Sound medical advice...from 3 year olds.

Girl 1: What happened? What happened to your knee?

Girl 2: KNEE!

Boy: *worried face*

Me: I got a boo-boo on my knee.

Girl 1 (pointing at knee brace): What's that?

Girl 2: THAT?

Boy: *worried face*

Me: I wear that and it helps my knee feel better.

Girl 1: How did you hurt your knee?

Girl 2: HOW?

Boy: *curious face*

Me: I fell down. 

Girl 1: Did you fall on your dog?

Girl 2: Were you wearing a long dress?

Boy: You fell?

Me: I did, I just fell over my own feet. 

(All three look at me like, "WAIT, THAT CAN HAPPEN?")

Me: It was an accident.

Girl 2: CRAYONS! 

*Girls run off. Boy stays and starts petting my knee.*

Boy: I could get you a band-aid. 

Me: *dead*

Boy: I could kiss your knee and get a band-aid and put medicine on it and it would feel better.

LIKE OMG, EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO DIE FROM CUTENESS. 

This is why the human race won't go extinct, because sometimes kids are just too freaking adorable and sweet to handle. 

...humbug?

I am bummed. 

(Which, for my UK readers, means I am sad, not that I was anally invaded, thankyouverymuch.)

Here's the thing. I want to whine a bit, because this is my blog. But I always feel so guilty whining, especially around the holidays, because I have so much for which to be grateful. And while I'm initially inclined to sit around and feel really sorry for myself (because poor me), there are people who have it so much worse and are so much more uplifting and nice and happy. Basically, they have a better attitude than I do. 

So. I am going to whine. A little bit. But I also want everyone to realize that I know how much worse it could be. And I am really grateful, so I will follow up my whining with a "thankful list." Is that okay?

I am bummed out because I started this Christmas season actually a little bit excited about the whole thing. Christmas is never my favorite time of year, but it seemed like everything was going pretty well. My aunt is in town to help out with my grandma, my parents' health is good, Michael is doing well...all seemed like it might shape up to be a normal Christmas (disasters of Christmasses past: emergency trip to NC on Christmas day to retrieve my ailing grandmother and bring her here to live, my dad being temporarily blinded by retinal detachment surgery, me having my wisdom teeth out, and the kicker, my grandpa passing on the 23rd). 

Then I wrecked my knee. 

Which wasn't really all that bad. I mean, it sucks, and it still hurts. But I didn't need to have surgery, so that's a good thing.

What really sucks about it is how long its taking to heal. Granted, I am two weeks out of my injury. They said it'll be about 8. I've got a LONG way to go still. But I am SO SICK of just lying around. Or going one place and being too tired out to continue running my errands and finishing my Christmas shopping. I don't like being physically frustrated when mentally, I'm ready to GO. 

This, of course, being the first year in ages that I haven't finished my Christmas shopping by Thanksgiving, I ended up having to order the remaining gifts on my list online. Which is a beautiful thing. Except for when they ship you the wrong item and in order to get the correct item in time for Christmas, you have to go to the physical store anyway, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid doing in the first place. 

This has happened. Twice. I still haven't made my final return and frankly, I'm not going to. Everyone can just deal with getting the rest of their presents after New Year's. 

THEN, I got sick. So now, I am sick, coughing, sniffling, not-sleeping, and achy. And my leg is still bad. My physical therapist ripped me a new one yesterday, so I'm sorer now than I've been in a long time. THANKS, GUYS. 

So even if I could muster up the energy (and swallow enough DayQuil) to go out and finish my things, my leg's too sore. And I'm hacking up a lung. 

I went back to work for like, 2 days and it was glorious. But apparently, two days is more than my ridiculously puny system can handle, so now I'm back to invalid status. 

