Mae at the Park

I had such a fun time with Mae and Britt at the park today. She was so happy to see all the kids running around. Here are the highlights

Help me! Funny People Needed!

"Help me! Funny People Needed!"
Seeking funny person/persons to
help an assaulted dental hygienist.
Awesome joke needed ASAP.
Reply on blog. Cupcakes to winner.
Road Cyclist need not apply.


I'm in an infuriating endless cycle of one joke.
One joke. Over and over and over.
And each person thinks they are so stinkin funny and original. It would help if everyone else didn't laugh at them...
And then after the laughing dies down they look at me for a rebuttal and I just yell "You're stupid! Maybe you should brush you teeth! Come here I'll clean them *Enter evil laugh and Stitch hands clawing at the air*)"...
So it doesn't go well and I need help.
I need a reply so witty and clever that everyone laughs with me, shaking their heads at the other person for being such a ridiculous idiot for ever having said the joke to begin with.
No pressure or anything.

Ok so here are the details of "The Joke"

I have just been introduced to a new person/group of people.
I say my name and when asked my profession I reply that I am a dental hygienist.
Then one smart donkey says "Why is it that the dentist always tell you not to poke your teeth with sharp things when that's the first thing they do? Then they tell you your gums are bleeding. No duh you just poked me with that sharp thing."
*Enter everyone but me laughing*
This makes me so angry at it's inaccuracy! I just want to yell at them "FLOSS YOUR FRICKIN TEETH!! THEN THEY WON'T BLEED AND P.S. I CAN SMELL YOUR GINGIVITIS FROM A MILE AWAY!"
But that is not tactful in dignified society. And it doesn't make me very many friends.
So you see my conundrum. I need a response. Otherwise they think they are right! I need a zinging one-liner that leaves them with their jaw hanging open at my cleverness but they don't really understand how mean it really was.
And by the way, how does everyone know this joke and everyone not know it? I mean I have heard this joke so so so many times. And each time the audience has never heard it and laughs at the original cleverness! How can this be?!

Your assignment should you choose to accept it:
Create a reply to this:
"Why is it that the dentist always tell you not to poke your teeth with sharp things when that's the first thing they do? Then they tell you your gums are bleeding. No duh you just poked me with that sharp thing."

Please help the poor invalid who listened to Jane Eyre in the dark last night on Netflix with the screen facing the sheets because the light blinded her sensitive migraine pupils. Think of the children. Think of Christmas. Think of your birthday.

I had to keep pausing because I couldn't stop laughing and I really wished I had someone's arm to shake in excitement.

Lisa Frank	UCBcomedy.com
Watch more comedy videos from the twisted minds of the UCB Theatre at UCBcomedy.com

Why my eye twitch is back...

Another sad and funny story for you.

So I've got eye twitches periodically in my fretful life. The most infamous follows my incomplete in Hygiene school (Haven't heard that epic tale. Click here. p.s. I almost/always cry every time I re-read it ) Wait don't laugh. That's not the funny part yet. Oh well go ahead.
So my eye twitches usually last a month or so.
It is a fate worse than death. Don't believe me? Think it through. You are going through your day when all the sudden your left eye lid decides it is going to start closing whenever it wants, and it's going to make all your other facial muscles nervous.
You imagine that everyone you come in contact with is staring at your twitchy eye thinking judgy-pitying thoughts at you.
But I thought I have beat the system.
1st eye twitch- Hygiene School- lasted approx. 3 months
2nd eye twitch- Migraines- 21 days
3rd eye twitch-last Thr. - 3 days
But no. It's back. Such a short dormant period... Alas!


Ok so here is the quick synopsis in memorable quotes (If anyone else was present to hear them)
"But why is it so orange?!"
"Bloody!"
"Ah I burned my arm!"
"Bloody!"
"Welcome home Matt"

Still have questions? Alright here's the long version but I tried to avoid it.

