Day 54: In KNEE'd of Some Crutches

Wow. Three posts in a half hour...I'm really outdoing myself here.  Ha. Or frantically trying to make up for my wonderful ability to procrastinate.

I'm a gimp. My knee doesn't work.  The same knee that gave out on me a week ago on the treadmill, has reared its ugly head and is determined to get its revenge.

Ok knee cap.  You've made your point.  Now back off ;)

I'm on crutches.  Me? Crutches?  Pretty ridiculous.  What's even more ridiculous is that I'm hobbling around at work and at home...trying to keep a tough face on, when I'm pretty sure it would be far less painful to just saw off my entire limb with a dull fork.  No joke.

The palms of my hands are bruised, I've already tripped on the dog half a dozen times, and don't even get me started on the flight of steps I have to do for Janie's four daily potty breaks.  My only stable leg is getting ready to call Egypt and ask for some protesting advice, my arm pits hurt...and I've become quite adept at trying to carry things in my mouth (watch it, pervs).

The only solace that I really have...is that by the end of this ordeal, I may develop arms like Michelle Obama.  That's what I'm holding out for anyway ;)

But what this has given me (in the instant satisfaction category), is a new-found appreciation for the far-more-mobile version of Sarah that I knew all-too-well 48 hours ago.  You don't realize how important something is, until it is taken away.

Do you know what it's like to use crutches on ice? or packed snow?  Do you know what it's like to use crutches on stairs and wrestle with a 12-year-old frisky cocker?  Have you ever tried getting dressed or getting into the shower, while only using one leg?  Have you tried to open non-handicap doors on a slippery floor? Or carry your lunch? or a purse? or...sneak through small spaces?  It's brutal.  Even my own home is a virtual land-mine for someone with mobillity issues, and I never even realized it until someone took my mobility away.

It gives me a new appreciation for the people I volunteer with (in both places).  Yes, I see their walkers.  Yes, I see their wheelchairs, but I never realized how big of a challenge they really have ahead of them.  How big of a battle every day becomes when you have legs that don't work.  It sucks.  I'll never know what it's truly like to be them.  I'll never know what it's like to have legs that don't work, or are paralyzed or deformed.  I'll never know what it's like to have permanent mobility issues...and I'm thankful for that.

These crutches have given me such a profound sense of appreciation for all of those who battle those struggles every day.  For those who don't get to hang up their walker after a few days, for those who are confined to a wheelchair.  Their strength is admirable.  Their determination to make it through is astounding...and it's something that I won't soon forget.

I'm in KNEE'd of some crutches.

And I'm thankful for (what) that ('s given me).

Day 53: Good Night my Someone

"Good night, my someone,
Good night, my love.
Sleep tight, my someone,
Sleep tight...my love.

Our star is shining,
Its brightest light,
So good night, my love, for goodnight."

If I was a betting woman, I would put money down on the fact that Megan Matthews is probably the only person who will properly identify those song lyrics...and possibly hum along.

It's a song from the Music Man, and a song I sing often when I'm alone in my house.  Actually, I have my own set list of mushy, romantic, sucks-to-be single songs that I sing in the safety of my own home.

This song, is one of them.

Because the character who sings it, is singing out to the stars, because she doesn't have any one else to sing it to.


"But I must depend,
On a wish and a star.
As long as my heart,
Doesn't know who you are."


Depressing, isn't it?  Even more depressing when you consider the fact that I sing this song alone in my house, well, technically, I sing this song to a borderline deaf dog...but in my defense, I'm not sitting in a picture window (like Marian) and singing to the stars.  Though I find it incredibly romantic that she sings it to the stars.  When I'm away from someone I love, I tell them to look at the moon, and (for some reason) I find solace in the fact that (no matter how far apart we are), we're gazing at the exact same thing.  Makes you seem closer in a hopelessly romantic world.

 Ok...so why all this mush you ask?

Because I met someone that I could see myself singing this song to.  I'm writing Day 53 on Day 54...because I had a date on Day 52 and Day 53 ;)  And two dates last week.  That's four dates in seven days...and a mighty impressive record if you don't mind me saying so myself ;)

He's fantastic.  When people ask what's wrong with my foot...I joke that he swept me off my feet too fast ;)  Romantic, right? He's perfect, and like no one I've ever dated before...and certainly no Minnesotan, because up until he came along, I was convinced that all men in this God-forsaken state were destined to be alone, and wouldn't know a good thing if she walked right up to 'em and kissed 'em on the lips (because, trust me, I've kissed a few :P ha).  But this particular man (and Minnesotan) that I met, did just that.  He swooped me into his arms and hasn't let go (yet).  Tells me every day that he's crazy about me.  He calls, he texts...he doesn't play stupid games.  Doesn't run away and hide, or panic when things get serious.  He wants to see me as much as he can, and can't get enough of me.  He opens doors, picks up tabs, and has a hankerin' for protecting me and keeping me safe.  He's perfectly adorable, says all the right things at the right time, and makes me feel like I'm a girl that's worth showing off, and a girl that's worthy of love.  And that's huge.

