all I want to do is what I want to do and not listen to you!

…for lack of a better blog entry title.

Around 2am as I laid there wide awake, I realized I actually had something good to say. But then I fell asleep and forgot.

I apparently did not learn my lesson earlier in life. Because when I was in school this would happen ALL the time. I’d have a wicked smart idea for a paper, not get up to make the note, then forget.

So…update…

I got nothin’…

Oh, wait! I’m walking with one crutch (or still walking with 1 crutch if I’ve already told you/seen you/written about it). I’m really moving up in the world! The problem with one crutch is that if it slips on or gets caught on something, I do not have another crutch to lean on (literally! ha). So, since the time I moved to 1 crutch I’ve almost bit it at least 10 times. Probably more than that, but that’s all I’m admitting to.

I’m also tired of hearing they “don’t order PT for hip replacements”. Seriously people, I NEED like, a trained person to help me regain my ability to not look totally retarded when I walk, as well as plans for the future. I would really prefer to not get my PT tips from Google. I mean, Google misdiagnoses people ALL the time. It’s told me I have about 7 different kinds of cancer, and it told Cara she had cancer AND meningitis. C’mon, Google! You’re about as accurate as the Omaha meteorologists.

Hattie Jr. (aka Pinkie) has made some accomplishments, as of late:

1. Concert
She survived a night of drinking and (sort of ) dancing at the concert of the older version of this man:

Don’t even dare ask me who this is. If you do, our friendship is over.

I digress. The concert was so much fun and we got sweet ass parking (shout out to my parking placard!). I was feeling crappy and crabby that day, but I’m glad we went. I didn’t get my dream front row seats, but row 16 ain’t bad. I sort of wish I’d taken my camera.

2. CWS
She managed to sit through (and actually enjoy) 11 innings of the final CWS game at the ‘Blatt. Not only this, but South Carolina won, making my 23$ “Fear the Cocks” shirt delightfully worth it. Post-game they did a little Rosenblatt video, and the night ended with fireworks and a rendition of Take Me Out to the Ball Game that was sadder than I ever thought possible. We’re talking single trumpet, slow version sadness. It was like Taps for the stadium. The point of the story is it was fun, the weather was amazing, the game lasted about 5.5 hours, and I survived. I also managed not to kill the annoying kids behind me, the drunk man down the row who kept shouting “come on baby, come on baby” at BOTH teams because he was so drunk he didn’t know who he liked anymore, or my friend Andrew with whom I went to the game. All in all, a winning evening!

And here’s my current status:

1. stir crazy
2. crazy
3. sleep deprived
4. walkingly challenged (that’s right, I said walkingly)
5. b-o-r-e-d
6. paranoid (thanks a lot Dr. Google)
7. rinse, repeat, add a thunderstorm for emphasis

(The above entry is proof of how bored I truly am.)

Sadly, while writing this entry I sat with my left foot crossed over my right, and when I was done writing I felt an excruciating pain in my hip. Mother beeeeeeeeeep. Moments like this make me insane. I’m way too young to have to give serious thought to how my feet are positioned when I’m sitting.

PS – Remember how my insurance said they only paid 2 grand for my surgery? False. Just got a notice yesterday that they paid 50 grand. That’s more like it.