Holy crap, ya'll. Tomorrow I'm gonna be 32! I'm excited. I don't have a single "thing" planned besides a normal Monday but something about that is making me really happy this year. I just sort of feel like all I've got to do is just be and it feels really good.
The past 10 years have been.... they've been a lifetime, really. Sitting here today it seems like everything prior to 2001 is ancient history. In an effort to commemorate, I thought I'd write my 22-year-old self a letter*.
---
Dear 2001 Sarah,
Welcome to Texas! You've already been here for two months, and it got off to a bad start. Close friends suffered a major loss, you and your husband aren't acclimating well to your new jobs, and you're getting depressed. You've been married for 7 months now. It's not working for either one of you, and that stinks. You and him both feel like you're missing some sort of clue that is supposed to make this work, but if you want my honest opinion, I think you were both young, romantic, and dumb. He's a great guy, and you're a great girl. And here's some news... before too long, both of you are going to realize that there's not enough dedication in the world to fix it. You're just ill suited. You're going to call it quits and you're going to have a little bit of hurt and some drama, but you two will emerge as friends... and his next wife is going to be absolutely amazing and he's going to make it work because he got his training wheel time in with you. So don't feel like a total failure... just don't be so shortsighted next time. Not that you'll listen.
Shortly after your marriage ends, your mother is gong to get very ill, and she's going to pass away. This is going to be a dark and miserable time, and you're going to have to set aside your own mourning to be there for your father, and it is going to be so very hard. You'll have the support of some friends that want to be near but can't, not as much as they'd like. You won't be alone but often you'll feel that way. A long-distance love affair will keep you going and give you some hope but ultimately, you're not going to be good at long distance. There's going to be more feeling like failure and that's a bad thing, because in 10 years he probably won't even really still be holding that against you, and you won't be holding it against yourself, either. Unfortunately, you're going to drink too much and smoke too much and you really should remember to rest and try to do some healing. You won't- but you should.
A year or so later, you're going to meet a man at a club one night who seems so magical and charismatic and brilliant that you won't be able to believe your luck. You're going to have to have surgery and he's going to take care of you and when you come out of your morphine induced haze a few weeks later, you're not going to bother telling him to go home. This is going to end up sucking like a chest wound but I wouldn't undo it if I could, at least, not in it's entirety. It is obviously a lesson you need to learn, but I would at least lock up your credit cards and tell a couple of your friends to keep a closer eye on you so that maybe it could end a few months earlier before it all got as bad as it did. You're going to get hurt badly. You're going to end up broke and with a lot of debt. You're going to end that chapter as a very sad, very insecure person, and you will feel like you've completely failed at life. You're going to feel like Texas has completely and irreversibly broken you... and then you're going to leave Texas for Louisiana with nothing but "healing" on your mind.
As the years go by, you will learn to value the people that are important to you as the most cherished things you have in your life. You are going to buy a home out in the woods where all of the ones dear to your heart can feel "at home" and you are going to take great joy in gathering them near. You're going to heal, largely because of their amazing, dysfunctional, and perfect influence on you. You're going to be built up better than you ever were before, and you're going to learn to trust in your ability to make decisions that aren't always bad for you. You'll fall in love, again, and you'll fall out, but you'll take out of that one of the best friends you've ever had and a confidence that you can redefine relationships without losing them altogether, when it's right to do so. You are going to lose people that you love very much, and you're going to mourn their losses with your family and friends, and you're going to shore one another up with love and a lot of bourbon. You are going to have more blessings than you know what to do with and you will always find somebody who wants to spend their time with you because you're actually a fun person to be with. You will have helped to build an amazing family that defies all practical definitions, but is perfect in it's impracticality. You're still going to suck at "Capital R" Relationships but you're not going to mind so much, because you're so damned charmed in all the other parts of your life, so it's going to be ok. You will only be alone when you want to be and you'll rarely ever be lonely.
You're going to lose some weight, get active, and you're going to end up actually looking forward to the joy that your next 10 years will bring, rather than just wishing they would get over with. And then you're going to buy a pair of boxing gloves and then some roller skates and then a beautiful life is only going to get more enchanted.