*sigh*

I am very patient with others. It's a good trait. But I am ruthless with myself. I am angry with myself for getting hurt in the first place. I'm mad that the injury so lowered my immune system that I got sick on top of it. I'm mad that I went into shock and wasn't braver, and as a result I'm not producing enough serotonin and I feel depressed when I should be making jokes about the irony of the situation. I'm mad that I didn't get my Christmas shopping done sooner. I'm mad I don't make more money (which would have facilitated getting shopping done sooner). I'm mad that there's still time to make sure everything is perfect, and instead, I'm in bed, looking like hell, again. I'm mad I'll miss my family's Christmas dinner tomorrow because I had a blast seeing everyone on Thanksgiving. I'm mad I had to cancel meeting up with Bethany to exchange gifts. I'm mad I haven't seen The Hobbit yet and won't until probably after New Year's.

I'm just a little miffed. 

So, that's my whiny time. I'm just bummed because I tend to be a perfectionist. I want everyone to be healthy and happy on Christmas, with the perfect presents wrapped perfectly (I skimped on wrapping this year, too, because getting down on the floor to wrap is one thing. Getting up is an epic of Beowulf proprotion.). I feel like I'm letting down my friends and family by not getting to see them, like somehow they might think I'm making things up to get out of social things, which I'm not. 

Hopefully, this cold will pass without becoming bronchitis, and I'll feel halfway decent on Christmas. 

On to the Things For Which I Am Thankful:

-That I didn't need surgery.

-For Bixby, who literally makes me smile and/or laugh every day even if I feel crappy.

-For my parents, who are nice enough to let me live with them, assure me that Christmas will continue even if I don't do ALL THE THINGS, and are helping me and taking care of me.

-For my bed. I mean, if I'm going to be stuck somewhere on and off for a month at a time, it might as well be somewhere I love, right?

-For the extended editions of the Lord of the Rings DVD's, the special features of which I've been systematically watching while I'm down and out.

-For books, for keeping me sane.

-For the friends who've stopped by and brought cards, flowers, encouraging emails and texts. You guys mean everything to me, and I'm so grateful for your love and support and well-wishes.

-For my job. Here's how you know your boss is awesome: you call her from the emergency room to let her know what happened and her first question is, "Are you there alone? Do you need me to come over there?" Seriously, I was totally morphined up, but I almost cried. Secondly, they've allowed me to do some telecommuting from home, and have basically said, "make your own schedule while you're recovering." Thirdly, every single one of my co-workers got each other Christmas gifts, even if it was just little things from the Dollar Store or homemade cookies. It's just so sweet. Fourthly, when I came in earlier this week, they had literally moved my entire desk and workspace downstairs for me so I don't have to trudge up the stairs. Seriously??? My job is amazing, and I thank God every day for the people I work with and for allowing me to be there with them.

-For Christmas. Because even if it's not the perfect, soft-focus event I imagined in my mind, we're still allowed to celebrate it however we want to or can in this country. And I'm so glad I have a savior who reminds me every once in a while to be a Mary, not a Martha, and just sit at His feet and be in His presence, especially at this time of year. And it's okay to sit, and be still, and know that He is God. 

I took "shop till you drop" to a whole new level.

What happened to me yesterday is one of those things where I hope the only lasting after-effect will be a fantastic story. 

So, I don't really even know where to begin. I guess I'll go chronologically. 

I went shopping yesterday, because I had time and a gift card, and I was just looking for some cute wintry clothes. I'll just come out and say it, I was at Plato's, the one in Altamonte. So I'm in the dressing room. I had tried on a dress, a couple of shirts, and was finishing up trying on jeans. I was putting back on my own jeans when, and I have honest-to-God no idea what happened, I fell. I mean, I FELL. The floor is some kind of rubbery material, and I have a feeling I went to twist my leg to balance, and it didn't move, so I just ended up twisting my leg, and my knee absolutely gave out. I screamed. If you know me, you know I have a relatively high pain tolerance, and I hate drawing attention to myself, but this was easily the worst pain I've ever been in in my entire, short life. So I screamed, and I fell because I couldn't hold myself up. The lady in the dressing room next me goes, "Are you okay?" And the question was echoed by all the employees who had come running when they heard me. I was like, "NO!" The dressing room attendant asked if I could open the door, to which I very cleverly answered, "I'm not even dressed!"

This is the saddest part of this story, btw. I had no shirt on and my jeans were halfway pulled on. Because this happening fully dressed would not have been NEARLY embarrassing enough. 