So I'm having a day that averages a Level 4 but it's a Level 2 now. Yeah. I'm all like "I'm gonna make dinner like a grown-up-real wife. And guess what in-laws? It's even going to be vegan! Yeah me, right?" No. Not right. So ages ago I bought Vegan Yum Yum the cookbook. Mostly it's more Yuck Yuck but Matt was like "let's just try to be healthy." So we try sometimes. Most of the recipes we both hate but I've spent 2 1/2 hours cooking it. So I AM GOING TO LOVE IT. Matt doesn't have the same motivation so he eats about half. (He eats half because I threatened some awful things after the veggie burger incident. We try not to speak of it.
So I've decided to make more yummy things so we don't hate them> so I don't yell at Matt> so I don't feel like an awful wife for making a yucky dish and then yelling at my husband.
But for whatever reason. Sunday-Night-Grocery-Shopping-Megan was all like "Yeah Vegan Fettuccine Alfredo."
Groan
So I start making it tonight. My procrastination and general trepidation should have been a warning. I mix all the items together in a blender to make the sauce. I love my optimism at this point. I'm putting all these foul smelling things into the blender: nutritional yeast, spicy mustard, nutmeg, paprika...cashews? I keep thinking "When all these things go into the blender, they will transform into delicious Olive Garden Alfredo but healthy." I keep mixing. I keep smiling. Any second now the magic will start. I start the blender. Any second now... Ok now. Say now right before you hiccup. Nothing? Nothing.
It is so yucky looking/smelling. The picture in the book is all white creamy goodness.
I keep shaking the blender " But why is it so orange?!"
The magic never came. I pour the potion down the sink. The magic never came? I rinse the blender. My whole life is a lie!
But even then I'm all cheerful. "It's all right, Megan. Cheer up! Every day is fresh with no mistakes in it yet!" Ah but it's not a new day...
So I grab some can spaghetti sauce from the cupboard. I let it simmer. Then all the sudden *Bing* Genius Idea. I'll make toast to go with this meal. That will save it. That will be my magic! Toast! So simple. I pull out the toaster oven and get to work! I turn the timer to toast and stare at it. The timer goes off. It's not toasted, I've been watching. I turn the timer again. "I've got time to read a little Thursday Next. I'll hear the timer."
I don't hear the timer. It is black. It is the beginning of the end. I pull out the toast and throw it away. I reach around to pull the cord and my forearm touches the toaster oven top for a moment.
"Bloody!" I yell as I pull back my precious burned arm. "Ah I burnt my arm" I yell at the toaster oven. I rush it under some cold water and pout a minute.
* I should have remembered the lesson I learned at the Nation's house. So I'm 10ish maybe and I've spent the night at the Nation's house. I assume Brittany was there. Heck when she hears this story she'll probably say it really happened to her and not me. So any ways it's morning and I want to make a Poptart in the toaster over. There is lots of stuff on the counter and I have to push it back to reach the toaster oven. But a bag of bread got left on top of the toaster oven. I start cooking. I smell a smell that is not S'more Poptart scent. the bag is burning in a massive black charr. The bread is burning. Everything is burning. Peggy is yelling at me. The rest is a blur.*
Back to the present. And I hadn't learned a thing.
Then I hear several noises.
I lift the lid of the sauce to find it runny with black chunks floating in it that are now splattering all over my face and clothes in acid rain. I've burnt the sauce.
I then lift the lid of the pasta as water boils all over the sides.
Enter second "Bloody."

Then poor Matt has to comes in at the end of all of this. We had chick-fil-a for dinner.
And my eye twitch is back.
Plus my stupid arm burn hurts but I don't even have a red mark to show for it!!!
P.S. Matt thinks it the most hilarious thing in the world that "Bloody" is my go-to cuss word.

Worst super power EVER!