I don't want to ruin all the good parts, of course, so I'll close this out with this: You'll realize one day, shortly before your 32nd birthday that you haven't been depressed in half a decade or more, not like you used to be. You'll figure out that that excitement you feel almost every night when you go to bed is akin to that of a child on Christmas Eve, because you just can't wait to see what the next day will bring... and you're going to get to have that every day, because you're just really damn happy.
How badass is that?
Much Love,
31.999 year old You.
*Nope. Not an original idea. I stole it from a book.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Don't worry, be happy.
So, Raymond turned 30 and cut off all his gorgeous hair to donate. I'm going to be turning 32 in a few days, and I'm going to be celebrating by spending the entire weekend skating. A 5+ mile parade Saturday, a joint practice Sunday, an open skate Sunday night (maybe), and a regular practice Monday- when the hell did I get all athleticized, anyway? The mind boggles.
I couldn't be happier about that, by the way. I'm glad that I figured out how to be selfish and put a physical activity that I love, and the company that comes with it, on one of the front burners.
Beyond that whole "holy shit I'm a skater" thing, my most recent ponderings have been centering a lot around how worrying about situations doesn't really do anything to change the situations. I know- I'm a slow learner.
I worry about what somebody thinks of me, what their opinion is. If all I'm doing is worrying, I'm not doing anything positive to change their perceptions. Their perceptions may not even be negative- but I don't know. I just know that I don't want them to be negative. Fixating doesn't fix it.
I worry about whether an explanation offered can be taken at face value, or if it is a convenient lie made up to save face. Worrying doesn't really give me any insight. Only my intuition can, and even if it might be dumb I'm usually going to lean towards giving the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise... but once I've offered that, I do need to get better at putting it out of my head. If I'm not going to do that then maybe I'm not listening to myself in the first place, right? Right.
--
An acquaintance I've only met a few times called me "weird" in passing recently, and it really gnawed at me. That judgment was made based solely on Facebook pictures, and it stung- but why? Let's face it, I have some hobbies that are effin' weird, especially if I'm judged on the basis of social media. I skate derby. I play dress-up and go to SCA events. I've gone out in public dressed as a garden gnome for nothing that counts as a really good reason... and I'm fine with all that. I have no problem calling myself weird, or strange, or oddball, but I definitely don't like the judgment being stated when somebody else does it- at least, when somebody else who isn't weird, too. And that's ok- it's a quirk I have. I'm gonna just own it and not worry about it.
--
My birthday gift to myself- getting an old, faded, kinda ugly tattoo with a lot of symbolism to me re-touched. I absolutely love it- and no, I've not taken a picture of it yet, but I might when it is healed. I feel much better, though, knowing that I've taken a few hours and a little money to invest in myself... so much better, in fact, that I plan on going back in a few weeks to get the other one that needs some attention worked on.
My other birthday gift to myself- making a conscious decision to worry much less.
I couldn't be happier about that, by the way. I'm glad that I figured out how to be selfish and put a physical activity that I love, and the company that comes with it, on one of the front burners.
Beyond that whole "holy shit I'm a skater" thing, my most recent ponderings have been centering a lot around how worrying about situations doesn't really do anything to change the situations. I know- I'm a slow learner.
I worry about what somebody thinks of me, what their opinion is. If all I'm doing is worrying, I'm not doing anything positive to change their perceptions. Their perceptions may not even be negative- but I don't know. I just know that I don't want them to be negative. Fixating doesn't fix it.
I worry about whether an explanation offered can be taken at face value, or if it is a convenient lie made up to save face. Worrying doesn't really give me any insight. Only my intuition can, and even if it might be dumb I'm usually going to lean towards giving the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise... but once I've offered that, I do need to get better at putting it out of my head. If I'm not going to do that then maybe I'm not listening to myself in the first place, right? Right.
--
An acquaintance I've only met a few times called me "weird" in passing recently, and it really gnawed at me. That judgment was made based solely on Facebook pictures, and it stung- but why? Let's face it, I have some hobbies that are effin' weird, especially if I'm judged on the basis of social media. I skate derby. I play dress-up and go to SCA events. I've gone out in public dressed as a garden gnome for nothing that counts as a really good reason... and I'm fine with all that. I have no problem calling myself weird, or strange, or oddball, but I definitely don't like the judgment being stated when somebody else does it- at least, when somebody else who isn't weird, too. And that's ok- it's a quirk I have. I'm gonna just own it and not worry about it.
