Stickers

I once had a sticker album. It was FULL of every kind of sticker imaginable. There were glitter stickers, scratch and sniff stickers, bumper stickers, Strawberry Shortcake stickers, Hello Kitty stickers, Star Wars stickers. . . You name it, I had it in there. Sometimes I would try to peel a sticker off a page. I'd grown tired of it. It didn't represent what I wanted "in" my sticker album. But inevitably, when I'd try to tear a sticker from its page, there was always a little bit left behind. Usually, I'd try to cover up the remnant of the old sticker with a new one. But I could always see some of the old underneath the new.

We are all stickers on someones page; and no matter how hard we try to peel one off or cover one up. . . there is always a little left behind.

Words, Words, Words. . . .

During a discusion over the season finalé of Grey's Anatomy with Mel, she prompted me to read her blog over her stolen word "mangerines".

After laughing and chuckling and giggling over the creation of words we further discussed my renewed love of the Thursday night TV Series.
You see, my beloved show, for all intense purposes Jumped the Shark when Izzie operated on a deer to save it's life. The show had taken a turn for the gore.
THIS is NOT why I love this show!!! I love it for its DRAMADY!!!

THAT'S right. . . except for Mel who in fact heard it fall from my lips YOU dear readers are reading it here first!
I AM CALLING IT!
By the year 2010 the Academy of TV people will have a new category!!!
DRAMADY!!!

Death of a Toenail: Day 2

Yesterday ended bad for the ole toe! About 3:15pm, I rounded the corner of my desk forgetting about the 3 foot metal banner that lie against it.
WHAM! You guessed it! Toe. . . meet metal banner.
In all my sports injuries, surgery and general screw ups, I do not think I have ever experienced a pain as intense as that. (yea yea yea, if I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times. . . childbirth. I choose NOT to inflict pain on myself purposefully, especially one that lasts 18+ years!)
ANYWAY, I saw stars, broke out in a cold sweat and thought I was going to barf.
Tears instantly welled into my eyes as the pain continued.
Once I regained composure I, in typical Clark style, threw the banner across my office not caring where or how it landed as long as it was out of my path - FOREVER!
Instantly the swelling began forcing blood out of the two holes I made earlier in the day and within 10 minutes the throbbing began again. I'd had enough. I packed up and drove home. Two Tylenol, a HUGE glass of wine, a dish of vinegar (thanks mom!) I sat down on my couch.
45 minutes later I removed my toe from the vinegar, washed it off and examined the results of my mother's home remedy. Sure enough the soreness AND the swelling were significantly less. (GO MOM! Maybe she DOES know everything?!?! Oh God, did I just write that???)
Worn out, I wrapped my toe in a band aid and headed for bed.

Today (Day 2) feels better but looks worse. The little bit of nail that used to be adorned with "It's a Doozie Soozie" red OPI polish is now stained yellow-brown from the balsamic vinegar. (IT IS ALL I HAD PEOPLE!)
There is bruising beginning to appear on the left side and along the cuticle, further convincing me that I will in fact be losing the nail.

It's about 3:00pm in the afternoon and my toe has had enough of me sitting - runnin around - sittin - runnin around. It's beginning to throb. My left leg is now slung up on top of my desk. Sexy and VERY work appropriate!
I came prepared today with Tylenol which I will consume as soon as I finish this update.
Tonight I am going to try to pedicure the 9 survivors. I'll have to keep the "Toe of Death" unpainted. I need to make sure it doesn't become infected and all that great stuff - and yes, it's going to look Super Sexy.
I'm sure I'll come up with something. (haven't acquired the novelty band aids yet)
For now I leave you with the Day 2 pic.
Toe-ttles

Death of a toenail - still Day1

The throbbing is starting to irritate me.
It's not that it "hurts" it's just uncomfortable and annoying.
SO, deciding since the pressure COULD be relieved it is silly for me to sit here and deal with it.
Thumbtack in hand, I made the gentlest of attempts to the soft quick that lie beneath the Toenail of Death.
I should have grabbed a tissue BEFORE I began!
Blood went everywhere, as much as one big toe can produce.
I made one more puncture hole and squeezed. GENTLY!
I can't say for sure that I feel immediate relief . . . oh wait. . .I just put pressure on it - it actually feels a little better!
this is going to be a pain in the ass . . . I mean TOE!!!

The death of a toenail.

It was yet another amazing weekend! The weather was every bit as diverse as my activities but all of it could not have been any better; that is until Sunday night.
Needing to blow off some built up steam I excitedly accepted an invitation from my neighbors to play tennis!
I pulled on some shorts, laced up my shoes and pulled the racket from the trunk of my car!!! Less than 15 minutes into hitting I realized that I still had "sandal toes."
"Sandal toes" are toenails grown slightly longer so that the polish looks more manicured. And yes, while they are quite lovely in my vast array of strappy summer sandals, they are not conducive to the sudden starting, stopping, sliding and cutting within the constraints of tennis shoes.
Two and a half hours and three sets later, in a dash across the court, tip of my racket connecting with the ball, a stop and pivot in the opposite direction . . .
I felt the toenail rip from its bed. I knew instantly it was not good.
It's gonna fall off, I know this. I've never lost a nail before and I've heard that it is uncomfy and not pretty. We're gonna watch and see!
I have a high tolerance for pain, so I'm not worried about that. I'm more concerned that it's summer, it's gonna look ugly and I'm really gonna miss painting it!
While at 3rd St. Stuff on Saturday I noticed a couple different novelty band aids.
I think that will be my ticket. I'm just going to keep the nine piggies perfectly pedicured and adorn one of their leaders in fancy, funny band aids.
So here we go!
Day 1

Wednesday I did dishes, the old fashioned way.
A little suds in the sink, some good steamy hot water. . .
Insert dirty dishes here.
Reaching for a pan I heard a horrid sound.
My favorite wine glass - even though I could not yet see it through the fluffy white suds I knew in my heart, it was broken.
I lifted it carefully from the water and sat it on the counter confirming the sound indeed belonged to the glass.
Its lip lie buried at its bottom the sharp edges were no longer inviting me to an afternoon drink. I was angry with myself for putting something so delicate in with pans to begin with. Oh well, nothing I could do so I carefully placed it in the trash.
Last night I wanted a glass of wine. As I turned towards the shelf of glasses I realized I'd have to drink from a new glass. I was a little saddened yet again that I had so carelessly broken my favorite.
But alas, I reached for a new glass, poured, and low and behold, the wine was just as good and I enjoyed it just as much. I will miss my old glass but . . .

Here's to out with the old - in with the new!
Cheers!

. . .and at the end of the day, there was a silent promise.