So I've been blessed with many super powers (Some call them spiritual gifts. "Some" meaning me)

1. Very fast letter stuffing and other clerical skills. (I usually beat Brittany)
2. Knitting with my eyes closed (I can thank my migraines for that one)
3. Ridiculous recall of every word from every Disney movie I've ever seen (Teresa tested me on this spiritual gift, not believing. Cody was a little concerned to hear singing/yelling of Disney songs coming from her Imagination Room)
4. Cat whisperer (Matt calls this a curse)
5. Super-Imagination example: The ability to scare myself with a story I just made up and was telling to other people. (I call this one a curse)
6. Boggle skills (but now I'm just bragging)

And my newest super power.
Earthquake detecting vertigo. Yeah! It's as unfun as it sounds.
So my migraines have taken a horrible new turn of events. (Tired of my migraine saga? too bad)
I now have crazy vertigo. What is this? Until yesterday I thought it was only something old people made up when they didn't want to be reclined in the dental chair. And I secretly thought they were lying and hated them for making me stand up to clean their teeth, thus hurting my back.
So Monday night I keep waking up/ dreaming that I'm super dizzy. I think I'm imagining it. (See super power #5) But trying get out of bed, I stand up & I fall down. The world is spinning. I stagger to the bathroom. Everything seems fine now... until I bend over. It looks like the world is in a washer. Everything is turning 45 degrees to the right like in a whirlpool. Upon righting my head everything is better. I think "I can do this. Who needs to bend over or look up or to the side or turn one's head quickly in any direction? Not me. I test it a couple times. Maybe it's gone now. I bend over and look at my feet. Yep I feel nauseous and want to throw up, still there.
So I go to work. 1. I am an overachiever and hate being late/ missing things. 2. I am terrified my boss will be mad if I miss work. So I go. This whole super dizzy thing continues all day. Often I have to grab something to keep from falling over until the world rights itself. But here comes the super power part. At about 1:50 we have an earthquake. Sooo scary! But really not a big deal.
So I start to put things together. Sudden severe dizziness + earthquake tremors = I can predict earthquakes with vertigo.
Don't try to follow the logic, clearly simple cause and effect addition is not one of your super powers.
Don't try and point out that this is the stupidest super power ever; I'm very aware of it. I mean so what, it's not like I could prevent an earthquake and even tell when it would come. But I'll try next time
"So hey, I'm mostly sure an earthquake is coming sometime in the next 12 hours, so just go ahead and evacuated everything."
No? Well you can't say I didn't warn you.

So I come home and feel so bad I can't even work on my Halloween costume (Yes I know Halloween is very far away but that's another blog post). I lay in the dark with an eye mask on. Matt comes home. Lights on. Hissing like a deep-sea fish... yadda yadda yadda you know the drill.
Then this morning. Guess what? It's back. Is this still leftovers from yesterday's earthquake prediction or is another one coming? We'll find out I guess but stay close to a door frame just in case. (I think that's what you are supposed to do ...)

I call my neurologist, who can't confirm or deny my prophetic abilities, and her nurse says "Oh it's just vertigo."
Me "..."
Her "..."
Me "Yeah so what do I do?"
Her "Umm I guess I can give you a prescription for motion sickness."
Me"...."
Her"..."
Me "But what causes it?"
Her "It's benign. nothing to worry about." **side note: does anyone else realize that is not an answer
Me "So this just happens sometimes"
Her "Yeah. It will probably go away. If not it could be because the ear stones have been misplaced in your ears."
** Yes that is a quote, who knew we had ear stones? and how do they get misplaced?
Her "If that's the case we can do a procedure to fix them."
Me "Ok so I'll use the prescription. Thank you?"

Yeah so we'll see. As of now the prescription is doing very little.

Has anyone seen my ear stones?

