9:43 p.m. - 2007-07-24
baby
Good heavens, it really has been ages. Over a week. Yikes.
Let's see. My husband is gone again. I was thinking about this the other day. Maybe I was single all those years partly so I wouldn't be totally at my wit's end with all of this husband traveling. I do ok, and busy myself with reading, drinking with friends, reading, going to various appointments, running various errands, watching The Office DVDs and reading. And drinking with friends. Tonight has been reading and watching the office, so tomorrow should probably be drinking with friends. Little Kel, 6pm. Check.
My sciatica is back in full force. So I decided to call to a different chiropractor. Amy B. and i both go to him and his name is Dr. Hottie, or maybe Dr. McHottie. I'm not sure if Chiropractors should get doctor status, but in any case, the man is attractive. If you're a woman and you have been to the chiropractor, you'll know that having an attractive chiropractor is about 1/8th of a step down from having an attractive gynocologist. Meaning, it's just embarrassing and in my case, makes me want to laugh out loud really hard. I mean this person you barely know who kind of looks like a well-dressed frat boy is groping you in various regions and pushing and popping and leaning and practically crawling on you. Please do not misunderstand what I am saying - I find this to be horrifying. Like, for example, when he, standing near my feet, grabbed my ankle to push it up and back toward my face or whatever, I thought "oh, great, I haven't shaved in a week. Now Hot Doctor is touching my grossly hairy ankle" I mean, why can't it ever be some old lady! I don't know too many old lady chiropractors but there should be more of them.
There are two great things about this chiropractic office, though. One is that it is private enough that you are not out in the open, like it was at my last chiropractor...like, you get on the table, and he pops your back and then you have to get up in front of 7 other people sitting 4 feet away from you, as the table where he works on you is basically in the waiting room. Usually, my shirt has slid halfway up my torso, my pants need pulled up and God knows what else. So, you're away from the masses, but the doorway has no door and there are these "windows" but without glass, that make it feel very non-private which is good given the circumstances which are that I pretty much laugh or suppress laughter during my entire adjustment session. I am telling you, it is just too ridiculous for words. The other great thing is that there is a 15 minute massage involved. By a 24 year old girl named Ashley or something who is probably sleeping with the hot doctor as she well should be. SOMEONE should be. Whoever it is, he is probably telling them all about my horribly hairy ankles. Ugh.
In more important news, I am an aunt! In that BFF way. Iris Claire entered the world healthy, happy and cute as a button on friday. Yay!