So anyway, she's like, "I have the key, we're going to get you out." And my thoughts were all equal parts, "OMG they're going to see me with no clothes on," "OMG, my knee is bent," "OMG, this is exactly what happened to Chichi (my mom's gimp chihuahua)," and "OMG, I'm gonna faint." They did open the door, and I had purposely not looked down because I could feel my knee was all bent out of shape. All three of the girls who were there gasped when the door opened. And I said, again very cleverly, "I'm going to faint." 

Luckily, the dressing room attendant (who I later learned was the manager on duty) had EMT or paramedic training. Thank GOD she was there. Seriously, I have prayed over this girl so many times because the whole experience would have been about 50 times worse if she had not been there. She very calmly grabbed me by the shoulders, took me out of the dressing room, and laid me down flat. She's like, "Don't faint, you gotta stay with us," but she laid me out flat anyway, which was really spectacular. She got me some clothes to cover up with, which was like, the best thing ever. 

"The Winner Is" from the Little Miss Sunshine soundtrack was playing this whole time, btw, which is an odd memory to have, but from now on that's how I'll think of that song.

Anyway, Angel Girl (I don't know her name!) got me a cold cloth for my head (presumably to help with the whole not-fainting-from-pain thing), and she's like, "I'm gonna pull your jeans the rest of the way down because they're constricting the knee, but we've got stuff to cover you up." I think I just nodded. Or kept saying, "I'm sorry" like, over and over again. She got the jeans down over my busted up knee. And she was like, "Oooh, you did a number." I sneaked a glance and then thought I was going to faint again. 

I'm not posting a picture because a) my thought at that time was not "OMG SELFIE #IEFFEDUPMYKNEE!" so I have no pics, and b) it's super gross. But if you want to see what it generally resembled, click here at your own risk. 

They called 911, almost as soon as they heard me fall, which was amazing. But I was so scared. I'm pretty sure I've never been that scared in my life. Luckily Angel Girl sat next to me the whole time, and I was like, "What just happened?" She told me I had dislocated my knee pretty badly, and that an ambulance was on the way. I know nothing at all about medical things or injuries, so I'm like, "Is it broken? Is it even possible to break a knee? Do I need surgery?" And she very calmly answered me and said it was definitely dislocated, there could have been an internal fracture, and the paramedics would take me to Altamonte hospital. She asked if I was there with anyone, to which I wanted to be like, "If I was, don't you think they'd be here by now? I'm kind of making a scene." She had gotten my purse and clothes together and got me my phone. I tried calling my mom, but she was visiting my grandma and didn't have her phone on her. Luckily, my dad was at his office, which is about 10 or 15 minutes away, and I was like, "An ambulance is coming, please meet me at the hospital." The paramedics arrived just as I was finishing talking to him. What I really wanted to do was be like, "OMG COME NOW I AM SO SCARED!" but sometimes I try to be an adult. 

The paramedics come in and the one guy goes, "So, what are you doing?" And I answer, "I'm on the floor, naked, in Plato's Closet." He laughed and goes, "Well, you're not exactly naked," and they had some kind of ambulance blanket they covered me up with THANK GOD. Because having a store full of women see you in various states of undress is bad. Having 5 ripped guys you don't know see you in various states of undress (while lying on the floor with deformed appendages) is mortifying. 

They got an IV going and started me on morphine. I remember them trying to straighten out the leg, but I was like, "Guys, that's not gonna happen." So they upped my dose. Still no way they were able to straighten out my leg. Even with that much medication, I was absolutely still in pain. They finally gave me Versed, which I think knocked me out. If it didn't, I have literally no memory of what happened after that. 

I do know that they were awesome. I started going into shock and they were super nice and the one older guy held my hand and kept telling me I was doing fine and it was going to be okay, which is really what I wanted more than anything. Anyway, shout-out to Altamonte ambulance guys, you were AWESOME. 

