I actually have a good excuse, though. I was out of commission for a week due to kidney issues. If you haven’t experienced kidney issues, i.e. infection or stones, let me tell ya, I would rather get a Brazilian wax five times in a row. HORRIFIC!!!  The pain started on Saturday, I self-diagnosed myself having gas because I am a medical doctor, you know, the kind that has a BA from a liberal arts college.  After many attempts to expel the gas with no luck (yes, I was trying desperately to rip one), I then decided that I must have pulled a muscle in the right side of my back.

Cut to four hours later, me in a fetal position on the floor with my 6′7″ boyfriend, towering over me, not knowing what to do.

Rob: Lauren, I think we need to go to the emergency room.

Me: (doing Lamaze breathing) I’m fine. I think it’s a combination of gas and a pulled muscle.

Rob: Ummm.. yeah… no, it’s not. You’ve called three people and they all think it’s either a very bad kidney infection or an appendicitis.

Me: I’m not going to wait 7 hours in a disease-infested emergency room where everyone is claiming to have the Swine Flu. I can wait to see my doctor on Monday. Rob!!! For the love of God, stop standing over me, you look like a giant from the ground and it’s making me nauseous.

Rob: No, I think you hurled over in pain, is making you nauseous.

18 hours later…….

Me: Rob, I think I need to go to the ER.

Rob was already standing at the door. I think he might have slept there, standing up, with my purse and hoodie in his hand.

I was rather impressed with how quick the Northwestern Memorial ER got me in – about an hour. Once they took my blood pressure, and it was rather high, they made a space for me. Interesting fact; Did you know that severe pain could cause a temporary rise in your blood pressure..hmmm…. check it out:

http://www.healthcentral.com/high-blood-pressure/question-answer-27312-63.html

Moving on… I’m in the back.. great nurse… though bad skills at inserting an IV as blood went everywhere at the initial inclusion of the needle which shouldn’t happen. I had horrible pain.. they gave me drugs…. I was incredibly nauseated…. they gave me drugs….. I was dehydrated…. they gave me several bags of saline, which isn’t really a drug, but it made me feel better so I’m calling it a drug.

I was in the ER from noon to 8pm before I was admitted to the hospital. I want to share a couple of embarrassing, but favorite moments that occurred before I was sent to the actual hospital room:

1) I was on my way to the bathroom with my IV and rollable pole (whatever it’s called that the IV bag hangs from) and was about to puke on the floor. My boyfriend (6′7″, 280 lbs) picked me and the IV pole up, at the same time, and ran to the bathroom so I could make it to the toilet. AND everyone in the place noticed especially because my thong-clad butt was hanging out of my gown.

2) The pain killers were obviously super strong as I told the nurse who gave them to me that I would make-out with her if she kept injecting me. WHAT?? Lauren! Just don’t talk!!!! UGH!

3) A homeless guy in the room next to me (in the ER) was screaming obscenities, throwing whatever was near him and yelling “I’m HONGREY, Bitch!!” to the nurse.

4) They tested me twice to make sure I wasn’t pregnant and I thought Rob was going to need oxygen while we waited. I was on drugs…. I didn’t care.

So…. my apologies for being MIA. I’m back!

I’m not launching a topic this week as I’m revamping the blog a bit, however, I will still rollout lovely lady stories that need a little laughing and support. GYNA is still centered around embracing the embarrassed, but we’re just going to do it in a different way. STAY TUNED!

You heard it hear, well, I’m sure you heard it from many, other forums that are more popular…  Helen SHOULD NOT HAVE WON THE BIGGEST LOSER!! The woman let her YOUNG daughter eliminate herself earlier in the season so that she could stay on. Furthermore, she never talked about going back home and helping her daughter reach her goals, grow into a empowered, confident woman and all those other things that the mothers/fathers talked about for their children on the show. For that matter, she never mentioned her daughter, Shannon, after she was voted off.  I don’t know the woman from Eve (do you like how I changed the expression from “Adam” to “Eve?” GIRL POWER!! Okay, now that last note was just immature, but yet it felt like a sweet burp after chugging an entire can of Diet Coke.)

