I tugged the zipper up, it stayed for a split second, and rolled back down. I even did the lay-on-the-bed-and-try-and-zip method. That was a no-go, too. I went to my mirror, tried again, the zipper rolled back down. I swear y’all, it was mocking me.

Wouldn’t you know, I have to go back and see the doctor soon? That’ll be down-right pleasant, let me tellllll you. But I have a plan…I’m going to bake him a cake. Hopefully, just by my efforts, he won’t give me a hard time. But if he should say something, my response will be this “How the hell do you think I could ever be a size 0 when I bake this good??” …I pray it works. :-P I'll let y'all know!

Now, onto Cornbreadisms in the Hospital…

“For shame” me if you will, but I’ve got to have something to make me laugh.

One night, Brett and Mrs. Pegi came over to visit with him. He was telling them about some “foreigners” he had recently encountered. He said “You know…those people from England that can’t speak good English.” Lol.

Dad: "I need to eat healthier. Here, does someone want this banana they gave me?"

In the middle of the night, he shook his hand at my mama and said “Cindi, bring me a Miami.” Her reply was “what??” “I said, ‘bring me a Miami.’”….we still have no idea what he was talking about. He never got his “Miami.”

He woke up from a dream, on one of the days last week, and told my aunt “I hope Aleta got the lead out of Karter Lee (our dog).” She asked him what he was talking about. He said “I hope she got the lead out of Karter Lee. You know she stabbed her with a pencil.” ….What on earth that was about, I’ll never know. I love that dog! Promise!

The kicker: On Wednesday, he had a feeding tube put in. As they brought him back to the room after surgery, I noticed he kept giving the nurse the hairy eyeball (a/k/a the stink eye). After she walked out, mom asked “Jackie, how are you feeling?” He said “I’m hurtin’ real bad. You wouldn’t believe where they had me.” Mom was like “Where?” “They had me in the woodshed out back! They did my surgery in the woodshed.” He was so serious. And about that time the nurse walked back in and he kept pointing his head in her direction and rolling his eyes like something you'd have seen on Sanford & Son. Signaling that she was the nurse that had taken him to the “woodshed out back.” I had to walk out, I was laughing so hard. Mom was turning a nice shade of red trying to hold it together. He was still as serious as he could be.

Men...

Men… Smart, funny, sexy, sweet men.

I’m telling you what…Give me a man with a good sense of humor, southern accent, man hands, with some meat on his bones (just my type :) ), showing a glimpse of chest hair and you will have me in dire need of a glass of sweet tea and a fan. And don’t even get me started on a man that can sing…pheewwww! Lord help, there’s also something to be said for a man with nice arms that knows how to hug and/or hold you….

Pardon me, I’m getting distracted. Let me wipe my drool and get back on track here…

But men…sometimes dumb, crude, disgusting, tactless men….

Coming home on Friday night from seeing The Help my friend and I nearly ran off the road laughing so hard about some of the things guys say and do. It started with me telling my friend that I had seen a guy that she might be interested in (considering he was clean cut and wearing wranglers and boots) when I was in Hitchcocks the other day. I told her “he seemed your type…I don’t rightly know my type of guy…other than a$$hole apparently.” By the end of the ride home and were nearly in tears laughing so hard. SO I’m going to create a list, a collaborative effort, of some of the funniest and dumbest things some of my friends and I have ever heard men say. Feel free to comment…I know y’all will have some.

-“All my friends are either married or on cocaine.”

-After stating that she had extra clothes in case she got muddy while riding around on four wheelers that day, the guy said “I want you to go home in dirty clothes and tell your mama ‘look mama, I’m a dirty girl.’”

-(One of those “I want to see you” type things) “Oh well, my friends are going to walmart, so they can drop me off at your house and them pick me up when they’re done.” (Said by a 27 year-old).

-“My ex is in the other room…” (as he's trying to fool around with my friend)

-“You wanna go see some deer trails??”

-“If my friends approve of you, you’re alright.”

-said to one of my friends about me “Do you think she’d go out with me? I’d have to bring my mom along.” (from the mouth of a 32 year-old).

-“I’ve been in jail for 9 years. I’m just lookin’ for a good girl…if you know what I mean?”

-“Get behind the truck…no one will see.”

-“Girrrrrl, I like your cheeks.” (No joke. These words were spoken.)