Oh, and he's hot.  Incredibly hot with big bulging muscles.  And that helps ;)

Ha.  He's probably reading this now, which instantly makes this more embarassing.

But if I know him like I think I do, he won't care.  He's probably smiling to himself now, saying "Oh Honey," in this adorable southern accent he picked up somewhere between Albert Lea and Eagan, and scratching his head to come up with some self-deprecating comment to deflect my compliment.

Which is fine by me...because pretty soon, I may have someone to sing this to.

"Sweet dreams be yours dear,
If dreams there be.
Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.

I wish they may,
And I wish they might.
Now good night, my someone.
Good night."

xoxo

Day 52: 4 Seasons

If you like snow...you may as well move to Minnesota.  No, seriously.  The winter in this state is ridiculous.  I've pretty much had it up to my eyeballs with snow (or in snow, as the case may be sometimes...).  I think we've had three major blizzards...and by blizzard, I mean over a foot of snow over the course of the day (that should seriously be outlawed).  It's just plain goofy.

I don't know if my hatred for blizzards stems from the fact that I have to be the goon standing outside on a street corner in -20* temps telling people it's cold outside...or if a foot of snow is just really too much for any one person to handle...but when it really comes down to it...I like all that snow (in smaller doses).

Ok, it's not so much the snow...but the four seasons.

I can't imagine living in a place like California.  For starters, my boobs aren't nearly big enough, I could start a fire in a library with my thighs, and bleach blonde hair probably wouldn't look so good on my olive skin...but even if I could fit in there, I'm not sure I'd want to.  I like snow, I like trees with colorful leaves (something Montana lacked), I like the smell of sunshine, when the snow starts to melt away and birds start chirping in the trees.  I love the resurgence of flowers in the Spring, and the crunch of fallen leaves beneath my feet in the fall.  I love making snow angels, and sledding and snow shoeing (though, let me tell you, it's harder than it looks).  I love the cool crisp air of fall, and heaping cups of hot apple cider.  I love tromping through a pumpkin patch, sleigh rides, sun-kissed shoulders, and brown paper packages tied up with string (ha...I couldn't help myself).

What would life be like with only sunshine?  Dull.  Uninteresting. Boring.  Not for me.

In order to appreciate the ups, you have to have the downs...and trust me, that sundress seems like the Holy Grail in the middle of a Minnesota winter.    The concept of not having to look like a marshmallow every where you go, sounds amazing.  Ahhhhhh yes, I can appreciate the flip flops, after being forced to wear boots for 8 months of the year.  And you can rest assured that the thought of being in a bikini in a week and a half sounds absolutely phenomenal, after looking like an eskimo for so long.

I hate the blizzards - but I love what they mean.  I live in a 4-season state...and if I just hunker down for a little while, Spring will be here before I know it ;)

I live in a state that has all four seasons...

And I'm thankful for that ;)

Day 51: Friends and Favors

There was a lot of pressure today to make today's show flawless.

a LOT of pressure.

Actually, I think I was more nervous for *this* show than I was for my very first show at the anchor desk.  I know...I'm a bundle of nerves...a little high strung...a little tightly-wound.  I can't help it.  I worry when I tell others not to...panic for no good reason, and overanalyze til I'm blue in the face.  I'm a third-generation worry wart (thank you Mom and Baba...you pretty much could have left this one out of the gene pool :P)  And no matter how hard I try...it can be a little hard to rein in.

I started freaking out this morning when I woke up, parted the shades and saw nothing but white.  ::damnit::

I started worrying about the day long before I ever had to.  Lame.

But what I will say is this...I have fantastic friends (and family).  As Pete said, the show was a "flawless victory" (thank you, Mortal Kombat), and I couldn't have done it without him.  Pete is my right-hand man on the weekends.  You were on board with all my wacky-ness from the beginning, you've always had my back, and I'm pretty certain you would saw off a limb or two if it would make me happy.  Today wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for you.  You rocked the house.  Seriously.  Thank you for putting up with my 9,000 phone calls.  Thank you for rolling with the punches...and thank you for believing in me.

To David, who came in on his day off to run cameras, to Chad, who came in on his day off to help David, and help make sure all the video got to where it needed to be, to Daren, who also came in on his day off to make sure the I's were dotted, and the T's were crossed in Austin - THANK YOU.  Thank you for answering the call when I called in a favor ;)  And yes, I owe you all dinner -- we'll just have to space it out, so I can afford rent.  Ok? Thanks ;)

To my personal cheerleading squad: My parents, Jill, Ross and Jonny - Thank you.  Next time I'll have to send over some pom poms ;)  Your encouragement meant so much, and helped keep me calm (even when that seemed outside of the realm of possibility).   You reached for my hand and touched my heart.  THANK YOU!


I'm a goof ball.  An absolute worrying nut...but on Day 51, that overbearing nut had a phenomenal day...

And it's all because of friends...and favors :)

And I'm thankful for that. 

Day 50: Stairway to Mama

I love my dog.

Like seriously...love my dog.