I came to in the ambulance, and my leg had managed to go flat. The guy told me that the kneecap had been put back into place, and they were going to run x-rays at the hospital to make sure it was okay. They got me out and wheeled me into the hospital, where, HALLELUJAH! my Dad was waiting. I got a room, which was also nice, and then waited a couple of hours for them to do x-rays and everything. The whole afternoon is a little hazy after that. I remember trying to stay awake and coherent, but I felt really tired. Also, I have no idea what I may or may not have said, and that's probably a good thing because this whole story is already embarrassing enough without recollection of any drug-addled rambling that may have occurred. 

To complete my humiliation, I will only say two words: bed pan. 

Around 5, they checked me out. The x-rays came back okay, I guess. They gave me a leg brace and orders to stay on bed rest until I could get checked out by an orthopedic doctor, which won't be until Monday or Tuesday. So now I'm left with some humiliating memories, an incredibly sore knee, two people I'd like to thank and have no way to because I don't even know their names (Angel Girl and the Nice Paramedic), the threat that this may happen again (because apparently, that's common), and the promise of crutches and 6-8 weeks of physical therapy. 

I'll keep everyone updated, because I know this is an enthralling story. Ugh. The things I get myself into. 

What was actually on the menu at the Star Wars Cantina...

I just wanted to share pics of the food I made assembled for our Star Wars event at the library last Saturday! 

This was our Darth Vader pinata. The girl who won the Wii lightsaber duel (you read that right...she KICKED BUTT) got to smash Vader's head with a lightsaber. Candy was enjoyed by all. 

Yes, our ice machine does have a picture of Vanilla Ice on it. You can thank my boss for that bit of cleverness. 

This was probably my favorite. I used chocolate teddy grahams (for Ewoks), Captain Crunch cereal, Raisinettes, and coconut M&M's (they were the only green ones I could find, even though I searched high and low for mint flavored ones!).

I regret nothing.

This was just watermelon juice and Sprite. Btw, do you know how hard it is to find green juice that isn't either vegetables or Kool-Aid? HARD. 

Because we needed something to balance out all the sugar. 

See? The Oreos have a dark and a light side...like the force! Ahh??

Just animal crackers. 

Couldn't come up with a better name for this...

And finally...

...the dress! 

It was an awesome day. One of those ones where I'm like, "I can't believe I get paid to do this." It was a lot of work, and I was exhausted, but it was totally worth it. 

Now, tomorrow, I get to do our 3rd Annual Princess Tea Party, complete with 200 little girls in princess attire and a menu completely consisting of various forms of sugar. This will be interesting...

Whenever I want to feel like I'm far away....

I simultaneously open up these three tabs:

http://www.rainymood.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyU3bRy2x44

http://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=sf-LMHrslHw

And then I adjust the volume on the music to about halfway there, so the rain and fireplace are more prominent and I pretend I'm a Lord. Or Duchess, as the case may be. 

Or sometimes, I use violin music and pretend I'm actually in 221B. 

Or Madam, as the case may be. 

Turning a new page.

Ugh.

You have no idea how many times I've started typing out an "End of Blogging" post--the kind where I'm like, "this blog is going on hiatus for a while" or "I'm not writing anything for a while" or any other pathetic variation on the phrase. But then my heart breaks, because I feel like that's admitting defeat.

I feel like this blog hasn't been an honest place for me to come and write and express and create in AGES. I'm so afraid of offending people or of someone at my place of employment seeing it and finding SOMETHING over which to fire me. I guess that's just the combination of my inherently guilty conscience and learned paranoia. BUT STILL. It sucks because I want to write and say things and be funny and sarcastic without being afraid.

But I am.

So I'm going to work on being a little more honest--in my writing, with myself, with my readers (whoever's left of them...I think my drop off in readership is actually what's helping me, though), and try not to be so afraid that I'm somehow going to get fired from my library job (which is stupid, since this blog is like, 75% book reviews).

And I'll probably treat it more like Tumblr...post a picture, a song, a video, maybe a photo or two, and leave it at that. I just need to revise. And take pressure off myself to create some kind of masterful blog when really, that's not what this is about. I want it to be for me again, without the worry of pleasing, amusing, or offending my readers.

So consider this my diary into which you get some kind of look. Only on the scale of  the "inner sanctum," this diary would be on the 2nd ring:

YAY to not being guilty over blogs! YAY for new headers! YAY for change (and not of the penny and nickel variety)! YAY!