She's right again

Life Moral: Mother is always right

You'd think after the billion times she has been right in the past, I would just listen. But no.
Here is the situation:
I am packing my belongs before my wedding. Deciding what to keep, give away, and throw away. The classic organizing system I've known all my life. We've done this once a year for my entire life. Sorting barbies, littlest pet shops, melanie's mall, light up jeans, Hanson posters... The list goes on. Keep, Give Away, Throw Away. Sounds simple right? Not right!
Ok so Mom & I are sorting. But this time there is a fourth category: "Leave at my parent's house" Hmmm
Clothes: keep. Plastic 4'' high heels: throw away. Life-time chronicling diaries and journals...
I am so torn. My whole childhood, prayer journals, dating years, hygiene school struggles are all locked in those journals. Giant chunks of my life that I'll forget someday if I don't remind myself. I am holding them in my hands riffling through the numerous books but riffling carefully because Mom is still in the room. No living creature has seen a page of these except myself.
What am I to do?
Bring them with me into my marriage home? Honestly, most of those memories I don't want to remember because I am much more prolific in times of hurricane- strifes than times of rainbow sunshines . And also I don't really want to remember all the things I got mad at Matt about while we were dating (Substantially founded or not. mostly not)
But throwing them away. My souls scrunches up a little at the thought. Those journals are kind of like a horcrux for me. A younger, sillier self is pressed upon the pages like an ancient flower.
So I say to mom "Hmm what to do with these journals.. I don't really want to bring them all into my married house."
"Oh you'll want those someday. You can just leave them here and I'll put them in your box"
** clarification time** "My box" is a hodge podge of childhood memorabilia. Honor roll certificates. Awana awards ( not as many as are in Harrison's box :( , poems, doodles, my first novel : How to tell if a boy likes you. Thrilling stuff.
Reader, to you this may sound like the perfect spot for my journals. Where else would they belong except by my innumerable cat drawings. Aha but you are wrong. There is one critical flaw of the "box system". They are open for public use. Public use. As in anyone in the family can riffle through whomever's box at whatever time. My lungs constrict just writing that down. My soul-horcux-journals in my siblings hands. (Brittany, I can see your fingers itching for them as I type this) . Let me reiterate no living creature has seen a page of these journals. No one. EVER. I think poorly veiled threats are on the cover of several of my journals promising a painful and lengthy death by torturing if anyone else where to even touch the cover.
This is where my siblings and I greatly differ.
Brittany: She must share her feelings or she will actually explode. For real. She tries sometimes to keep secrets and keep her feelings to herself but she can't. Not that that's a bad thing. It's actually much better than the alternative: Me
Harrison: He must also share his thoughts and feelings but mostly because he's so clever and awesome. (Britt & I have always known you were the favorite. You were our favorite too) You couldn't keep them to yourself even when Stephen King expressly forbids you to share your information, you can't help yourself. Again not that it's a bad thing. Not that Stephen King is always right.
Me: My thoughts and feeling and dreams and wishes are locked in a box, inside a chest, inside the cupboard under my left fourth rib. Don't try to find it. But unfortunately it is a box with boundaries and limitations. It is not the bottomless bag Hermoine uses. So after a while of stuffing everything down the poor box can't hold anymore and it explodes into yelling, crying feelings at whoever is nearest the volcano. I've tried to be better. But I am a natural secret keeper. No can guard my dreams and hopes so well as I.
So back to the situation. Bring them to my married home, Leave them for anyone to read, Dump them in the trash.
Keep, Share, Throw Away.
I did the only reasonable thing. I threw them away.
Inside a box. Inside a trash bag. Inside the outside trash.
Because someone might try to find them. Yes I've seen a specialist.

But now... surprise surprise guess who was right?
Mom.

I wish I had them and I can never get them back. Oh well. Lesson learned. All the angsty-ooey-gooey drama probably wouldn't even be palatable now.

Why my blog has been neglected like an unwanted step-cat.

Why my blog has been neglected like an unwanted step-cat. a.k.a. Trouble Cat

So my precious blog, Sunbursts or Marble Halls, has been left alone and unloved. Not on purpose or rather not because I don't think it is lovely but because I have been a "light-avoiding invalid" off and on for the last couple months. Let me elaborate.