Where was I? Oh yeah.. I don’t know Helen, but it was aired on national TV, very bluntly, that the woman threw her child under the bus to get ahead.  Her whining didn’t even bother me, hell, I would whine if I had Jillian screaming at me to do chin-ups will she was wrapped around my body. They go through a tough time, but c’mon Helen, the cameras don’t lie and yes, Hollywood may edit the show to their liking, but you can’t really edit Shannon’s obvious regret about her decision.

I’m not the only one pointing attention to this issue with her daughter. See the video:

Helen Biggest Loser 7

I’ve watch this five times. Make it six because I just paused and watched it again as the audio is a little distorted. I still don’t buy it! She’s says that she told her daughter that she wanted to go but her daughter, WHO IS HER CHILD, insisted to be voted off. Her position is that she was honoring her daughter’s wishes. So, as I’m understanding this, her daughter was saying; “Mom, I am young and have struggled with my weight all my life, yet you use to be thin. I am single, young, scared, have a horrible body image and not sure I can do this, meanwhile, you’re married, in a stronger mindset to leave and do this on your own… but, I can tell that you want to be the one to stay so.. I …guess… I’ll go?” Helen’s response: “No, I will sacrifice myself, but if you insist, I am your mother and will honor your wishes. Now, hurry up and pack, and don’t leave any workout gear as I’m thinner than you are now and won’t be able to wear it.”

SHEESH! Okay, off my chest!

I’m not a total monster. This blog IS dedicated to supporting and laughing-off embarrassing moments so here goes: Helen, I found this photo on the Biggest Loser Website and girl, you’re not alone. I’ve burned 20 photos of myself that were much worse than this. I don’t think I was sober or coherent, though. Was it really necessary for them to post this picture? See, I can be empathetic.

For the love of God, stop my sweating! I spend all this time trying to look put-together and it’s constantly upstaged by my ring-around-the-armpits. It’s really disturbing how huge the circles can get. I had on a charcoal shirt yesterday and the perspiration was SO FREAKIN BAD that the sweat rings were obvious. I was thinking, hey, I have on garment guards (goes under your arms http://tiny.cc/8yjQ6) and Certain Dri applied, I’m good. WRONG. The worst part is that I gave a presentation yesterday (in case you didn’t know, I’m a commercial carpet rep by day) and was picking up samples, pointing at my power point and exposing my armpits as much as possible with no idea that I sweating under my arms like a 300 lb linebacker after playing an entire football game.

After much research last night, I self-diagnosed myself (here I go again) with Hyperhidrosis which is a condition consisting of excessive sweating of the palms, feet and armpits:

http://www.sts.org/sections/patientinformation/othersurgery/hyperhidrosis/

It’s funny how I bring this up to random girlfriends and some of them fess-up to suffering from the same condition, however, the level of the sweating various. Here’s a good article suggesting remedies no matter the level:

http://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/stop-excessive-sweating?page=1

I for one, have a very bad case. I’m talkin’ yellow armpits on white shirts I’ve worn twice, sweating through double layers and living in brown and black EVERYDAY because I sweat through all other colors, as pointed out previously, even charcoal! So… I’m bringing in the big guns, Drysol. Supposedly, it’s prescription only, however, I found a website you can buy it from. I don’t care if it’s black market, if it owns up, I’m in:

http://buydrysol.com/

If that doesn’t work, I’m reverting to Botox (as stated in the Women’s Health article.) Keep that needle away from my face, but go to town on my armpits if it controls the sweating. I’m desperate. I’ll try Drysol first.

Hopefully, this stuff will work and my boyfriend won’t have to do armpit checks every time we go into a restaurant. FYI, this is not something I asked him to do. My sweat rings were so bad at a Cubs/Cardinals game that he voluntarily bought me a $50 tank top from the sports shop to change into.  You can imagine how hot I felt…. no pun intended.