Art wars?

My mom was going through some stuff and she found this absolutely horrific piece of fan-art from a very much younger Mary. 

I had to share this piece of artistic prowess with you. 

CLEARLY, this is Jabba the Hutt's palace. I mean, OBVIOUSLY. 

Anyway. The hilarious/sad thing is that if I tried to do this now, it would probably only look marginally better than this. I haven't grown much artistically speaking. 

Things I Am Really Effing Great At

I promised last time that I would do Part II of the "Things I Suck At" post, which is naturally entitled

Things I Am Pretty Spectacular At (or Things At Which I Am Pretty Spectacular)

• Spelling and grammar. 
  
  
  
• Handwriting.

  

  Okay, not THAT good, but still...

  
  

• Picking out individual smells or notes in perfumes, foods, or jellybeans. 
  
  
  
• Yoga. Or at least the easier poses in yoga.
  
  
  
• Quoting Mary Poppins, The Princess Bride, Star Wars, and Mean Girls.
   
   
   
  
  
  
• Shopping. And not only am I good at the act of shopping, but I'm great at finding something for the absolute cheapest price.
  
  
  
• Finding things on the internet. I'm a Googlemaster. 
  
  
  
• Understanding what dogs are saying.
  
  
  
• Imagining things.
  
  
  
  Especially epic conversations that will either never happen or didn't happen the way I wish they had. 
  
  
• Whistling. I'm a great whistler. 

              

See? I think acknowledging my strengths and weaknesses makes me a well-rounded and self-actualized individual. 

Right??

Things I Am Terrible At

So, while I was bored one day I made a list of things I'm Awesome At and Things I Suck At (or, to be grammatically proper, "Things At Which I Am Awesome" and "Things At Which I Suck"). I was inspired by this video by Jenna Marbles, and thought I'd make a list instead of a video. Because of my duck voice and all. 

That and my Moviemaker is broken, and I don't have any other video editor because I'm poor of reasons.

So, without further ado:

Things I Suck At

• Math. 
  
  
  
• Dieting.
  
  
  
• Running. 
  
  
  
• Lip reading. 
  
  
  
• Acting (but not lying...there's a difference)
  
  
  
• Cutting anything with scissors. Cutting anything in a straight line EVER.
  
  
  
• Anything that involves aim, including most sports. 
  
  
  
• Estimating. Like, "How many people were there?" 12? 100? I have no idea. 
  
  
  
• Dancing. I am white when it comes to dancing. 
  
  
  
• Getting a tan. 
  
  
  
• Reaching things that are high. 
  
  
  
  
  
  Next up: my list of things I'm GREAT at! Because I don't want everyone to message me and be like, "Omg, Mary, why do you hate yourself??" I don't, just calm down. 

Relevant gif's are relevant.

I found a couple of these floating around the web, and had to post/share them, just because they're hilarious and ACCURATE. Plus, I love gif files. But you already knew that. 

I'm mostly just kind of jealous that someone has 15 inflatable animals. And NO, I don't mean this in any kind of PERVY way, I just wish I had a zoo of inflatable animals. Preferably marine ones.

And finally, my favorite: 

:)

Hope things are as well with you as they are with me!

Library and Lestat.

My new job is AMAZING! 

I feel like this. 

The people are so sweet (I'm the youngest...again. I guess I shouldn't be bothered, because you're never as young as you are right now), I'm surrounded by books, I got to help move/relocate the children's section so I got very familiar with the layout of things, there are MANATEE coloring sheets and posters (haven't used either yet, but that's coming...whether they know it or not), and the kids get so into story time that it's just amusing to be there and see their reactions. 

And then, as if being surrounded by books wasn't convincing enough to me that I "belonged" there, my co-workers asked two questions that solidified this in my mind:

1. How many animals do you have and what kind of tea do you like?

2. Do you watch much TV? If not, that's okay, as long as you've seen the essential films: Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and The Princess Bride. 

AWESOME!

It's just a much better fit. There are things I miss about my old job, of course, but this just feels really right. 

I'm actually kind of excited. 