--
My birthday gift to myself- getting an old, faded, kinda ugly tattoo with a lot of symbolism to me re-touched. I absolutely love it- and no, I've not taken a picture of it yet, but I might when it is healed. I feel much better, though, knowing that I've taken a few hours and a little money to invest in myself... so much better, in fact, that I plan on going back in a few weeks to get the other one that needs some attention worked on.
My other birthday gift to myself- making a conscious decision to worry much less.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Just another night in the country...
Fylgir doesn't always sleep in her crate at night. Some nights, if she's being good, the crate door stays open and she can roam around if she likes. She still ends up spending most of the night in her own spot but she likes to patrol. Last night was one of those nights... and at about 1:15, she went OMGNUTS!!!!111!! She's not really a barker, so I got up to check it out. I think there may have been raccoons frolicking in the yard for there definitely were not any intruders. No big deal... the barking happened again at 1:20. And at 1:23. And at 1:28- and the puppy went to her crate for the night at that point.
At 1:33, just as I was getting ready to fall back to sleep, my phone dinged with a Facebook Message indicator. A random person with whom I share no mutual friends had sent me a "Hi, How are you?" message.
Messages from strangers aren't an odd thing and they don't bother me a bit. Messages from strangers while my dog is going BatShitCrazy when those strangers happen to share the same name as a major Horror Movie Bad Guy make me have special dreams. There's a reason why I've never seen Saw. Or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Or anything else that involves dead cheerleaders and/or summer campers. I have a creative imagination. The sole Nightmare on Elm Street that I've seen gave me night terrors and The Others was just traumatic.
Anyhow- so I read the message and click on the profile and the picture, at least on my phone screen, was really tiny and fuzzy. Tiny and fuzzy and made me immediately convinced that there was a Horror Movie Murderer outside of my house Facebooking me before he killed me and I'd just locked my alarm system in a crate and she NEVER barks so if she's barking then there MUST be a psycho on the loose and did I lock the door? I never lock the door... maybe I should lock the door but what if he's already in the house? I think I should just lay here and try to look like a pile of blankets, I think.
So I did that, just lay there, and tried to convince my mind that it wasn't THAT Michael Myers. It was MIKE Myers whose roles in Wayne's World and So I Married an Axe Murderer led to my first celebrity crush and I'm still pretty sure I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating bacon. So, ok, that's who it was. He's tracked me down, wants to chat me up, let's just think on that as we try to fall asleep. That's better.
It worked- and then I had dreams all night long of Austin Powers and Shrek getting stalked by creepy guys in hockey masks (and yes, I know that's Jason but work with me here), which sucked massively and resulted in me hitting 'snooze' for an extra 30 minutes, very nearly being back to work, and harboring serious fantasies about replying to my random message with a tutorial in how to NOT interact with strangers when you have a Hollywood Horror name, but that'd probably be rude.
--
I haven't made a single thing all week (except for weird nightmares) but I have been having a great time, skating, and gearing up for a great weekend that probably will involve some art... or the cleaning of some firearms, which almost counts if you look at it the right way.
--
Sabine got me this diary for Valentine's Day. I have found in the week that I've had it that jotting down a sentence or so right before bed isn't a hardship at all and I'm really hoping I can stick with it. You should get one, too, and then in 5 years we can all have a diary reading party. It'll be off the chain! er... hook? Chain. Crap. What is it the kids are saying these days again?
--
It's going to be a triple latte sort of day.
At 1:33, just as I was getting ready to fall back to sleep, my phone dinged with a Facebook Message indicator. A random person with whom I share no mutual friends had sent me a "Hi, How are you?" message.
Messages from strangers aren't an odd thing and they don't bother me a bit. Messages from strangers while my dog is going BatShitCrazy when those strangers happen to share the same name as a major Horror Movie Bad Guy make me have special dreams. There's a reason why I've never seen Saw. Or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Or anything else that involves dead cheerleaders and/or summer campers. I have a creative imagination. The sole Nightmare on Elm Street that I've seen gave me night terrors and The Others was just traumatic.
 |
| Not sexy. |
 | ||
| Is that a...goat? |
So I did that, just lay there, and tried to convince my mind that it wasn't THAT Michael Myers. It was MIKE Myers whose roles in Wayne's World and So I Married an Axe Murderer led to my first celebrity crush and I'm still pretty sure I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating bacon. So, ok, that's who it was. He's tracked me down, wants to chat me up, let's just think on that as we try to fall asleep. That's better.