Catchy title, huh? Actually, no catch at all, I’ve had to deal with all three things in the last 24 hours. Let me break it down for you:

1) Yesterday morning, I was walking with two huge bags full of materials for a presentation. I was feeling pretty cute, black/white pants, high-collared white blouse, black sassy cardigan with hot pink shoes for a zing of color (my lips matched my shoes – I’m all about coordinating.) I was walking through the lawn to the front door of the building when my heel got caught on the seam of my pants!! I bit it right in the middle of the lawn – face to grass as my huge bags toppled over with my butt in the air. I believe I got dirt up my nose because I was snorting through the presentation. I don’t think anyone saw me as no one said anything… they probably laughed at me when I left.

2) Again, about to walk from my car to a presentation, (I think this is a sign… I keep getting my ass kicked before presentations…. I’ll contemplate and blog about my epiphany later) my pants (presentation and pants… hmm) got caught on the side of the rolling bag, when I took my first step, it ripped a MASSIVE strip out of my left pant leg. I didn’t have a mending kit, not that I would have any clue on how to use one… so I took a stapler from my bag and stapled the fabric back to my pants. Can I get a GHETTO!!! Not even fabulous… just freakin GHETTO!!!

3) The kicker. I’m 32 years old (that’s not the kicker), I still feel young, just not 16 years old which is my guestimate of the ages of the teenage males who were keeping their red pickup truck in the lane next to me during rush-hour traffic. Don’t ask me why they were trying to highway flirt with me, I’m clearly old enough to be there mother (if I had gotten knocked-up in high school.) For 20 minutes, they would steady the car next to me, look at me, I’d then look at them, they’d look away abruptly, I’d drive as close to the car in front of me as to not have them stare at me, somehow they’d get next to me again and start the process over. THEN, like any stupid teenage boys going through puberty and not knowing how to control that thing called a penis, they switched lanes to behind me, got almost bumper to bumper to make me look in my rear mirror so I would see the passenger pretending to give the driver a blow job. I tried not to react as they weren’t aware they were mimacking a homosexual act in their effort to flirt with an older woman in a moving vehicle, however, they still high-fived one another and resumed their position in the lane parallel to my car as we crawled down the highway.

I am not making any of this up. I’m now drinking NyQuil to sedate myself for the next seven hours.

Our hotel and location where I eased-dropped on Kathy Baker. Come back MV... COOOMMMMEE BAACCCKKK!!

There’s a place that lives between Cheese Friesland and Ice Cream Paradise, it’s called Martha’s Vineyard.  If you haven’t noticed my shameless name dropping on the last two posts, I went to Martha’s Vineyard last week with my Heterosexual Life Partner, Erica. Though there was much buzz and excitement around the island, let me answer two of your questions 1) NO, I did not have an Obama siting, though not from lack of effort and serious stalking. We did, however, see police cars blocking a road two different times – I’m going to count that as a sort-of.  2) No Kennedy sitings either since dearest Teddy passed away last week. Even though it’s a small island, people hide well there. I, myself, learned how to go stealth because of all the fans who follow my blog. It was a little annoying. Okay – I just lied twice. No one knew who the hell I was and if fans were following me I’d suck that crap up like melted butter off a hot steamin’ lobster. ADORE ME!!! SOMEBODY!!! I just wanted to type that. I’m not Dooce.com…. YET!

As in the theme of my life and blog… even though I was on the calmest, most relaxing Pleasantville on earth, I couldn’t go a week without embarrassing myself. I tried to keep a low profile, but God won’t let me!! Blame him. I bullet-pointed some key moments. It doesn’t help that I have a Southern Accent on an East Coast island.

