An Ode to Wal-Mart

My love picked out a birthday gift,
For me to have, my heart would it lift.
We went online
and both spent some time
and ordered what I wanted.

A camera is what was my present,
and what luck, it came with a pheasant.
Ok, I lied, no pheasant included.
But something else, for sure,
I would not be deluded.

Options, it said. You choose your bag.
Here are four choices, please don't lag.
Pick bag one or two or three or four,
you need a place for your camera to store.

So I chose bag one as it seemed nice.
I made my decision, I didn't think twice.
The camera arrived, and right on time too,
but I waited and waited,
the bag was in route.

At least that is what UPS said,
as did USPS, who'd taken the shipment instead.
Then Wal-Mart claimed the order'd been lost,
so they promised to send me a replacement, at cost.

Overnight, it would come,
to compensate for my time.
No charge for this service,
not even a dime.

Again I waited, less patient than before.
Every day I would look,
would it come to my door?
Another week went by, and no bag did arrive.
I was mad; I was sad; then went into overdrive.

Tried to talk to a human when I called Wal-Mart again,
I was transferred so often, my head started to spin.
I finally got a person and the answer I sought,
A new bag would be sent, this time,
so I thought...

But a bag did arrive, not three days later.
Almost two months had since passed,
but I was not yet a hater.

I opened the box, pulled the plastic apart,
saw my camera bag nestled, oh bestill my heart.
My camera I ran to, picked it up with great need.
I wanted it home, in its bag, and with speed
I unzippered the bag and wouldn't you know it?
The damn bag was too small.
I almost did vomit.

Wal-Mart will not remedy their error.
I warn you, fair shoppers,
shop there with terror.
I hate that damn place,
avoid it, I will.

To offer an item as a part of a bundle,
one would think it would fit,
would one not? Would one wonder?
A good deal comes at a cost, I now know.
I hate you damn Wal-Mart.
Go suck a toe.

The Jersey Devil...

So here is the story of the Jersey Devil, thanks to Wikipedia.

The Jersey Devil is a legendary creature or cryptid said to inhabit the Pine Barrens of Southern New Jersey, United States. The creature is often described as a flying biped with hooves, but there are many variations.

Most accounts of the Jersey Devil legend attribute the creature to a "Mother Leeds", a supposed witch, although the tale has many variations. According to one version, she invoked the devil by saying "let it be the devil" while giving birth to her 13th child, and when the baby was born it was named Lucas, it either immediately or soon afterward transformed into a devil-like creature and flew off into the surrounding pines.

During the week of January 16 through 23, 1909, hundreds of people reported encounters with the Jersey Devil. Newspapers of the time named it "Phenomenal Week" and the public reaction has been called the Devil's "most infamous spree." Reports initially concerned unidentified footprints in the snow, but soon sightings of creatures resembling the Jersey Devil were being reported throughout South Jersey and as far away as Philadelphia and Delaware.  The widespread newspaper coverage led to a panic throughout the Delaware Valleyprompting a number of schools to close and workers to stay home.  Among alleged encounters publicized that week were an attack on a trolley-car full of passengers in Haddon Heights and an attack on a social club in Camden.Police in Camden and Bristol, Pennsylvania supposedly fired on the creature to no effect.

And what does the Jersey Devil look like?

It is about three feet and half high, with a head like a collie dog anda face like a horse. It has a long neck, wings about two feet long, andits back legs are like those of a crane, and it has horse's hooves.It walks on its back legs and holds up two short front legs with pawson them. 

Since I've been laid up after my surgery, I've been indulging in some of my guilty pleasures.  Namely Jerseylicious, The Real Housewives of New Jersey and The Jersey Shore.  All of those crazy ladies got me to thinking about baked ziti  the Jersey Devil.  I think Snookie might be the Jersey Devil.  So, in honor of Halloween and because I've already had a baked Italian dish this week, I wanted to pay tribute to New Jersey in my own way.

I present to you:

THE JERSEY DEVIL MEATLOAF.

Mmmm.  Evil meatloaf.

FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY

WARNING.  THIS BLOG CONTAINS IMAGES THAT MIGHT BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME READERS.  VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.  SERIOUSLY, YOU MIGHT THROW UP.  POOP. NO, YOU WON'T THROW UP POOP.  JUST THROW UP THROW UP.

I am serious.  If you have a weak disposition, or are sensitive to eewy things, do not read on.  What you will see will give you nightmares.  Or maybe just some weird dreams.

And with those strenuous warnings, without further ado, scroll down to see my herniated disc.

Harold the Hernia

It is big.  The spinal column, I've been told, is only about 1" in diameter.  My hernia was bigger.  Now it is bigger sitting on some table somewhere.  The doctor wouldn't let me take Hernia Harold home.  I planned to give him a home in a jar with googly eyes glued on.  Maybe some hair too.  Like a teratoma. Although I couldn't bring him home, I sure am glad Hernia Harold has found a new place to live.  All I can say is that he'd better not come back. Bitch ass.