It worked- and then I had dreams all night long of Austin Powers and Shrek getting stalked by creepy guys in hockey masks (and yes, I know that's Jason but work with me here), which sucked massively and resulted in me hitting 'snooze' for an extra 30 minutes, very nearly being back to work, and harboring serious fantasies about replying to my random message with a tutorial in how to NOT interact with strangers when you have a Hollywood Horror name, but that'd probably be rude.
--
I haven't made a single thing all week (except for weird nightmares) but I have been having a great time, skating, and gearing up for a great weekend that probably will involve some art... or the cleaning of some firearms, which almost counts if you look at it the right way.
--
Sabine got me this diary for Valentine's Day. I have found in the week that I've had it that jotting down a sentence or so right before bed isn't a hardship at all and I'm really hoping I can stick with it. You should get one, too, and then in 5 years we can all have a diary reading party. It'll be off the chain! er... hook? Chain. Crap. What is it the kids are saying these days again?
--
It's going to be a triple latte sort of day.
Monday, February 14, 2011
A Very Awesome Monday.
Those familiar with my morning routine know that when I wake up I'm mean, prone to tears, and completely beyond the ability of grasping logic. This is remedied only by the acquisition of caffeine and a shower... and then results may still vary. Mondays are harder than other days simply by virtue of it being Monday, and this Monday was worst than most by virtue of a great big NPO order that was to hold until my appointment at the hospital to have a 3-D ultrasound done. No caffeine. No breakfast (I do love me some food, you know). I decided that brushing my teeth would be just fine and I still stand by that decision because no medical professional deserves morning breath, technicality of orders be damned. I did make it to the hospital and the right place but with a raging morning headache. So- the first bit of the morning really sucked but THEN---
Holy crap. 3-D ultrasound is SO COOL! I didn't get any copies of the pictures but even though I'm the kind of person who gets squeamish easily I was really enthralled with the whole experience. I was pretty psyched to get to see all my insides and even though the tech was doing the whole "I'm not your doctor so I'm not going to tell you anything" she would at least tell me what we were looking at as far as organs went.
And THEN--- I had to go report to my general physician's office upstairs and I got on his scale and now my official medical record says I've lost 100.2 lbs. We're not going to take into account that I was STARVING. It counts. Nyah.
And THEN-- my GP looked at the images from the ultrasounds and it appears that my kidneys have gotten smaller, which is really not normal but really very good. This was kind of expected a few weeks ago but is now confirmed- and in 3D!
And THEN-- I got a spinach muffin thingy from Subway and a glorious cup of coffee.
And THEN it registered that I appear to have something that resembles a date tomorrow night... a date with a person whose first impression of me featured roller skates and a not-poodle skirt and what we're going to generously call a bit of a buzz. I am trying to forget about the fact that I'm really bad at the whole "dating" thing and just look forward to having a nice time with a new friend... and if I keep saying that over and over maybe I won't puke.
And THEN my cat gave me a big fake diamond for Valentine's Day, because my cat truly does love me best. Actually, ok, he gave me the big fake diamond at about 5:45 this morning but it took all that other stuff for me to get to where I could appreciate it.
Happy Valentine's Day, and if you'd rather not, then Happy Monday. Whatever. Just be happy.
Holy crap. 3-D ultrasound is SO COOL! I didn't get any copies of the pictures but even though I'm the kind of person who gets squeamish easily I was really enthralled with the whole experience. I was pretty psyched to get to see all my insides and even though the tech was doing the whole "I'm not your doctor so I'm not going to tell you anything" she would at least tell me what we were looking at as far as organs went.
And THEN--- I had to go report to my general physician's office upstairs and I got on his scale and now my official medical record says I've lost 100.2 lbs. We're not going to take into account that I was STARVING. It counts. Nyah.
And THEN-- my GP looked at the images from the ultrasounds and it appears that my kidneys have gotten smaller, which is really not normal but really very good. This was kind of expected a few weeks ago but is now confirmed- and in 3D!
And THEN-- I got a spinach muffin thingy from Subway and a glorious cup of coffee.
