Yet Another Reason

Old Life Motto: Don’t Go In The Water.

New Life Motto: Don’t Sleepwalk In Homes That Feature Sharks As Wall Art


British Teen Suffers Painful Shark Attack in His Bedroom

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

One unlucky British teen suffered a painful shark attack without ever going near the water. In fact, he was bitten in the face by one of the sharp-fanged animals in his own bedroom, Metro.co.uk reported.

The “attack” happened at 14-year-old Sam Hawthorne’s home in Dudley, England.

Hawthorne was sleepwalking when the teeth of a dead souvenir shark from a family vacation, that hangs on the wall of his nautical-themed bedroom, became embedded in his face.

The teeth left blood pouring from the teen’s face, his mother, Susan, told Metro.co.uk.

“It was like something out of a horror film,” she said. “The shark must have been embedded in Sam's cheek for about 15 minutes and he was in a lot of pain.”

In the end, Hawthorne came away with only a small scar. “It was the most frightening experience of my life,” he told Metro.co.uk.



Ya'll, seriously. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.

Blank

Today was full of tears. And sadness. Not all of it was personal Jo sadness, but sadness nonetheless. At the end of the day we got news that a friend lost his daughter in an accident. Words don't really seem to suffice. I can't seem to think of anything else to say.

The Apocolypse Can't Be Far Behind

I've joined Twitter. Please don't ask me what it is because I don't really know much more than that it's a way to bore you even further with my inane drivel. Now on your cell!

My first Twitter is about nachos, natch. Foreshadowing! Beware!

P.S. Are you Twittering? Better yet, is Twittering a word? Sounds like something my HR department would classify as sexual harrassment. Inappropriate or not, if you're doing it let me know so we can...do whatever it is. Together. Like friends, or something.

If At First You Don't Succeed

So it's nearly June and we're all wondering if things are going to get better. If the Great Shift of 2008 is ever going to happen. If grey skies are gonna clear up, or something. I can say, a new Lost episode certainly helps matters. Although now I'm all HOW IS HE GOING TO MOVE THE ISLAND every other minute.

Oh yeah, and three more people are pregnant. This should not come as a surprise. It's been raining babies since December 2006. Since then I've had seventeen (or is it eighteen? nineteen?) babies come into my life. And I'm only counting friends, not all the babies I know about. My fridge looks like the bulletin board at my gynecologist's office - here a baby, there a baby, everywhere a FREAKING BABY. But I do love them, the babies. Each one of them is special to me and precious and I would never wish them to be anything different than exactly what they are...or where...or when, specifically. I'm not (exactly) jealous of my friends and their babies. Not harboring resentment towards my nieces. Have nothing but total love for each gurgle and new tooth. Love to see them. Love to hold them. Love to babysit. Love to get new photos for my fridge/wall of babies.

But it's hard.

Everyone I know (yes, EVERYONE) seems to be getting on with it. Starting families. Having their second or third or fourth baby. Meanwhile I'm here hanging out with Madam Vaginismus and her violent mood swings. She's mean, that one. You never know what she wants, never can seem to appease her. One day you think you've got her figured out, think you can finally be friends. Then suddenly she flies into a rage worthy of an Oscar nomination. But you're not applauding.

And it's becoming harder not to talk about it. I've reached an age and a point in my marriage where casual friends and co-workers are starting to ask the inevitable. So when are you guys going to have kids? Are you trying?

I hate that phrase..."trying". The polite way to ask if you're having sex ten days after your period. What do you want from me, a schedule? A flow chart of my flow chart and if I'm ovulating and how often my husband and I...try? There's no other moment in life when people so freely ask about your most personal. When did it become ok to ask this? To assume that trying is easy? And for some of my friends it is that easy. Their husbands give them "the look" and suddenly they see two pink lines instead of one. They say "we didn't even try!" and giggle as if we're all part of the inside joke.

If only.

Moral of the Story

I just had an email conversation with Kelley that ended with me saying this:

"It's never ok to eat fish at 10am no matter WHAT the cleaning crew did in your office last night."

Folks, the rest of the week is going to have a tough time coming up with something better than that. Wednesday wins.

What Is This, the Bachelor?

In the spirit of giving, Ryan and I decided to christen our new grill tonight. Nevermind the fact that we got it for Christmas and haven't used it yet. Or the fact the neither of us have ever technically used a grill before. How hard can it be? You put some meat on and flip it a few times. It's not often Ryan and I get to spend the evening together what with him working nights and me days so we were both pretty excited about the whole Grill Out Extravaganza.

Except.

Remember last summer when I told you about my neighbors? The ones with the above ground pool? The ones with the backyard that connects to Illingworth Manor? The ones who were DOING IT (yes, it) in the pool while I was trying to walk Minnie Dog like a normal person?

They recently upgraded.

To a hot tub.

That they were in.

Tonight.

During the Grill Out Extravaganza.

Here's the thing. I don't find it particularly appetizing to see Neighbor Al with his back hair blowing in the evening breeze. Not even a citronella candle can cover up that mess.

If you would like to donate to the Illingworth Manor Privacy Fence, we accept.


P.S. In the spirit of fairness (cause today we're all about the spirit and being in it) I should tell you that Ryan just pointed out that the neighbors are probably right this second thinking "OH SURE! The FIRST NIGHT we get our sexy new hot tub THEY decide to suddenly USE THEIR GRILL and HANG OUT OUTSIDE even though they haven't used their porch in the ENTIRE THREE YEARS they have lived here. THAT'S IT! WE ARE GETTING A PRIVACY FENCE!" The neighbors, they like to talk in all caps while soaking inappropriately.

It starts with THE because there's only one

While in the meat section of The Super Target a desperate woman ambushes me from behind and whispers one inch from my ear "Have you EVER bought meat here?" as if the very idea of buying meat from Target will cause a third eye to sprout from her toddler's forehead and DCS to come a knockin'. I say "...Yes?"

Also, I grew these! (The roses, not the neices.)

This Time You've Gone Too Far

2008,

So it's May now and we're almost half-way through our tumultuous relationship. Is it a relationship? It feels more like being in front of a firing squad of sloppy drunks - lots of bullets flying around with most of them hitting me right where it hurts. I thought that by now you would be out of ammunition. Over it. Done with the whole Worst Year Ever campaign. But, no. Since I last wrote to you I've had a friend lose her father, a friend's boyfriend lose his mother in a tragic car accident, friends and family whose divorce proceedings have gotten ugly - real ugly. Several....(sigh).....

Look. I'm not even going to go into because you already know. It's been bad.

Oh sure, there have been some happy moments. Some laughs. I've even thought about talking about some of those rare happy moments here on the ole' blog but right as I'm about to hit "publish" you go and screw everything up. What is your deal?

And sure, I'm trying to rise above it. Trying to ignore you and your evil ways. Trying to focus on the positive and all that crap. Trying to muddle through. But this time, you've gone and done something I cannot forgive. Something so heinous I wonder if I should even speak it into existence. Something so harsh, so hurtful, so DEVASTATING that I'm not even sure I can continue this relationship. You have been very, very bad.

Don't shrug your shoulders at me. I've got you this time. There's no other explanation for this atrocity other than your downright lack of common decency.

LAST NIGHT DURING WHAT I'M SURE WAS AN AMAZING LOST EPISODE YOU SEVERED MY CABLE CONNECTION.

How could you stoop so low? You almost made Ryan cry for Locke's sake.

It's inexcusable.
Reprehensible.

I officially, without question, hate your guts.

Regards,
Jo