Under the K-nife.

So ladies and gentlemen.  Tomorrow I go under the k-nife.  In an attempt to alleviate my surgery fears, I decided to draw my vision of the surgery.  I can only hope it goes so well.  For your viewing pleasure, I present "Lauren's Surgery." I will post sometime after surgery.  To let you know whether my vision came true.

One of those days...

It has been one of those days.

Today was my very first experience with a prescribed narcotic to prevent pain (well, second experience...my first was about 7 years ago when I got some drugs to take after the removal of my wisdom teeth).  This time, the meds are for pain before surgery.  I have to have surgery next week for a herniated disc and between now and then, I can't take the Advil that I've been reliant on for the last months.  Something about the Advil being a blood thinner and how that's not good before you get cut by a knife.  In any event, I've been taking hydrocodone for about 6 hours.  And it feels fuzzy.  I feel fuzzy.  I hate taking drugs period and I thought I could handle the pain without any meds.  I'm tough.  I birthed a baby without drugs.  What's a little herniated disc?  IT IS WORSE than childbirth.  By far.  So I have found my limit.  It is the herniated disc.  And I need drugs.

The pain and subsequent drugs made the day "one of those days".  But wait, there's more...

Before I went to work today I put on some black leggings.  I wanted to wear my black leggings so I put them on.  Nothing strange there, right? Well I wore the leggings on Sunday and I'd done some laundry since then, so when I pulled the leggings out of the closet, I just assumed they were the ones I'd worn and washed.  So I get to work and I'm thinking, "Gee, these leggings seem pretty stretched out." The were all bunchy around my knees and butt.  But after acknowledging the unusual stretchiness, I put it out of my mind.  Until I went to pee.  When I pulled down my leggings to use the toilet (don't think about that too much), I realized why the leggings were feeling odd.  Turns out they were not my leggings but some black long underwear I'd bought for a ski trip two years ago.  So yea.  I was wearing long underwear instead of pants.  And I'm a lawyer.  In an office.  Where I see people.  Some of whom are clients.  And that was before things got fuzzy from the drugs.

It's just been one of those days.

My biggest fears.

Some people have labeled me paranoid.  Irrational.  Bat-shit crazy.  Since having a baby, my fears seem to have quadrupled or quadbillioned.  Growing up, my biggest fear was being stabbed in the foot with a fork.  Oh how things have changed. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I am still scared of being stabbed in the foot with any implement, be it a fork or a knife or even being attacked with a cheese grater.  Until very recently, as in last year recently, I could not face a pedicure.I have since overcome my fear of pedicures, but I still have some odd fears. 

I have some perfectly rational fears, like being in a plane crash, or being buried alive or losing my child.  I cannot bring myself to really go into the things I think about in regards to my child because anything I write would be too horrific to have to think about so I am going to just not write it. But I am more aware of my mortality and the mortality of those I love.  And it scares the shit out of me.

 I am afraid of nuclear holocost and having to eat people.  I am in the process of storing food and making a "go bag."  What foods am I storing, you ask? Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix and rotini.  Why these foods? Because I don't think things through and just buy things that are cheap and easy to make.  But Lauren, what if you don't have eggs or clean water after said nuclear holocost? What then?  I don't know.  But I will have muffin mix.

Now, the fear that inspired this blog post.  Last week I was in Macy's with my sister.  If you know us, you know that we are very, very tall.  When we go out together, or when I go anywhere with my husband, or any member of his family or any member of my family, it is like the tall freakshow comes to town.  We are all over 6', with the exception of my mother who is only 5'9 or so.  We don't notice it when we are together in private but when we go out, invariably there are hushed wispers about the height of our group.  When I go out alone, someone somewhere will comment about how tall I am.  Sometimes it is a comment or a question to my face, like "Oh my goodness,  you are so tall.  Do you play basketball/volleyball?" or "Are you a model" or "Where on earth do you find pants?"  While it is sometimes flattering, I go through times where I am terribly self-conscious about it.  A lot of times, I hear someone whisper right behind me "Oh my gosh...did you see that girl? She is so tall!" I could have it waaaaay worse but each person has their own struggles. This is one of mine.

Anyway, back to Macy's.  My sister an I were walking through the store and I just kept seeing tall women everywhere.  EVERYWHERE.  And believe me.  I notice tall people.  The store was just full of women even taller than me. Since I was with my tall sister, we were attracting attention but I just could not believe how many other tall women were out.  So as we approached the jewelry counter, I saw these two tall women looking at the goods.  They were both in heels and both were taller than me and my sister.  I was about to ask my sister if I looked as freakishly tall as the two women I was staring at (I feel compelled to ask whomever I am with if I am as tall as whatever tall person I see) when they both turned around to talk to the clerk.  The two women were two MEN.  In drag.  They still had facial hair.  They weren't even trying. I have no problems or issues about guys who dress in drag, or transvestites or transgendered anyone.

But I certainly am terrified of being confused as one.

That is one of my biggest fears.  So now you know.