-“Wanna come home with me and make me dinner? You can sleep in my bed.” (…said at about 1 a.m. I guess a Betty Crocker fix was needed??)

-“I’ve got a king size bed and clean sheets.” (THAT was his pick-up line. Well, hot doggg, let me run get my coat!).

-“Don’t use big words around me!!!” (The word was polygamy and he had “Big Love” tattooed on his arm. It was bound to come up…)

The ultimate Valentine screw up moment was the time a guy sent his high school girlfriend a teddy bear with I love you written on a sash across it. I guess he thought “I love you” was too big of a commitment. He had put duct tape across the “Love” and had written “like” with a sharpie… Lord help.

My dear sister has this friend…well, I guess we can call him that. He’s a bit of a stalker. He called her up one night singing “I love you” (just those three little words, over and over and over again). My sister said “What do you want?” He said “I just wanted to talk to my besssst friend.” She replied with “I’m not your dang friend, ___, you need to go out and find you some!!” (It would sound as if my sister is the mean one here...but this is the guy that has called her--having not ever been invited into our house--and gave her vivid descriptions of what he could see that night with the living room light on...)

The best of the best… My friend had me listen to her voicemail one day and I nearly wet my pants.

Her ex’s first message “Honey, you need to call me back.”

2nd message “I miss you honey. Love you!”

3rd message: “I hate your guts and wish you would die.”

4th message: (He could only further express himself through song)

Well could you Paint Me A Birmingham
Make it look just the way I planned
A little house on the edge of town
Porch goin’ all the way around
Put her there in the front yard swing
Cotton dress make it, early spring
For awhile she’ll be, mine again
If you can Paint Me A Birmingham.

I about died…

Men…strong, tactless, sweet, handsome, clueless, men. They do at least give us something to laugh about :)

Just a' cussin'

For those of y’all who know me well, you probably have already realized this. I have one major flaw (well, several,…but I won’t get into that tonight). I have a trash mouth. Trash. Mouth.

I will cuss at the drop of a hat. It just happens. It rolls off the tongue and my teeth just don’t even attempt to stop it anymore. I realized I was a compulsive cuss-er the other day at the hospital. I cussed in front of a minister (mind you, it was a friend and we’ve known each other a long time). Shameful, plum shameful, I tell ya.

I guess my cussing started at an early age, though… My mama used to use the term “hecky-doodle” in front of me (yes, I know, scandalous. But for those of y’all who know my mama, you’d appreciate that :). My dad, a little more liberal with his phrases, used to say “hell” every once in a while. Well, one day when I was about 2, my little mini rocking horse was blocking my way to my room and I kicked it and said “Get the heck and hell out of my way.”

Now, mind you, MY cussing isn’t like something you would see on an old episode of Springer. I do try to class it up a bit (if it even can be…). I use terms like “Well hells bells” and “Oh Shitter!” (the latter paying tribute to my partner in crime). I’m telling you what, though…on those really bad days, it helps you blow off steam. The doctor gives you bad news…say a few four letter words. You accidentally hit someone’s pet turkey with your golf cart…say a few choice words. It’ll make you feel better. Sometimes cussing is a good remedy. Just sayin’…. It might not help situations but it’s one heck of a stress reliever. Hey it’s better than stapler throwing, right?? :)

Patient Cornbread...and I ain't referring to the adjective...

When I was little, my mama used to always say, “you are just like your daddy!” Back then, I took offense to this b/c normally when I had gotten myself into some sort of trouble.

Now, I understand what she meant. My dad and I have very similar personalities.

Well, for those who do not know, my daddy was in the hospital last week. I’ll tell you, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows by any means; but it never fails, my daddy is bound to do something to crack me up.

So, last Wednesday, my daddy was not a happy camper. Not at all. He had been on pretty much a liquid diet since Sunday night. They had cut off foods and liquids on Monday night at midnight, thinking the test he needed to take would be early Tuesday morning. SURPRISE! The doctor wasn’t working that day. So, Tuesday at midnight had rolled around and they starved him again. Grumpy doesn’t even begin to describe his mood Wednesday morning, bless his heart.

We walked in to a miserable Cornbread sitting on his bed, arms crossed and eyes rolling. Mama made the mistake of asking if he’d slept good…

“No, I didn’t sleep good, that old man (the other patient in the room) had his tv going wide a$$ open all night!”

