State of the Union 2012.

WHO shows up at the Apple Store to upgrade her phone, only to realize that she left said phone at home?  The same girl who didn't have time to shower before her OB-GYN appointment.  Let that last sentence sink in for a minute.  Or don't, because now that I think about it, I'm not sure I want you all up in my imaginary lady bits.

Anyway.  I tend to stay out of all things related to cell phones and data plans, but Mike picked up on my hint that I am ITCHING for a new monogrammed iphone case.  Anyone who knows me will instantly realize that I am much more consumed with how my phone looks, than it's actual function--as most times it is sitting dead between the couch cushions in my living room.  Is that the dumbest thing you ever heard?  Well then, hello, I don't think we've met, my name is Sara--and the last time I received an iphone, I dropped it to the BOTTOM of a pool within three weeks.  It was mortifying, except that we sat that baby in a rice bag for three days, and then it rose again from the dead, which is why I firmly believe that Jesus is pro-iphone.  But now I am upgrading for anything that fits into that shnazzy-gray-chevron-pattern-with-the-orange-monogrammed case, because waiting 1.5 minutes for my Hobby Lobby coupon to download is becoming ANNOYING.

In other news:

• I haven't mentioned this yet, but I have had my ultrasound, and all signs point to the fact that I am NOT dying--except that I am still obsessed that they haven't found my cancer yet, and it's possible that this a theory that I will cling to until I die peacefully in my sleep at the age of 132.  I am Okinawan, afterall, and those people live a hell of a long time.  I'm sorry, that sounded kind of racial--even if I am talking about my own race, I know we're not supposed to stereotype people with the ability to defy death.  Let's just stick with the fact that Okinawans are just people, with no defining attributes.  And anyway, they probably didn't consume an entire bag of candy corn in a day 3 hours, which makes my entire point confusing and irrelevant.  

• Many of you have wondered why it took three weeks for an ultrasound, and maybe I should have been more specific--but they needed me to be at a certain point in my "cycle", and I was trying to keep you out of the details of my uterine lining, but a few of you are all up in my bits, so there you have it.  I'm totally kidding--I don't mind the questions at all, and in fact, love regaling you with tales of how I own a picture of my ACTUAL uterus.  However, I have a few male readers, and after the post where I may have gone into graphic detail about my c-sections (link HERE), a few of them commented that they needed to physically burn sections of their brain to remove those images.  This is my very graphic way of telling you that the ultrasound revealed a tiny polyp, which, contrary to what it sounds like is NOT a cute ocean dwelling creature, and that's pretty much great news, because while it sounds magical, no one wants a sea creature swimming about in their parts.  Kidding.  But apparently this thing is neither good nor bad, instead it's the Switzerland of body tissue, and so it probably needs to come on out.   I'm fine with any diagnosis that isn't terminal, but I still have some *issues* that I believe are linked to ovulation (based on my Internet medical degree), and so in my mind, I would still like confirmation that my ovaries aren't housing terrorists--which is now much more likely, after reading G's creative story/assassination plot.

• To recap--this thing isn't cancer, but it's coming out, and this buys me 15 minutes under light anesthesia, and doctors orders to watch "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" for 2 days straight.  As a sidenote:  I once had to go under light anesthesia to have my eggs harvested for the invitro process, and for some reason, I thought it would be a great idea to meet a friend for lunch, IMMEDIATELY after leaving the doctor's office.  

• Our hamster = "Frank the Tank" when it comes to his water bottle.  I'm pretty sure, no I'm POSITIVE, that he drinks more water than me on a single day.  This is alarming, because I have to change his wood chips, and I did NOT sign up for this.  Well, to be fair, I did lead the charge on buying the guinea pig, but I had no idea how hydrated he would be.

• Mike told me I dressed Big J like Kurt Cobain for his school pictures yesterday.  CLEARLY we have a very different idea of what "grunge" looks like, because I feel like I NAILED the nerdy-preppy look.  I'm not sure how it happened, but Kurt Cobain and Mr. Rogers wore the same sweater, apparently.

• Due to God's provision, and a scheduled trip to Indianapolis, it appears that we are going to miss the bike rodeo at the kids school.  Clearly, the dear Lord knew that one of my kids was going to die biking to school, when he/she was unable to fully utilize their breaks; and also, that all five of us on bikes literally form a line an entire block long--which is like an entire mile's worth of constantly crossing the street, and just thinking about it makes me have to take blood pressure medication.  Or we could just drive, but how do you fit all those bikes into a mini van without punching someone in the face?  Much like G's solution in her (violent) short story, I wouldn't put it past me to solve the "too many bikes" problem by exploding the car--just kidding, except I probably would cry and throw some kind of fit, and so a bomb is a proper metaphor for my mental health in this situation.  I was just joking about this to a friend who also mentioned that our school does a unit on roller skating in the spring, and I ALMOST started bleeding out of my ears at the thought of having to find four pairs of kid-sized roller skates--but it turns out that the school rents them for us, and so I can move along and start concerning myself with what bone they are most likely to break.  I know the answer, it's their WRITING arm, because that would be so very like the universe.

• I stopped by a Halloween store today for a Harry Potter tie, and it was purple.  I can't prove it, but I *believe* that the search for a true Gryffindor scarlet-hued tie is going to ruin my life.  In related news, 95% of a Halloween store is a soft porn shop.

• The Cardinals are in the playoffs, again.  This would be awesome, except that I remember how this went last year, and it is emotionally exhausting; and amidst the timing of the polyp and the DAYS it is going to take me to decide on an iphone case, I'm not sure how this is all going to play out in my schedule, except that these sorts of things always end up with me surfing Pinterest at 2 a.m., so I am probably screwed.  What does Pinterest have to do with this?  Exactly.  Also, we are without cable this time, and so I am streaming the games on my computer like a crazy person.  Oh, how I wish my new iphone 5 were here, because I hear there's an app for "baseball prophesy" and Siri could just tell me how this all plays itself out.  What's that, you say, the iphone can't tell me the future?  Then why the hell do people spend that much money on a phone that they sometimes lose in the laundry basket?

Happy Weekend, friends!!!