On that note, I wanted to do a book review on Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice. 

This is one of those books that I've been meaning to read FOREVER and my aversion to blood and gore kept me from doing so. But then I was like, "I really want to read Dracula again, but I want to read it for the first time (did you know that if you read a book 6 times you can guess the ending??)." So I decided not to read Dracula again, and instead read what society has deemed a paragon of vampire fiction (but real vampires. Not the Cullens, amusing as they are). 

I actually really liked this book, and apart from one scene in particular (which I can't explain without major spoilers), it was not as gory as I had anticipated. Rice has that JK Rowling-esque quality of sucking (no pun intended) you into the story within the first couple of pages to the point that you don't want to put the book down. 

It's basically a story that takes place in the present day, when a young writer sets up an interview with Louis, the vampire, to write about his life story. He's skeptical at first, but Louis's life story is so flooded with detail (and various displays of vampirism) that he ends up believing...and rightly so. Louis's whole life is pretty tragic, but he finally reaches the point of death by depression, and this is when the vampire Lestat comes in and turns him into a vampire. Lestat basically wants Louis's plantation, and that's why he did it, but it ends up working out well for Louis as well, who didn't want any business living. Louis is a very sensitive, pensive, and melancholy vampire who spends a lot of time pondering if there's a God or not, and how he fits into that whole scheme. Also, he lives on rats. Ultimately, the slave workers on the plantation realize what's going on, so instead of going away quietly in the night, Louis burns his plantation. Still not sure why. At this time, Lestat turns a child into a vampire, Claudia, and he and Louis become her "parents." Obviously, this is problematic, because about 60 years in, Claudia realizes she'll never grow up physically even though she's mentally matured. 

Anne Rice is very ambiguous about the nature of Louis and Claudia's relationship, btw, but I tend to call shenanigans on that one. 

Without spoiling the story, Claudia and Louis leave Lestat for Europe where they hope to find more vampires (they also commit some more arson, because why not?). They do, in Paris. This part is creepy and it actually totally sucks plot-wise because I don't like the characters and I can't say why not without spoiling the ending of the story. But Louis and Claudia should have just stayed in America. They could've gone to the Pacific Northwest and taken up with a clan of sparkling vegetarian vampires....

...oh wait. 

Anyway, it was a really good vampire book, and I absolutely recommend it if you like that kind of thing. Nowhere near as good as Dracula, and totally different, but I'm glad I read it. 

Btw, if you're curious, you can read my Dracula synopses here: http://seaofsnark.blogspot.com/2011/11/dracula-part-i-when-in-transylvania.html

"'Leverage,' says you. 'I think I feel a change in the wind,' says I."

Oh, guys. So much has happened, and I'm only just now having a moment to write about it! 

First of all, I am done working at the Coupon Book/Advertising place where I was. I'm grateful for the time I had there, because I learned so much. The experience I gained made the whole thing worthwhile. However, that being said, I'm really glad that I got a new job, not because it was so miserable or anything, but I am just not a receptionist. If you know me, you know this. I abhor telephones. I will do anything to get out of answering a phone. I don't even know where my cell phone is half the time, and I just don't care! So sue me! So that was never really my cup of tea. 

Secondly, MY NEW JOB!!! Guys, I got a job at a LIBRARY! And not just any library, the Maitland Public Library, which is a) right down the street from my dad's office, b) super old, and c) SUPER CHARMING! Check out a couple of these pics and prepare to be stricken with envy:

So pretty! And it's as lovely inside as it is outside. My position is a little ambivalent...it's being developed, but basically, I'll be assisting the director of youth services with whatever he needs, as well as picking up some basic library skills and circulation (I GET TO USE THE STAMP!). I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but it's something completely different, and I think a library is a perfect place for me. I will be surrounded by books on a daily basis. How could that not be fantastic??

I have some time off this week between jobs, for which I'm really grateful. I finished college, was already managing Plato's and walked right into the coupon book job, without a second to breathe between any of it, so I'm really happy to just have some downtime this week. 

Anyway, I am so excited that one of my dreams (to work in a library) has come true, and I'm really excited to see where this all goes!