Boy, do I feel like a schmuck

I went to lunch with several co-workers today. We decided to skip our usual neighborhood places and head downtown to Scotty's Brewhouse. I love the Brewhouse -- even when I'm not having brew, which is most of the time. Fried pickles. YUM. Great lo-cal options. Even better "regular options."

Today, I ordered the half buffalo chicken wrap with carrots and celery on the side. The wrap came with the mild mo'fo sauce. I can't imagine what the hawt mo'fo sauce must be like, because my mouth was feeling pretty fiery after the first two bites. (I think I drank a whole pitcher of water by myself.) Please understand, this wrap was GOOD, but spicy.

So as the table next to us was wrapping up, the server brought their checks and the traditional box of Red Hots for each Scotty's customer. Red Hots did not seem to be a great follow-up to my spicy lunch, so I got to thinking that Lemonheads would be a great after-meal treat.

Not often one to keep my opinions to myself, I pulled out my phone and tweeted:

I move that @brewhouse switches from Redhots to Lemonheads. Anyone second the motion? @BgKahuna @kristina64 @sssemester? 

(All great tweeps to follow, btw.)

Here's where the schmuckishness comes in.

Before I got back to my office, I had a direct message from @brewhouse -- Scotty Wise, THE Scotty in Scotty's Brewhouse.

Red hots are there to memorialize my grandmother (passed away many years ago) as she put them in my applesauce to get me to eat it, so they won't be leaving anytime soon...sorry.

Please Scotty, you have to believe that I would never interfere with the memory of anyone's Grandma. Honestly, I'm not that big of a schmuck. At least not on purpose. What's worse is that I've pulled several friends into schmuckdom with me. There are at least five people on Twitter now calling for Scotty to move away from the Red Hots. What have I done?!

I hope I haven't gotten myself banned from Scotty's, even if they don't offer Lemonheads.

Happy 411 Day

Today is April 11. That makes it Happy Information Day. Get it, 411? So in honor of this mockiday, I thought I'd share some random bits of information that may come in handy if you are ever on Jeopardy or in a hot game of Trivial Pursuit. (Does anyone still play that?)

• The human head weighs 8 pounds. (Thanks, cute kid in Jerry Maguire.)
• The world's only corn palace is in Mitchell, South Dakota.
• The biggest Lego set made is the Taj Mahal set, which contains 5,922 bricks.
• Blue is the most popular Crayola crayon color.
• On May 9, 1914 President Woodrow Wilson issued a proclamation declaring the first national Mother's Day as a day for American citizens to show the flag in honor of those mothers whose sons had died in war.
• George Washington never really had wooden teeth. He did have dentures carved of hippopotamus ivory, however.
• The most popular flavor of Ben & Jerry's ice cream is Cherry Garcia.
• Elton John's real name is Reginald Kenneth Dwight. Queen Latifah's is Dana Elaine Owens.
• It takes 850 peanuts to make an 18-ounce jar of peanut butter.
• The African elephant has a gestation period of 660 to 760 days. (I would be homicidal.)
• Kahuna is Hawaiian for "expert chicken eater."
• The Death Star in Star Wars had a diameter of 120 kilometers or 75 miles. (That one's for you, honey.)
• The average bra size in America is 36C. (There I go again, being above average.)
• Monks can be credited with inventing champagne, pretzels, the mechanical clock and tennis.
• Coconuts kill more people in the world than sharks do. Approximately 150 people are killed each year by coconuts.
• Months that begin on a Sunday will always have a Friday the 13th.
• The electric chair was invented by a dentist. (This explains so much...)
• Sony's first product was a rice cooker and Nintendo started out as a playing card manufacturer.
• The fear of frogs is called ranidaphobia.
• 
  

Black Jelly Bean Rescue Society

It happens every year at this time.

Candy lovers young and old tear through their Easter baskets, scarfing down Reese's peanut butter eggs and marshmallow Peeps. They methodically dismember chocolate rabbits and quickly eat the evidence. Fistfuls of Robin's Eggs are followed by quick pops of jelly beans. Until...

...only the lowly black jelly beans are in the bottom of the basket, left to sit and harden over a year's time until they are tossed when the Easter baskets are pulled out of storage again. That's if they are lucky.

The really unlucky black jelly beans are ridiculed and publicly humiliated.

"Ewww! I hate black jelly beans!"

"Those are so disgusting!"

I, for one, can no longer sit idly by, watching abuse heaped upon these poor stepchildren of the confectionary world. So I'm doing something about it.

I hereby announce the opening of the Black Jelly Bean Rescue Society (BJBRS - pronounced "bee-jee-bers). My Easter basket is open as a repository for all the unwanted, unloved, black licorice-flavored pellets.

The mission of BJBRS is to help these delicious bits of Easter candy realize their true potential: to bring mouth-watering joy to those who will consume them. Each black jelly bean surrendered to BJBRS will be stroked and complimented and loved.

"Look at you and your beautiful, shiny black coat."

"Well, don't you just smell delicious this morning."

And upon eating, "Mmmmmm! You taste sooooo good! I love you."

I promise a well-loved and dignified fate for every black jelly bean entrusted to me.

No questions will be asked of those who surrender their black jelly beans to BJBRS. I would rather you give them a loving end than cast them off to the bottom of the waste basket or damage their delicate psyches with hurtful words.

Please package them carefully in sandwich baggies, so as to avoid losing any to random sidewalks or sentencing them to a life under the front seat of the car. Should you have entire pre-packaged bags of black jelly beans (and if you hate them so, I can only believe you purchased them with evil in mind), please let me know in advance so I can be sure to have enough black jelly bean-loving foster homes prepared to accept them.

Together, we can end the humiliation and hatred against the gelee haricot de noir -- the black jelly bean.

