Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

I GOTTA PEE..

I am a frequent pee-er (there is not a better way to spell it- first I tried peer, but that means something else). Oh how I wish I could blame this on my 2 pregnancies and incredibly painful deliveries. Alas, I cannot. As far back as I can remember I've been searching for the bathroom wherever I go. In high school there was no time for chit chat between classes. I had a route that included my locker and a bathroom between every class. I didn't have to go between all my classes every day, but I had the route mapped out just in case. In college I knew where the bathroom was in every building regardless of if I'd ever had a class there. I get up every night to pee. Almost always more than once. If I only had to get up once during the night, then I'm probably bloated. I have had countless dreams where I am searching for a bathroom. Searching and searching and searching.... sometimes in a dream I actually find the bathroom, drop trow, sit down, get ready, get set, and CANNOT GO. This is a good thing, because while it's annoying to not be able to go in the dream and wake up ready to burst and running to the bathroom, it would be so much more annoying to wet the bed! Scott would probably want to go all 'I Love Lucy' and get twin beds or more likely 2 queens cuz despite the fact that he was 6'2" and still sleeping in a twin bed in high school he really does not actually fit on one. But, hopefully, I am years away from regressing to bed wetting and having to rock the Depends.

I have peed in some disgusting bathrooms and port-o-potties under the heading of 'beggars can't be choosers'. I have strong quads and have perfected the hoover. I have peed in the woods, in orchards, vineyards, you name it. I grew up in the central valley of CA. Our little town was surrounded by farms of various sorts. During high school there was many a Saturday night when the plan was meet at the canal, the Smith orchard, or the Jones property to hang out and party. And by party I absolutely do not mean there was a keg and/or copious amounts of wine coolers. We of course were drinking pop and having serious mind blowing discourse. Re-read that! I didn't say mind blowing intercourse- discourse people- discussion, verbal exchange, a conversation if you will. At some point during this high minded, soda drinking soiree, I would of course have to pee. One of my friends and I perfected the hold each others hands double squat move thus both simultaneously peeing and holding each other up. It was genius!

Soooo, this morning at 4:37am it was no surprise that I had to haul myself out of bed to go pee. The suckish thing was that my alarm was set for 5:10am. When I see the time, I'm pissed. I will never go back to sleep in that amount of time. I will lay there thinking about how I have to get up in 33 minutes, 30 minutes, 28 minutes, 22 minutes... thanks bladder! I lay back down thinking it's a good idea to try and lay peacefully until I have to get up, mostly because although when I get up at 5:10am I try really hard not to wake Scott, sometimes inexplicably I do and then he can't go back to sleep and that sucks for him and I feel bad and there is no need for him to be up at 4:37am. He doesn't need to be punished just because his kidneys aren't as efficient as mine. Anyhow, I get comfy totally prepared to look at my iphone to see what time it is every 2 minutes and  I start composing this post in my head. Then in a truly shocking turn of events I go back to sleep. At least I think that's what happened based on the fact that all of a sudden the alarm was going off and I was sitting up thinking "what the fuck? I'm up. I'm up!" I couldn't of been asleep for very long because I remember thinking peeing blog thoughts for a little bit. However long it takes to get settled into a nice deep sleep, that's how long I was out. Fuck me! 

I could go on and on regaling you with tales of my full bladder like the time on a high school trip in France when I was on a tour boat sans bathroom and I thought my bladder was going to burst, or how my 5 y/o has announced loudly on our way to find a public bathroom, "mommy do you have to pee again because of all the coffee you drank this morning?" (I do love my coffee which is a possibly related yet completely different issue.) or how Scott factors my pee stops into our travel time, but I can't tell you now because....I gotta go pee. 

Peace & love :-).


Friday, July 1, 2011

HIGH SCHOOL NEVER ENDS

I recently became facebook friends with my high school boyfriend GI Joe. He sent the request. I stared at it a bit, decided I was mature enough to handle it (close call on the maturity thing btw) and then called Scott. If Scott had expressed an issue, then I would have bagged the whole thing. Scott did not care, but he did have this suggestion, "You should accept the request, not say hi on his wall or send a message and then in a few weeks defriend him so his kids can laugh at him." See, Scott's high school girlfriend did this to him awhile back and my daughter and I continue to laugh about it. It's hilarious and it never gets old!


So, I accepted GI Joe's request and with curiosity awaited the first point of contact. I think no matter who you are if you send a friend request and the requestee accepts, then it is your responsibility as the requestor to say something. Does not have to be a detailed account of the past how ever many years, but you should say something. For example you could just post "hey" on their wall. Kinda lame, but it's something. If you are guilty of not saying "hey" to the friends you initiated contact with on the fb, SHAME ON YOU! This is bad behavior!


When GI Joe failed to say "hey" within 24 hours, I sent him a message. Still nothing. Well nothing in what I considered an appropriate turn around time. This sent me into total high school mode. Which in my head went something like:


Should I send a second message? 
Should it be a mean one? 
Why would I be mean (other than I was a pretty big bitch in HS and remember I was feeling very HS)? 
This is stupid! 


I then fired off a message to my college roommate, Valley Girl, recapping these events. Valley Girl said, "I wouldn't read too much into his lack of a proper message. Might be a guy thing. Also, he might be so intimidated by your awesome fitness instructor body that he is paralyzed and can't muster the confidence to talk to you." She totally had a point! Why didn't I think of that?!?

Eventually, to be fair it was only a few days, GI Joe responded and we have since had several pleasant exchanges. For those inquiring minds that want to know, he seems to be doing well and has a lovely wife and beautiful children. You can find him on facebook.



Peace & Love :-)