(Thank the Lord the man in the room was deaf as a door knob…which is why his tv was so loud.)

Then we met his nurse of the day, a woman who will ever be known nurse Hitler with the napoleon complex. That woman was mean as a snake. —By the end of the day I was ready to call up friends to round me up some bail money b/c I was ready to throw something at the witch-- After arguing with dad over the time of his test, and several other things, she came back in with paperwork.

“Sir, are you Jehovah’s Witness?”

“Hell no! I’m Baptist! Why in the devil are you asking me that?”

“Jehovah’s Witness don’t accept blood.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve donated 12 gallons of blood over the years. Lotta good that did.” Oh my Lord, was he grumpy.

As a side note, I have to tell y’all…I my sister and I were cracking up the first night we went to see dad.

We had to park in the ABC Liquor parking lot (which I later found out is frowned upon). We start to walk to the doors of the hospital, and we see a doctor lift the back of his Honda CRV. One of those oxygen tanks on wheels comes barreling out and fell on his foot, and he has to chase it across the parking lot. Beeb and I were the rude girls doubled over laughing.

Then, we get in the elevators… For those of y’all having to visit the hospital, there are a few issues with the elevators. There is one elevator, that has the option to go to the fifth floor, but it won’t allow you to go to the fifth floor (even if you push the button a bazillion times…). We went up to the fourth, I pressed the button for like the third time and it didn’t light up, then we started going back down. Well, Rheba got the bright idea to go to the fourth and then take the stairs… Somewhere along the lines, she got out of the elevator and said “screw this,” I didn’t follow, so the doors shut with her standing on the floor, with hands raised going “Wth?” …Then I forgot which floor I lost her on…. I was giggling the entire time going back up the floors trying to figure it out. The nurse thought I was “special.” When we finally got up to the fifth floor, I was about to fall out from laughing so hard.

It’s always an adventure with the Sheffield clan.

Speaking of which...guess where I'm going tomorrow night? My dad wants me to go to a Dog Hunters Association banquet. I don't hunt. So this should be fun. What do I even wear??

I think I may have a problem...

So, y’all know I have a penchant for anything homemade, right? And I love all things crafty? Well, lately, I have the feeling that I will be big contributor to the mad money buckets of two local girls :)
A few months back, my friend Carrie ran an article in the newspaper about a woman selling these cute Zenia pins. Well, one look at the pictures Carrie took, and I knew I had to have one. Now, several pins later, I am hooked. Are these not the cutest things ever? Callie Barkevich makes them, and I can't get enough of them!

And now, Callie is making hairbows too. As I mentioned in my last “my loves” post (as well as several other posts, I believe), I LOVE hair accessories. So this combines two of my favorite things.

I recently found out that a girl from my church is making the rolled fabric flower headbands. I got three recently and I’m in love. Jeni Boland is making them, and they are adorable! I cannot wait to have her do more.

On a side note, if by some chance y’all didn’t believe me… I think I might have a problem. I wonder if there is a support group for hair accessory addicts??...

Sperm Donor Needed

I know that I’m not in the right mindset tonight, and therefore should not be blogging. And I’ll probably regret a million times that I’ve posted this for all the world to see but I’m going to do it anyways.

I’ve had my mama give me a hard time for a while about having her a grandbaby. Nevermind the fact that there is no guy in the picture…she just wants a grandkid. And I understand her point, a lot of the women her age already have a few grandkids…she just seems to have a slacker as a daughter. After my mama had cancer, I cannot tell y’all the kind of guilt that I felt for not having a child at a young age for her to enjoy. That thought was always in my head. Not that I was ready to have a child, but I felt a lot of guilt because of it. She got better and I thought “whew, I have time…”

Last week, I had a guy who loves to give me a hard time come in the Journal. After picking on me for like 10 minutes he made the statement “Well, I know now why you aren’t married.” Kidding or not, I wanted to say “You don’t know crap about my personal life, so shut the hell up.”

Tonight was the kicker. I had someone tell my mama that it might give some people close to me something to live for if I would get with the program already and have a baby.

There’s probably no sense in telling y’all that this is a sore subject. The comment tonight really hurt, though.

On a side note, I’m asking y’all to say a little prayer for my family. We’re having a hard time right now, and can use all the prayers we can get.