Good Friday Fragments

Hello friends! It's Good Friday and despite the sadness and solemnity of the day, it does indeed feel good.

Last night was my favorite Mass of the year, Holy Thursday. The church was full and so many of the people I love were there. Charlie was an altar server. I was so proud to watch him serving and taking part in the extra rituals of Holy Thursday. Annie volunteered to strip the sanctuary and the altar at the end of Mass, preparing it for the starkness of Good Friday. And Robbie was so well behaved. It was such a warm experience.

***

After church yesterday, prayers were answered. God is good. That's all I have to say about that.

***

Annie is coming to the end of her Spring Break. Yesterday I took her driving in an empty parking lot. Max speed = 4 miles an hour. I kept trying to get her to go at least 10. I think Mike is going to be her primary driving teacher. But she wants you to know that she did a great job parking. She also applied for her first job. Holy cow, who is this teenager and what did she do with my little girl?

***

Showing a little of my spelling snob here, but I had to snap this at McD's during my morning Diet Coke run yesterday.

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I'm a week beyond my carpal tunnel surgery and all I can say is what the heck was I waiting for?! This has been so easy.. My hand a little tender sometimes and easily fatigued if it's not wrapped or in a splint. But bring on the next one. My left hand in comparison feels so fat and numb. I don't know if it's worse because I'm using the left hand more to compensate for the right or because the difference between the two is so marked. I'm thinking I'll have the left one done in early May.

***

If you store your underwear like this, I'm afraid we can't be friends. Who stands their underwear up? And how do you get it to stay that way?

***

I have it on good authority that the Easter Bunny has Reese's peanut butter eggs ready to drop in our baskets. That, Peeps and black jelly beans will make Easter complete. And oh yeah, the resurrection of Christ.

Have a blessed Easter. Now go over to Mrs. 4444s, hostess of Friday Fragments, and wish her the same.

The Liar's Club

The sight of my bandaged hand seems to invite a lot of concerned and curious inquiries as to what happened to me. The answer -- carpal tunnel surgery -- is kind of boring and getting a little monotonous. So I thought maybe I should come up with some answers that are a little more colorful and interesting.

See how these grab you.

1. Someone tried to take the last Diet Coke, so I punched him.
2. We were at the zoo and I got too close to the tiger cage just before feeding time.
3. I'm wrapping my hand right hand in solidarity with the lefties of the world.
4. I was high-fiving Robbie. The kid doesn't know his own strength.
5. Tattoo gone wrong.
6. My kids aren't buying "Mommy's legs are broken" anymore.
7. It's an old Facebook injury.
8. It's a new diet technique. Everything I put on the fork or spoon falls off.
9. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.
10. Oh nothing. I just like the attention.

Do you have any others that I should add to my repertoire?

This

* Does not really hurt.

* Is a little sore.

* Causes me to drop food down the front of my shirt.

* Invites the "what happened" question from friends and strangers alike.

* Was super fast and easy.

* Itches like the devil.

There are worse things. Round 2 coming in early May.

Under the knife

I wanted to blog tonight because bright and early tomorrow morning I'll be going under the knife to have the first of two surgeries for carpal tunnel syndrome. So I figure it might be a few days before I can comfortably type again.

It's really more like a procedure than a surgery. I'll be awake for the whole thing. They'll just numb my wrist and hand with a local anesthetic. I'm really hoping I get to be laying down for it. I don't mind being awake (I don't think), but I don't really want to watch.

I was supposed have this surgery done 8 years ago, but I canceled it. Robbie was only a year old then and still required plenty of lifting and maneuvering. So I opted out and have just dealt with it for the past 8 years and 3 months. My hands stopped hurting from the carpal tunnel syndrome about 6 years ago. Now they are just in a constant state of numbness.

Lately though, I've been getting these electric shock kind of feelings shooting across my palms when I try to grab something. And my grip is getting worse. More than one dropped plate of food can attest to that. (Now there's a weight loss idea!)

My first thought was to give chiropractic treatments a try. The chiropractor was working with me using this Graston technique to try to relieve the pressure off my carpal tunnel nerves. Think big heavy butter knives brushing across the forearms and wrists. It felt really good. Then after the first treatment, it felt like my arm bones were made of jello. The second treatment didn't really have much effect at all.

In the meantime, I talked to a doctor friend of mine who does EMG nerve testing as part of his practice. So I made an appointment to have him give me the EMG to see just how bad my carpal tunnel problem is. I told him about the Graston technique. He was familiar with it and said it can be effective for some people.

That was before he hooked me up and shocked my nerves, only to find out they weren't as shocked as they should have been. Bob told me that he's never seen a worse EMG. What? I can't help it that I'm an overachiever. According to Dr. Bob, the only solution for successfully treating my carpal tunnel is surgery. So he referred me to the same surgeon who was supposed to my surgery 8 years ago.

Which brings me to tomorrow. I'm envisioning a quick slice and snip and sew-'er-up and I'll be on my way. I plan to lay low for 24 hours, keep a steady supply of ibuprofen and Tylenol flowing, and play "Mommy's legs are broken: The carpal tunnel version." 

I really wanted to have both hands done at the same time. Get it over with and all that. The surgeon said they don't recommend it and moved on. So when I was left with the physician assistant to schedule the surgery, I asked her about it. "Is it really so unheard of to do both hands at a time? I think I'd really like to do it that way."

To which the PA responded, "Well, how do you feel about someone else wiping your butt?"

Ahhh...got it. One hand at a time, will be fine, thank you.

So the first one is tomorrow morning. Then in about 3 weeks, I'll have the second one done. In the meantime, I might have to find a talk to text program so I can keep up with the blog and Facebook. Or maybe I'll have one of my kids take dictation.

But one thing is for sure. I'll be wiping my own butt.