We Do Not Kill Bunnies in This House, Mister!

We do NOT kill bunnies in this house, Mister!

These are the words my neighbors heard me screaming across the lawn at my dog, Milo today. We have a little burrow in our backyard where a bunny must have given birth because there are a bunch of baby bunnies in there.

Milo found it. A couple of days ago he kept sniffing a patch of dead grass and jumping back in surprise. I watched it for a little bit until I went over there.

Pity sake Milo! Stop being such a drama queen! It's just a patch of dead... oh.

He's been crazy about going into the backyard ever since. I've been trying to keep him away from it. I took him out today and let him near enough to sniff it (which is all he did last time).

This time he stuck his stupid nose in and pulled out a tiny, little baby bunny. I started screaming and swatting Milo's rear end until he dropped the bunny. I threw his butt back in the house grabbed a towel and went back outside to return the bunny to its burrow.

Poor bunny tried to get away from me, but it couldn't hop properly yet so it just sort of flopped around in a circle.

After I came back inside, Milo and I had a long conversation about how killing bunnies is not what we do in this household. I don't think much of it sunk in. He's standing at the back door trying to get me to take him out as I type. Bad dog. Poor bunny.

Statistically

Here's a snippet of a conversation I was having with my Dad this morning:

D: Powerball is up to $250 million. If you have an extra $20 you should play.

Me: People who win the lottery are usually unhappy. You want me to be unhappy?

D: Stupid people who win the lottery are unhappy. You'll be fine. Plus...

Me: Plus?

D: Well, you're statistically more likely to get attacked by a shark than win the lottery. But, if you manage to win the lottery, do you realize how statistically unlikely it is that you'd be attacked by a shark, too?

Me: Right, because those things are inversely proportional to one another?

D: You'd be bulletproof.

Me: Sign me up.

Anybody else going to be playing Powerball tonight?

One of These Days

One of these days, you will learn the difference between a shoulder to cry on and a punching bag. While I am always willing to be the former, I am not willing to be the latter anymore.

I get to matter.

You're not the only one who is disappointed.

As always, I'm here if you need me.

Juice Guy

My employer provides free juice, milk and popcorn and the people in this building go through like green tea like it's going out of style. So, there are about 10 jugs of Green Tea sitting out in the break room, I assume because they didn't fit in the refrigerator.

The note accompanying the jugs reads:

These jugs are fine to sit out. The tea will not spoil.

Thanks,
Juice Guy

I pretty much love that he signed the note "Juice Guy"
It makes sense. If he had signed his name, I would have thought, "who the hell is that?"

Still, awesome!

Shadows and Nightmares

Can someone stop this ride, please? I'd like to get off.

On Friday, I had another ultrasound done on my right breast. The lumps from before are stable, and one even seems to have gotten smaller (Yay!). But, and this particular "but" seems to be a reoccurring theme, they found a new lump.

The radiologist wants to just watch it and see if it's stable. My surgeon wants to operate or biopsy; she always wants to operate or biopsy. In this case, because I'd rather be careful, yet I don't want my breasts to look like a war zone, so I sided with my surgeon, but opted for the biopsy.

The nurse asked me if my doctor had explained the procedure to me. I said that she hadn't, but that it was unnecessary since I just had a biopsy in March.
She nodded sympathetically, but looked vaguely uncomfortable.
She asked if I had any questions.
"This is the one in the basement, right? They call me to schedule it?" I asked, just to make sure.
Unfortunately, these questions made the nurse explain the WHOLE procedure to me from beginning to end. I wanted to stop her, but I think it made her feel better to tell me, so I just let her go on.

It's funny (not 'ha ha' funny) how people respond to this kind of thing.
The radiologist was jovial. "You've had an awful lot of biopsies for someone your age!" with a giant smile.
Well, yeah. And thanks for bringing it up.

The radiology tech was apologetic. She mouthed "sorry" to me when she found the lump.
Me too. But I'd rather you found it, than not.

The surgeon was friendly. "It was great to get to see you again!" (super-upbeat tone)
Really? Maybe for you.

The husband is overly concerned. He asked if I wanted him to take off work to go with me to consult with the surgeon today. Sweet, and yet somehow annoying.
I'm not dying. And this appt was just so my surgeon could give her two cents about what I should do. Calm down.

I? Have an overactive imagination. When I'm there in the doctor's office, it's like I can see a corridor in time of what happens if it is cancer. I'm not going to explain what I see because an embarrassing amount of it is overly dramatic and silly. But, I think you're allowed to be a little overly dramatic and silly when considering the possibility of cancer, for at least a minute or two.

In a lot of ways, I am lucky. I keep winning the lottery. This thought helps keep me from being too maudlin or self indulgent, but it doesn't quite chase away the fear. That doesn't happen until everything comes back as okay and I forget about this until my next follow up appointment when this starts all over again.

Yellow

I'm wearing a yellow shirt today. It's new.
I only have two yellow shirts in all my closet and I've bought both in the last three months.

I like my yellow shirt.
It bright and cheerful.
It's like wearing a hug.
It wraps me up in a cocoon of warm color and soft fabric.

I should remember I like yellow shirts the next time I go shopping.

Why I Love the X Games - Part Two

Here is some of the commentary from the Moto X Freestyle competition I was watching tonight on TiVO.

Commentator 1: It's interesting to note that no non-US or international player has ever won this competition.

Commentator 2: Isn't non-US and international basically the same thing?

Commentator 1: Uh, well Americans can be international, too, so I just wanted to be clear that it was non-US.

Damn, are they dumb! They know a lot about Moto X. They can tell you what the tricks are and pretty much the complete history of every trick, but when they get to jabbering outside of their industry specific knowledge, holy shit are they dumb!

Luckily, that just makes it more entertaining for me. It may or may not make the husband uncomfortable when I shout back at the television and tell them how dumb they are.