She's my fur baby (which is further proof that she's mine...because we're both hairy! ha!)  There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her...and sometimes I go a little over the top.  But in my defense...I don't have children, I don't have a significant other, so she just so happens to be the object of my affection.  And she deserves it.  She survived 7 years of abuse before our paths ever crossed, and helps me conquer PTSD on a daily basis.

She's awesome....my little 12-year-old DOGter, Janie...J-Bombs...ganoosh.

If you know her, chances are you love her too.

There are so many things I'm thankful for when it comes to "J"...but I've narrowed it down to one for the purpose of this post :P

It was recently brought to my attention (by a visitor that will remain un-named), that it's weird to have dog stairs to your bed.  Ha! Can you believe it?  Ok...maybe it is a little weird...but it's not that weird. Afterall, there's a company that makes doggy stairs (and different models of said stairs no less), so I can't be the only person in the U-S-of-A that has a set.  I'm not really all that wild about the steps, but what they give me.

A snuggle buddy.

My dog is 12.  To my knowledge, she hasn't medaled in the high jump or long jump in the doggy Olympics, and I doubt she would either, because, let's be honest, as a cocker spaniel, her legs are about as long as her mama's (proportionally speaking of course), so it's not like she'd be able to get onto the bed any other way.  Is this weird that I'm defending my dog's status as a permanent bed mate?  Ha.

Well, I don't care...because I love it.  Because right now, my sweet little fur baby has her head on my knee, and she's looking up at me with those big brown eyes.  She'll stay in bed with me til she thinks I'm asleep (it's actually kind of cute), then she'll sew her wild oats throughout the house, and come back into bed when I wake up.  She'll always be curled up into my knee-pit, and I think it's the cutest thing ever.  Who doesn't love a readily accesible cuddle buddy?

My days with her are numbered.  I know that. She knows that. Her vets know that.  She's in the beginning stages of heart failure, she has chronic ear, eye and skin issues, and she's going deaf (I've only now just admitted that to the world, so go easy on me).  My little baby is slipping through my fingers, and I cherish all the seconds I have left in this world with her.

So, yes...I have a set of doggy stairs at the foot of my bed.

And a doggy that loves them.

And a mama that loves them more.

Day 49: I have a date! (stop laughing, it's true!)

I am so far behind...so, so, so far behind.  It's Day 52...and I'm still stuck on Day 49.  Well...not stuck per se...just wonderfully pre-occupied these past couple of days.  I could probably spend the next two months telling you that I'm thankful for that preoccupation...but that wouldn't be all that exciting...would it?

So here goes.

I'm going on a date on Monday.  ::Ahem:: No need to laugh...I'll wait til you're done.  Good? Ok...continuing on.

I'm going on a date on Monday with an incredibly attractive, sweet, caring, kind, wonderful human being...who (get this) actually wants to be seen with me in public.  (Hard to believe, I know).

For all intents and purposes, my post could end here, but what fun would that be?

What's even better about going on a date...is that my previously-referenced "psycho ex" (though admittedly, that title seems a bit harsh), not only knows about said date...but gave me his blessing.  Whether or not that blessing was heartfelt, doesn't really matter.  He knows, and I don't have to tiptoe around.  Don't have to worry that my phone will ring, or I'll be inundated with text messages.  I don't have to feel guilty, or bad.  Don't have to have my heart in one place when my mind is in another.

If you knew our past, you'd understand why it was such a HUGE deal for me and my (at times) non-existent backbone to look him right in the eye...say I'm going on a date...say I like the guy a ton...and seal the deal with a "I'm sorry, I know this hurts you...but I'm really not sorry, because he makes me the happiest I've been in a long time."

It's like 1,000 pounds of pressure, guilt and frustration evaporated off my shoulders.  It's a new lease on life, a new beginning...it's exciting!

I have a date on Monday.

And I'm thankful for that :)

Day 48: Taking a Stand

One of the most wonderful things about finding yourself again...finding your spark...your happiness...is that it restores your confidence...and with that confidence a renewed sense of self...and self worth.

I deserve to be blissfully happy...and I'm not settling for anything less.  Today was proof of that :)


I stood up for myself...like REALLY stood up for myself.   In front of a room full of people...saying words that were hard to hear, but needed to be said.  That may not sound all that shocking to most of you.  I'm opinionated. I'm loud. I have a big mouth.  I'm pretty direct. 

That is...until I love you.

The more I care, the harder it is for me to hurt someone.  Even if I get the guts to stand up to you once, I'm easily swayed, easily woo'd (is that a word?)...easily persuaded that my simple act of bravery was wrongly directed.

You start crying after I break up with you? My instinct is to hug you and wipe your tears...not walk away.  You ignore my phone calls for weeks, and then finally call?  I'll avoid the first call (because I'm tough!) but once I listen to that voicemail...I'm a sucker, and I'll inevitably end up calling you back.  I'm a nurturer plain and simple...and that doesn't bode well for my status as a bad-ass.

But today? I stood up for myself...spoke my mind to someone (that at one point) meant the world to me...and I didn't back down...and that's fantastic.

I don't need to settle...not for anything less than pure bliss.

I stood up for myself today...and didn't back down.

And I'm thankful for that :)