• My second day there I went for a long run and got COMPLETELY lost. Not surprising as I get lost in my studio apartment, but my 3 mile run turned into 10 miles and a town over. Here I am, on a rural road in the middle of no where, completely spent, sweating with nothing on me except for my IPOD shuffle and starting to panic about how I’m going to get back to my hotel.  Finally a bus starts heading down the street. I live in Chicago so the only way I know how to stop a moving bus is to jump in front of it. Small note – that’s not how you do it in MV. The bus driver was pissed – he flew open the doors and I went into diarrhea-of-the-mouth mode about my excursion then asking for directions to the Harbor View Hotel. He looked at me and said, “HARBOR VIEW?? Get in. Don’t sit down on the seats, you’re too sweaty.” So, horrified, I kept my ass towards the packed passengers and my face forward so I didn’t have to look at anyone. After 6 minutes of traveling, I hear, “Wow. You were really lost.” I turned to look at a cute girl that I wanted to smother in a sweat arm-bar and said, “Yep.” She, in girl-you’re-not-alone fashion, told me that she once got lost running in AFRICA!!!!!! She was super scared, but she was advised not to run into town and somehow she did and everyone was starring at her, sharpening their knives (I threw that last part in – I’m a story teller.) Hello – they kidnap there! Anyway – we bonded  and I didn’t feel AS stupid anymore- I made good with, Don, the bus driver who let me ride for free and ran back to the hotel where I was sure Erica was freaking out because I was gone so long. She opens the door, smiling, and says, “How was your run, good?” Suck it, Er.
• I had a star siting, Kathy Baker, on the porch of the hotel: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000834/. Erica and Jen (other friend who met us there) texted me to run down to the porch that there was an actor and couldn’t remember her name. I run down like a maniac, sat on the rocking chair closest to her, remembered that she was the mom in, “Inventing the Abbott’s,” then cyber-stalked her on my Blackberry while I eased dropped on her conversation. I was waiting on the opportunity to approach her, but the freakin lady talking to her wouldn’t shut-up much less take a mother f’in breath during sentences. I was ready to spit-out her entire resume, thanks to imdb.com, but never had the opportunity. I knocked over my coffee and she looked my way and smiled, so I again, am counting that as a sort-of.
• Oh… before I left for MV, I took out $400 in cash at the grocery store. The giving person that I am, I guess I just wanted someone else to have that money as I left the cash sitting at the ATM. When I went back to Guest Services and asked, “Did anyone turn in $400 in cash,” the girl just starred at me and said, “Boo, that money is gone.”  Thank you, counter girl, for reality-punching me as that was the stupidest question on the face of the UNIVERSE!

I’m sure I did more, but those were the big things. I’m in love with the island, and again, move over boyfriend Rob because I fell in love with not only Murdick’s fudge, but Steamers or little neck clams: http://www.psmfc.org/habitat/edu_pacclam_fact.html

I know – I’m a slut.

I’m going to jump out the window because I returned to the Swine Flu, Carpet Sales (day job) and a broken-down elevator in my apartment building. Dear God.. why you gotta be like that?

Raise your hand if you can say you LITERALLY straddled history? My travelling partner, Erica, lived that dream.

 

 

Ladies, ladies, ladies. I’m sure you’re wondering about my Shape Challenge results for week 17..  You can find them with my roots – HIDDEN!  Okay.. okay… I actually don’t have anything to report in Week 17 – I’m still 148lb which means I didn’t gain anything. THE TURKEY DIDN’T WIN!!! But, it didn’t lose either. The Biggest Loser contestants lose my ideal weight in two weeks. I’m on Week 17 with no reason why I haven’t progressed more.  Slap.. ouch… Slap… ouch.. back on the horse I go!

ALSO – I’m a little disappointed with my lack of focus and diligence to blogging lately! I’m back though – this is my Zen! Girl, you’re not alone if you let chaos win. I have definitely done that lately. I’m a fire hydrant and Tiger Woods’ car is chaos – it has run me over.  But, like the hydrant, I’ll be put back together, refilled with water and sit upright with a red face again. I do feel bloated and have gone a little overboard with blush lately so I think a fire hydrant is an appropriate metaphor.

Anyhow, I had a reader, Ellen, that sent me a little email. Ellen, you’re straight and to the point – I needed that. Thank you. Your words are like warm pudding after a fried chicken dinner:

Hi Lauren. I’ve noticed you haven’t blogged very much lately. I’m assuming that you must be under stress or that your job is hectic. Maybe personal problems are holding you back. There could be so many reasons. I can understand as I was an Executive Assistant for 12 years. My boss had me on call at all times. I hated my job, but loved the money. As my sister says, it was my crack. I also loved making jewelry which was my true happiness. True happiness is healthy. It’s how you’re suppose to live. For 5 years, I would make jewelry when I could, give it for presents and my girlfriends raved about it. They always pushed me to start my own business. I always had intentions to do what I loved, but I always put it on the back burner because my job took up so much of my time. Three years ago, I decided I was going to give my jewelry a plunge. I left at 5pm, and dedicated every extra second to my jewelry. I now have a jewelry line which is my full time job. It’s in 5 major department stores, online and in boutiques across the South.  I’m not bragging.  I’m just telling you that once I kept doing what I loved all the time.. my life was full of joy I never knew I could have. I like your writing. You make me laugh every time I read your blog. You write like you love it so my suggestion is to do it full time. It really is that easy once you decide and dedicate. I hope you do. I’d like to read more from you.