My new loves...

I do pretty much this same post every once-in-a-while, talking about my new favorite things. So here’s my newest loves.

1. Mac computers. I’m obsessed…and just as soon as I pay off my car (September…I think??) and pay off my small student loan, I will be purchasing one.

2. Blow pops. I bought a huge bag of candy for my Sunday School class quite a while ago, and needless to say, they haven't seen any of the blow pops.

3. Big hair accessories. This has been a love of mine for quite a while…but it’s had staying power.

4. Will and Kate. I’m a little ashamed to admit that this has been one of my biggest obsessions as of late. But about a month before the wedding, I got hooked. And now, because she is well on her way to becoming a huge fashion icon, I am still hooked. I just love them. And they seem so happy…and Lord knows, that family needs some happiness (or at least to smile more than once a year).

5. Stud earrings. I’m fickle about my earrings. I will be crazy about big hoops, or big, dangly earrings for a little while, then I’ll switch it up and go back to a love of studs. I just have these phases. But I’m stuck on studs right now.

6. The movie Bridesmaids. I. LOVE. THIS. MOVIE. I went to see it twice in theaters…and if I’m completely honest with myself, I probably would’ve went to see it several more times. I haven’t laughed that hard with a movie in a while.

7. All things nautical. I went on Etsy (another love of mine) the other day and found SO many nautical things that I wanted. My wish list varied from little girl crab hairbows (which screamed Allie Claire and Madison) to little boy crab beanies (which screamed Whitt) to an anchor necklace to an anchor wedding cake topper (which I may never find use for). I just love them.

8. Dark fingernail polish, which has been an obsession of mine for quite some time.

9. Mascara. I swear, I must paint ten coats of mascara on my lashes every day. But I have a specific brand I use now, and no other brand seems to compare.

10. Writing. I have been writing up a storm lately…which makes me very happy.

11. Dentyne Pure gum (the green pack). I am a chain chewing, two-pack-a-day-er. Mr. Mark winces every time he sees my trash cans.

12. My Karter Lee. I never thought I’d be a dog person…but I just LOVE this dog. She’s a mess and spoiled rotten.

13. Southern Living Magazine. Their travel section. Their food section. I just love it.

14. My new Chocolate Cavity Maker Cake. So what if it has a little bit of Bailey's Irish Cream in it... :) It is delicious!

15. Southern Living: Off the Eaten Path by Morgan Murphy--technically this is a book (and my fave book list is listed below)...but it's a cookbook/travel book, so it's different. This combines two of my favorite things and it's awesome. A great gift idea for anyone who is a foodie that loves to travel.

Favorite TV shows currently:

Monday Night: All worked up on TruTV…I love the Lizard Lick crew. They crack me up.

Tuesday Night: Pretty Little Liars. Every week, it keeps me hooked.

Wednesday Night: Hot in Cleveland. Who doesn't love Betty White??

Thursday Night: Swamp People… I have quickly fallen in love with this show. The guys are amazing and I totally have a crush on Joe. I'm also dying to get a shirt (in honor of Troy) that says "Choot em.'"

Friday Night: Swamp Loggers. Poor Bobby can’t catch a break, but he seems to take it all in stride.

And yes, I do watch far too much T.V.

Favorite books:

Summer Rental by Mary Kay Andrews—I love her writing, and I finished this book in a day. I couldn’t put it down.

Summer in the South by Cathy Holton--Again, I couldn’t put this book down. Such a good story.

Well, folks, that’s all the favorites that I can think of right now. Toodle-doo!

She's only happy in the sun

As I was listening to “She’s only happy in the sun” on my way to work this morning, I decided I would blog about what’s going on.

Lately, every night when I lay down in my bed I have the overwhelming urge to throw all my clothes in suitcases/laundry baskets/etc, gather all of my important junk, and get in my car and drive. In fact, one day, don’t be surprised when it turns up that I’ve run far, far away. Lol. I can’t even describe it. Maybe…discontent??