And THEN it registered that I appear to have something that resembles a date tomorrow night... a date with a person whose first impression of me featured roller skates and a not-poodle skirt and what we're going to generously call a bit of a buzz. I am trying to forget about the fact that I'm really bad at the whole "dating" thing and just look forward to having a nice time with a new friend... and if I keep saying that over and over maybe I won't puke.
And THEN my cat gave me a big fake diamond for Valentine's Day, because my cat truly does love me best. Actually, ok, he gave me the big fake diamond at about 5:45 this morning but it took all that other stuff for me to get to where I could appreciate it.
 | |||||
| Because why should Valentine's Day be any different than every other day that I'm Facebook-stalking you? |
Happy Valentine's Day, and if you'd rather not, then Happy Monday. Whatever. Just be happy.
Friday, February 11, 2011
A week gone, and so much to show for it!
Nobody's really going to care what I have to say about the Kid Rock concert Tuesday night. It was plenty fun but there were no unicorns.
So - rah rah rah, Batwidaba, YAY Beavis and Butthead! Hey, do you smell pot? Was that just a pole dance to the "Dukes of Hazzard" theme? No, really, I seriously smell pot. Damn, that's a righteous mullet. And it just passed a joint. I knew it! That's it in a nutshell.
I have been engaging in the "make something every day" challenge thing... kinda. I've made a skirt. I tried to make a petticoat, too, but that was a fail. I will take pictures this weekend and post them, but I've been hesitant to do so already since I'm not going to "do" hair and makeup for cellphone pictures in my bathroom, and they're kind of required to get the proper effect across.
I made some posters for the upcoming Mardi Gras parade. I'm somewhat proud of my ability to trace and use markers. I think I totally missed out by not going to a high school that actually had Homecoming and stuff like that. I'll never master bubble letters but I did ripoff the Facebook Thumb logo pretty nicely.
In the past few days I've designed a flier for a poster contest, started drafting articles of incorporation for the Knockers, started working on the details for us to skate in San Fermin in Nueva Orleans, performed surgery on a few pairs of skates, made a complete ass of myself at work over a mis-hearing (I thought she said her boyfriend gave her "a bar of soap with razorblades" not "a bar of soap AND razor blades"), soothed some egos, and contemplated ways to affix four-leaf clovers to my kneepads without damaging any floors.
So- I've been doin' stuff. And as soon as the stuff I've been doing actually becomes relevant, I'll post some pictures... if anybody actually takes them. I hear rumor that I own a camera but I don't know where it is.
My weekend plans got derailed. Dad has the flu and a few other life situations resulted in me not heading for Monroe tonight, but that also means that I don't have to race back tomorrow for Kamikaze Karaoke, so it'll be fine. Instead I'm going to make valentines for my girls and maybe some new curtains for my bedroom, spend a little time primping for the show, and I'm still going to have an amazing weekend.
So - rah rah rah, Batwidaba, YAY Beavis and Butthead! Hey, do you smell pot? Was that just a pole dance to the "Dukes of Hazzard" theme? No, really, I seriously smell pot. Damn, that's a righteous mullet. And it just passed a joint. I knew it! That's it in a nutshell.
I have been engaging in the "make something every day" challenge thing... kinda. I've made a skirt. I tried to make a petticoat, too, but that was a fail. I will take pictures this weekend and post them, but I've been hesitant to do so already since I'm not going to "do" hair and makeup for cellphone pictures in my bathroom, and they're kind of required to get the proper effect across.
I made some posters for the upcoming Mardi Gras parade. I'm somewhat proud of my ability to trace and use markers. I think I totally missed out by not going to a high school that actually had Homecoming and stuff like that. I'll never master bubble letters but I did ripoff the Facebook Thumb logo pretty nicely.
In the past few days I've designed a flier for a poster contest, started drafting articles of incorporation for the Knockers, started working on the details for us to skate in San Fermin in Nueva Orleans, performed surgery on a few pairs of skates, made a complete ass of myself at work over a mis-hearing (I thought she said her boyfriend gave her "a bar of soap with razorblades" not "a bar of soap AND razor blades"), soothed some egos, and contemplated ways to affix four-leaf clovers to my kneepads without damaging any floors.