There you have it… you want it.. do it. Ellen, I think you’ve got something here. I would like a photo of you so I can silk-screen it on a t-shirt. You’re my inspiration.

Is what I’ve done. I’ve neglected my child. My literary child if you will… my blog. Why have I committed such a horrendous crime, you ask? I only have one answer:

C’mon I wanna lei ya

NO! I’m not being nasty… well.. I accidentally typed “lay” instead of “lei” the first time so my mind wanted to be nasty, but those were not my intentions!! I was speaking Hawaiian! Ask me why. Someone ask me why! Fine! I’ll just tell you … because I was in Hawaii for a week and learned their language.  I’m almost a native now. I have a flower behind my right ear as I type (left ear if you’re married, right ear if you’re not married which I’m not.. just in a 2 year long-distance relationship. That’s a completely different post.)  My girlfriend is from Hawaii and got married there so a group of us made a trip of it. One week of being in Hawaii… the heart of Mother Nature and home of Mai Tai’s and I got off track. I was back in the mainland last week and I dreaded blogging. I had so many things I wanted to blog about that I couldn’t narrow it down to one post! Where do I start? Do I explain why I’ve been absent or do I just post a story?? WHAT TO DO!! So I procrastinated. And neglected. And felt guilty. And promised myself I would blog when I got home from work… when I didn’t blog when I got home… I would promise myself I would get up early in the morning and do it… THEN I would sleep through my alarm. So my vacation put me in a rut.  Has that ever happened to you? I had so many things to catch up on and though I chipped away at the pile… it just kept building. At one point, I sat in front of my TV, watching the shows I DVR’d and realized I wasn’t really watching them because all I could think about is everything I had to do and how guilty it made me feel. YET… I didn’t do them. Even a wine/sushi/cupcake combo didn’t replace the procrastination guilt with calorie-intake guilt and that always works!

There you go! Whew! I feel so much better even though this post sucks because I’m not being very witty. I need to say something funny… anus.. that’s always a funny word.. or farfegnugen.. that always gives me a giggle.. and makes me hungry… I have no idea why it makes me hungry. Crap. NOW I’m hungry.

Anyway, I know we’ve all been in a place where life piles up on us and we just feel guilty, overwhelmed and lost. But, I already feel better.. just by making myself write.. something.. anything.

By the way, my girlfriend, Mandy, the one who got married, broke out a Hula dance for her new husband at the reception. My boyfriend thought it was amazing.  I, too, was mesmerized while she performed this beautiful traditional dance amidst tropical Oahu landscape while the Hawaiian sunset melted into the ocean… a romantic, loving moment making for a perfect addition to their new nuptials.. and as I grabbed Rob’s hand.. tears welling up in my eyes.. I thought… Bitch. Now I can never get married. How can I ever follow this? I wanted my wedding reception to be in a farm barn with jello shots. I guess I can’t do my famous booty shake dance to Sir Mix-A-Lot’s, “Baby Got Back,” because everyone will think I’m copying Mandy!!! 

Mandy doing the Hula at her wedding.

And.. yes…. ladies… to answer the question in your heads… my booty shake is as romantic and mesmerizing as the Hula… after four jello shots and with a pink heart embroidered backdrop… 

Just see for yourself in the video below. My sister recorded this last year at the Strawberry Festival in Florida. An impromptu Shake-Off with my Uncle George. She says he won, but I beg to differ. Couldn’t you see me doing this in a wedding gown??? GLORIOUS!! Move over Hula!!

So… as I hit “publish,” I wave goodbye to my blog procrastination and guilt. Come back tomorrow for more! ONWARD!!!