For those of you that didn’t already know, I’ve quit my grad program. I know, I know, believe me I’ve heard it… “You’re ruining your future” or better yet “What are you going to do now?!” Amazingly, my mom wasn’t too upset. In fact, I ran it past her the night that it occurred to me at 1 a.m. that it just wasn’t for me and she understood. My dad…Well, when I told him (a week after I'd already quit), panic washed over his face and he spit out “Well, what are you going to do?!” To that…I have no clue. BUT, and a most-important but, I would like this to be recorded…I made a 4.0 before quitting FSU. So, no, it wasn’t my grades that caused me to quit school. I just honestly couldn’t see pouring an un-Godly amount of money into a degree that I no longer saw myself using. For those of y’all that don’t know…Some library policies are RIDICULOUS. And as a side-note, I had the HARDEST time trying to get advisors to get back with me, to answer my questions…and I just kept thinking “this is YOUR job, this is what YOU get paid for.” Don’t worry, when I withdrew from the program…several at FSU got an earful...including the Dean. And I got several apologetic emails. Too little, too late.

But this wasn’t my reason for writing this blog. I’ve always felt like I would spend my life here. I love small towns, and I do love the people here…but I feel like staying here is slowly killing me. After some of the ordeals I’ve been through the past couple of years, it’s hard even driving to work without having a flood of memories cause a lump in my throat.

So, in “summation,” I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life. No clue. I have no idea where I would want to go. But I DO know that if I don’t get out of here soon my butt will be headed to Vista.

If anyone has an idea of anyone that would like to run away with me, let me know :) I’d be happy not to go it alone.

Mufflegargled

Me: “Our dentist is weird, Mom.”

Mom: “How so?”

Me: “He wiggles my jaw when he’s putting in a shot.”

Mom: “I’ve had other dentists do that, too. I like when they do that. That way you don’t feel the pinch from the shot.”

Me: “Yeah, but I bet you’ve never had one wiggle your jaw while saying ‘I’m an alcoholic. I’m an alcoholic.’”

The wealthy may call it “eclectic.” I like to call it “disturbing.” To walk into my dentist office, one would expect to find a tarot card reader and a crystal ball. Just reading this, you don’t get the full picture. There are horse statues jumping out (teeth showing) of flower pots. A witch head on the wall. A mermaid hanging from the ceiling. And as I walk out of the bathroom, it never fails, an Austin Powers life-size cut-out is there to scare me to death. The real doozie is the stuffed cat hanging on the wall with the hair standing up on it’s back and his teeth shining—I’d better explain that I’m not referring to a stuffed toy, I’m referring to something that looks like it may have been real and maybe had made a visit to the taxidermist.

Anyways, back to my story…

So, last week I had to go have a filling put in. My mom had her dental work done before mine, so the dentist had already spoke with her. This was his greeting to me as I walked back to the room.

Him: “So you’re named after Princess Aleta on the Prince Valiant comics.”

Me: “Yes. Kind of. Wow, I’m amazed you caught that. My mama also knew a lady named Aleta, too.”

Him: “Yep, I talked to her about that before you came in. She said they were thinking about naming you ‘Angelita?’ Thank goodness they didn’t. There are a lot of Italian porn stars named Angelita.”

???

I would also like to say here that I HATE when Dentists try to maintain a conversation when they have their hands, their assistant’s hands, and several dental tools in your mouth. This was our next conversation:

Him: “Where do you work?”

Me: (mufflegargled) “Gah-L-cress Counee Jernel”

Him: “Oh, that’s neat. Has anyone ever stolen from your office?”

Me: “Whaaa? I dun thhinkkk sooo.” (and there goes the slurping tool)

Him: “Well, they probably have. You probably just didn’t notice.”

???

This man is one odd duck. But all peculiarity aside, he actually is very nice. So, we’ll see.

(Side note: We left our LAST dentist office because the dentist told me as I was leaving “You have a beautiful face, you just need to lose some weight.” Needless—and proud—to say, my mama had it out with both the receptionist and the dentist that day, informing them that it was not their place to be throwing out comments like that. This dentist had also slapped my sister across the leg because she had worn cowboy boots to her appointment. Insane.)

I’m thinking, between the conversation and the stuffed cat, mom’s dental plan might throw us in the hands of neurotic dentists.