So- I've been doin' stuff. And as soon as the stuff I've been doing actually becomes relevant, I'll post some pictures... if anybody actually takes them. I hear rumor that I own a camera but I don't know where it is.
My weekend plans got derailed. Dad has the flu and a few other life situations resulted in me not heading for Monroe tonight, but that also means that I don't have to race back tomorrow for Kamikaze Karaoke, so it'll be fine. Instead I'm going to make valentines for my girls and maybe some new curtains for my bedroom, spend a little time primping for the show, and I'm still going to have an amazing weekend.
Monday, February 7, 2011
I'm not on my A game. Or even my C game.
Apparently I needed some rest.
I got the flu (and two ear infections) last week. I get sick all the time (usually just ear infections) but this time I spent the better part of 4 days asleep, which is pretty unheard of for me. I'm usually a "lie there and suffer audibly" kind of girl. Anyhow, I passed the hell out and for the 15.5 minutes I was awake, I was either trying to engage in crafts while high on flu medicine and with a slight case of vertigo or writing emails that should have been subtitled "THE SKY IS FALLING" while high on flu medicine and hanging onto my desk with my toes... because, you know, I could still type with vertigo as long as I hooked my toes under the underside of the desk. I wish I were making that up.
I wish I'd had the presence of mind to blog while I was sick because even if it may not have made any sense to you, I thought I was effing hilarious. I know that I tried to tell the Beekeeper that he couldn't play the video game he wanted to play and had to play Civilization instead because it made the Smurfs more complacent. I took approximately 5 baths a day. I built a pillow fort and got mad at one of the cats who refused to use the password to get in.
My fever broke last week (Thursday?), but now it's Monday and I am clearly not back to 100% or anything all that close. I'm cranky. I'm needy but not finding anybody available who wants to put up with my clinginess and dammit, I know I'd feel so much better faster if somebody would just give me all of their undivided attention for a day or 4. My relationship with solid food is still on shaky ground and seems to only be stable when I'm ingesting things into which full cream, whole-fat cheese, or real butter have been included. I'm dejected and grouchy and I'm expecting that I'm going to have to deal with people throwing some attitude around in a few hours and I'm not looking forward to it. I really very much want to force myself back into a happy mindset but honestly can't be bothered to do so.
The silver linings to the past week that are just going to get glossed over because I can't be assed to rewind that much:
I got the flu (and two ear infections) last week. I get sick all the time (usually just ear infections) but this time I spent the better part of 4 days asleep, which is pretty unheard of for me. I'm usually a "lie there and suffer audibly" kind of girl. Anyhow, I passed the hell out and for the 15.5 minutes I was awake, I was either trying to engage in crafts while high on flu medicine and with a slight case of vertigo or writing emails that should have been subtitled "THE SKY IS FALLING" while high on flu medicine and hanging onto my desk with my toes... because, you know, I could still type with vertigo as long as I hooked my toes under the underside of the desk. I wish I were making that up.
I wish I'd had the presence of mind to blog while I was sick because even if it may not have made any sense to you, I thought I was effing hilarious. I know that I tried to tell the Beekeeper that he couldn't play the video game he wanted to play and had to play Civilization instead because it made the Smurfs more complacent. I took approximately 5 baths a day. I built a pillow fort and got mad at one of the cats who refused to use the password to get in.
My fever broke last week (Thursday?), but now it's Monday and I am clearly not back to 100% or anything all that close. I'm cranky. I'm needy but not finding anybody available who wants to put up with my clinginess and dammit, I know I'd feel so much better faster if somebody would just give me all of their undivided attention for a day or 4. My relationship with solid food is still on shaky ground and seems to only be stable when I'm ingesting things into which full cream, whole-fat cheese, or real butter have been included. I'm dejected and grouchy and I'm expecting that I'm going to have to deal with people throwing some attitude around in a few hours and I'm not looking forward to it. I really very much want to force myself back into a happy mindset but honestly can't be bothered to do so.
The silver linings to the past week that are just going to get glossed over because I can't be assed to rewind that much:
- I finished the rottweiler skirt (debuting Saturday night)
- I'm officially a rostered skater for March 12
- My kidneys are very healthy, smaller than they were before, and my new nephrologist is smart, funny, adorable, and not a jackass.
- My general physician's scale is logging my total weight loss to date as being 98 pounds.
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