I have always been a headache/migraine sufferer but in April they increased from once a month to every day. Not at all pleasant.
There is a level system I have created that I might accurately measure the severity of these attacks. (side note: for an awesome blog post about this, and all around stinkin hilarious blog check this out Hyperbole and a Half. )

So here is my pain scale system
Level 0: What?! There is a level 0. There are times when I could have no headache at all? You lie! Wait I remember it one time, I spent my time cleaning the house, What a waste of a level 0 day!

Level 1: Hmm I don't feel quite right. I know if I were to jump up and down or try Downward Facing Dog i would probably get worse but I am so high functioning right now; I want to do these things! I want to conquer the world and read books.

Level 2: My eyes are starting to get this stingy thing were it feels like someone is poking behind my eye and probably laughing at me. I am still reading books but the pokiness is getting irritating!

Level 3: I am starting to get a little testy, The likelihood of my turning into a monster if I stay up past 9:02 is strong. Matt begins to usher me to bed alone, knowing if he reads with the light on I will suddenly wake up from my sleep and try to eat him. But I am still feel ok in my waking hours.

Level 4: The pokiness in the back of the eye is starting to spread. I can feels its painful tendrils as it latches to important parts of my brain. (Not the dumb part like sense of smell but the bits that control balance, cheerfulness, and tolerance of lights) Slowly all the lights in the house will start to get turned down or off. Bright things seer though to my soul when the tendrils start attacking my skull. This is one of Matt's least favorite levels because he comes home to all the lights off and when he turns them on I hiss like a deep-sea fish that has evolved to be eyeless because it lives at the bottom of the ocean.

Level 5: If I am smart I will start administering some sort of pain-reliver at this juncture. Key words "If I am smart" Because sometimes I want to be all natural and not destroy my kidney and liver functions. I know I can be so lame sometimes. I am all like" I am an Aes Sedai" (like a witch from Harry Potter but awesomer and way more dorky) Who is this headache to control me?! Haha Famous last words.

Level 6: My stubbornness is leaking out my temples making them pound like a marching band. I always find it disconcerting when I can take my pulse from my pounding temples without touching them. At this junction standing upright starts to take an extreme effort and in response my body starts to shut down "unnecessary" functions like talking and thinking.

Level 7: My head is staring to really hurt but seeing as it might be in the middle of the day I can't just go to sleep so I grab some Bengay and spread it on my temples. It is so cold and numbing I could marry it. Then I put on some headphone and listen to something with my eyemask on. Examples 1. Jane Eyre Chapter 27 See my blog post Librivox: Heaven's gift to man 2. New Moon 3. You've got mail 4. Miranda Lambert

Level 8:Things are starting to go down hill really fast now. I am now starting to get nauseous from my untamed affliction. Laying in the fetal position while rocking back and forth seems like a genius idea since I can no longer stand or open my eyes. It's the little things.

Level 9: I am probably close to crying now. I have taken my maximum amount of pills and now I am just waiting for it all to end one way or another. Matt is getting that worried look in his eyes like I might kill him on accident or explode into a pile of migraine juice.

Level 10: I am 100% incapacitated. I tell Matt if I'm not unconscious, dead, or better in 30 mins we are going to the hospital and they are going to pump me with so much drugs I'll start hallucinating that I have finally gotten my own My Little Pony: C.C. Cloppity Cupcake. You'd love her.

Level 11 & up: I am dead.


So as you can see blogging is not something that is feasible in Levels 4 and up. Also cleaning teeth is not very feasible. But today is a good day. Not really. Today was a royally sucky day but I did stop an Level 9 in it's track with my Holy Grail Codeine pill. So here we are.

P.S. I even undated my recently read books section. Yeah me
You're prayers are appreciate. I am seeing a neurologist and I don't have a brain tumor. Win Win.