Aleta the Fraidy Cat

For those of you that have me listed as a friend on facebook, you may have seen a status regarding this a month ago. Recently, I set off to find out a name for my fear. Knowing that they have a vast amount of named fears, I figured I would be able to find a name for mine. What is this fear, you might ask? I have a fear of seeing movies that stir any emotion other than laughter. Random, I know, but it’s true. Last year at my birthday, we had first planned to see Charlie St. Cloud….That is, until I had a near panic attack after reading the storyline of the movie a week before my birthday. We wound up seeing Ramona and Beezus (very, very cute movie, btw). Yes, yes, I know…I’m a complete spaz. I blame it on not wanting to cry, or not wanting to get wrapped up in a movie. Yes, comedies are all I wish to see.

Anyways, back to the point, I set off to find a name. I looked at several websites to no avail. But I did find some fears that applied to me. And I did stumble across some fears worth mentioning.

Agoraphobia- Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place. --After reading Paula Deen’s memoir, I totally diagnosed myself with this…However, now, I’m thinking mine is just more of fear of the unfamiliar. (i.e. me feeling the need to run for the nearest exit at a friend’s child’s birthday). Anuptaphobia- Fear of staying single --Enough said. Although, I will add that I have lessened my standards to “mammal” at this point… with a few exceptions (alcoholics, drug addicts, guys that I would still have to mother, and of course, nascar fans) LOL. As of late, there are some very nice women wanting to set me up with their sons…the problem? One boy has a DUI, and is currently jobless due to the DUI, or the other is annoying as heck and has no ambition in life. What. The. Heck? Scopophobia or Scoptophobia- Fear of being seen or stared at. --Didn’t realize until recently how much this bothered me. If I’m in conversation with someone, of course eye contact is fine. However, when it’s dead silent, and I’m being stared at, it kind of freaks me out. I think “Dear Lord, do I have a booger? Do I have something in my teeth?” Iatrophobia- Fear of going to the doctor or of doctors. --I’ve blogged before about this. I’m trying to figure out how I can get my prescriptions refilled and still wiggle out of going to my annual check-up. Here are the fears that just struck me as funny (and my commentary). Genuphobia - Fear of knees. (…how would this work? Don’t look down?) Aulophobia- Fear of flutes. (…?) Arachibutyrophobia- Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth (I’m amazed this one has a name) Bromidrosiphobia or Bromidrophobia- Fear of body smells. (I have a dear friend that is always concerned with whether or not she smells). Brontophobia- Fear of thunder and lightning. (Me, circa 1994). Cathisophobia- Fear of sitting. (Lord help, my feet would get tired) Cypridophobia or Cypriphobia or Cyprianophobia or Cyprinophobia - Fear of prostitutes or venereal disease. (I’ve had a friend that was a complete psycho, and he mentioned this a time or two… When I saw it, the first thing that popped into my mind was the phrase “That poor girl has Gona-herp-a-syphillis.”) Dutchphobia- Fear of the Dutch. Helminthophobia- Fear of being infested with worms. Levophobia- Fear of things to the left side of the body. Linonophobia- Fear of string. (again, …..?) Novercaphobia- Fear of your step-mother. Omphalophobia- Fear of belly buttons. Peladophobia- Fear of bald people. (hehehe) Pteronophobia- Fear of being tickled by feathers. Sesquipedalophobia- Fear of long words. ( “Don’t use big words around me!” Me- “I just used the word ‘polygamy’”…) Walloonphobia- Fear of the Walloons.
The very best of the best, which I also didn’t find a name for, was my good friend that was afraid of midgets (or vertically challenged people, for all of you politically correct folks out there) and mentally handicapped people.

The Cornmuffin

Hey guys...I'm thinking about taking y'alls advice about starting an account on etsy. :) In fact, I've enlisted the help of my Aunt Angie and my mama. I'm finding more and more that I really enjoy making little kids' clothes. Now, I haven't set up my etsy account just yet, mainly due to the fact that I won't be able to make a whole lot this week (it's a bit busy) and because I've got to make several baby items before I can start to make things to sell. Anyways, I'm asking y'all to join the blog I've set up to post pics of the stuff we're making. I've only posted the things from this weekend so far...but hope to add more after this weekend. http://thecornmuffin.blogspot.com

Cynthia Kay...snapped

So, y’all know my mama is crazy, right? Before I get into this, I would just like to say that my sister and I are all-the-time using the term “I will cutttt you.”

Well, the other night we were driving up to the new Murphy gas station when she had a bit of road rage…Well imagine my surprise when my mild-mannered mama says “I’ll cut out your liver” when someone cut in front of her. Now, mind you, she only said this in the car, and only I heard her…but OMG. I was thinking, “Dang, I think Rheba and I have rubbed off on her a little bit.” Then she mumbles, “I think I’ve watched too many episodes of ‘Snapped’ today.” Umm…yeah, I think you have. LOL.

Photos By Amanda Cannon

If y'all will remember my "Mid-twenties meltdown list" post, I had mentioned having my pictures taken. I have only ever had a handful of pictures that I actually like of myself. Well, I had my photo shoot with Amanda Cannon yesterday. She's such a sweetheart, and had great patience with me (as I'm SO not good with all this stuff). Here are a few of the photos. It's odd that I'm saying this about a picture of myself, but I think she did a wonderful job. :)

I was so mad

The title of this post is based on the Little Critter book that I loved as a child.

Have you ever had one of those mornings where you wake up with the desire to give everyone you encounter that day the finger? A day where a little rain cloud seemed to hover above you? A day when you play Mahjong Titans or Solitaire a million times and you lose every single game? A day where each time the front door dings because a customer is walking in, you have the desire throw something at them and say “for the love of Pete, do you REALLY have to come in today?” Today was most certainly one of those days for me. Whether it be that it was a typical Tuesday at the Journal, or because I just felt like crap all day, today was a horrible, horrrrrible day. I have wanted nothing more than to just come home and lay in the fetal position on my bed until a new day dawned. Sadly, my wish was not granted.

People are irritating me. My dogs are irritating me. Inanimate objects are irritating me. :) I need to get out of this town, and soon. I need a vacation, or I think my head is going to just pop off. Or I’m going to turn into one big mass of hives. OR I’m going to become “Crazy Aleta,” the woman that walks down the street talking to herself only stopping occasionally to bang her head into a light pole :) The prospects are grim, I tell you, grim.

WTH?

So I opened up my Facebook, and because I'm friends with the Crooked Creek Mud Bog, their pictures show up on my feed. They had a mud bog over the weekend. Apparently this vehicle was participating...I can honestly say...I've never seen a PT Cruiser jacked up. WTH? Too funny :) I love it.

Indescribable luck

As I sit here in a pit of self-loathing because I ate some super greasy chicken strips from the Crack Shack for lunch (seriously, I do believe my esophagus is attempting to come alive just to slap me in the face) I can't help but chuckle about last weekend...

I'm going to tell y'all a little bit of a backstory to get to the story that I want to tell you about...

Last weekend was my friend, Krystle's, 25th birthday. You know we had to do something special. Though I didn't get to put as much planning into it as I'd hoped, and though it didn't go as I had originally planned, we had a blast. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. The plan was to go to Carrabbas for dinner with the group, then a few of us would go to a movie afterwards. Well, a string of crazy events took place, so our group decreased as the last week drug on.

We got all gussied up and went to Carrabbas for dinner and had a great time. Good friends, good food, good times...(and a key lime trifle that, if I do say so myself, was delicious). We went to see Country Strong afterwards. As I was walking up the ramp to go in the movie theater, I rolled my foot and about busted my butt (the irony is...I was no longer in my heels...but my flip flops). My foot hurt, but I didn't think it was too bad. This movie wasn't one that I was busting at the seams to go see...but actually it wound up being a VERY good movie. A little sad, but very good. I went home that night, after KW's big birthday adventure, and climbed into bed...utterly exhausted.

The next morning, I woke up with my foot throbbing. I nearly cried as I tried to put pressure on it to get out of bed. It took me about 5 minutes to get to my mom's room, which was right next to mine. I begged her to take me to the Emergency Medical place in Gainesville. She agreed...

As my family has their priorities in order (as always), we had to drive to (outside of) Williston to get horse feed first. All the while, my foot throbbing. But now I'm so, so glad we did. I saw something that you just don't see everyday...especially in Williston...

I saw a black tranny in a dress and faux fur coat doing jumping jacks in the parking lot of a jiffy store.

I about rolled. Hilarious.

To finish this story, I found out that I had "sprained my foot." It's better now. It hasn't really hurt me much since Tuesday. However, if ever you have something happen to your foot/ankle, I pray that you know how to use crutches already. I had the nurse laugh at me trying to hobble-crutch myself out of the doctor's office. The compassion overfloweth. ha.