First off, let me apologize.
I've been a negligent social networker lately.
I've been a terrible blogger, a laggard in both my writing and blog visiting. I've been absent from Facebook and Twitter. I've fallen down when it comes to the social networking scene. And I can only say I'm sorry and give you a semi-plausible explanation.
I've been a vagabond all summer. Just drifting through the hot, sticky months from one place to another, barely through my front door before I turn around and leave again.
My dogs now hang their heads in sadness when the suitcase comes out, knowing that I'll be leaving them again.
And in the precious little time I've had at home, my life has been filled with company and preparing for the new school days and doctor's appointments and just plain, catching up.
My baby is in the process of getting braces. Last week it was the dreaded, hours-long first appointment where the orthodontist chats with us about the responsibility of braces and the whole process of braces and why we wear them and how they work and bla, bla, bla and after that super fun chat, we watch an outdated video with actors in wickedly bad clothes and big, pouffy perms and then molds are taken and photos and then, just when I'm about to scream, "Can we just put the damn wires on already? This is our 3rd time at the rodeo! We KNOW the whole deal!"
Finally, just when I'm about to lose my frozen smile and explode on our sweet, little orthodontist, the spacers are put in.
She has a lot of spacers and her tender, still baby cheeks are swollen but I have made it better with an unlimited amount of smoothies and Steak and Shake milkshakes. With extra whipped cream.
This week, she'll get her braces.
Along with that, I've had my own share of the fun at the doctors.
I am the original freckle face girl. And not just on my face, every part of my body is dotted with freckles and spots.
My doctor has her work cut out for her when it comes to checking my dot to dot body.
Two moles on my regular checkup were biopsied and came back to be the bad kind.
Not the really bad kind as in melanoma. But just the bad kind that can lead to the super bad M kind.
So, moles were removed along with borders around the moles and since my doc took a border the size of a small canyon, there are now stitches.
On my kneecap.
Which has led to a ban on working out, since the stitches are on . . . did I tell you? My kneecap.
And this has led to one crabby mama because I am seriously addicted to endorphins. And I don't like it when things on my body start to jiggle.
And things are jiggling these days, like a jello salad.
And now, yesterday, I cracked my implant in half.
No, not that kind of implant.
I can only imagine how brutal that would be on a ta-ta.
And for the record, I don't have those kinds of implants.
These sag bags are all mine.
I'm talking about one of the implants in my mouth.
There I was, chewing on an innocuous piece of soft bread, when I heard this sickening crack.
Me, the girl with Donald Trump kind of money in her mouth.
Me, the flossing queen of the world.
Me the girl who never, ever misses a six-month checkup and brushes her teeth so many times a day, it may or may not be a fixation.
Me, with the crap ass teeth.
I have no idea what happened. I mean it was bread and not even the day old kind.
I can't look in my mouth, because that sort of breakage freaks me out.
But last night, while I was gingerly brushing my teeth on that side, a chunk of tooth, fake tooth, but tooth still the same, came out of my mouth.
So today, I am like an 80-year-old woman, filling up my day with medical appointments.
I get my stitches, the ones that are on my kneecap, out this afternoon, along with the results of my biopsy to make sure they got all the bad cells and then I shoot on over to my dentist, so we can place a few more gold bars in my mouth.
My life is one big train ride of glamour.
And we've also got a birthday day around these parts this week.
My Tori girl turns 17.
And birthdays in our house are a big deal. I've always started my girls' birthdays off by waking them with a crazily decorated Funfetti cake, because there is nothing better than Funfetti cake, topped off with sparkler candles. And then there are presents and celebration and a lovely dinner at the place of their choosing.
And I haven't even bought the sparkler candles, much less the birthday presents.
And this is our last, glorious week before school begins.
So we're trying to do things like swim and watch old movies and sleep until our bodies say it's time to wake up in these last few days of languorous summer.
And then there's the biggest AND of all.
I have finished my last final proof of my novel.
All that's left is a new query to fit my revisions and Off. I. Go.
Jumping off the scariest cliff of my life.
I need breathing space to write my query. Uninhibited time and a clear mind and that might not come until next week when, with a sorrowful heart, I watch my girls head off to school, again.
Another summer that flew by.
One less year with them here, still nestled around me.
But next week will bring back the quiet. And I will confess, I am looking forward to those hours between drop off and pick up that are selfishly all mine.
I just wanted to explain myself and my blank wall of silence.
I haven't forgotten any of you.
In fact, I miss you all so much.
We will be settling down next week. And I promise, I'll give you my Part II story then.
But until then, please accept my apologies.
I wish I could give you all a fruit basket as a peace offering.
Because there's nothing like some fresh pineapple to make you think, "Alright, I can forgive that lazy slut with this kind of sweetness dancing around in my mouth."
But since I don't think I could round up enough pineapple for that kind of huge apology and since I'm terrible at basket wrapping, we'll just have to settle for a great big hug and a kiss from me across these virtual miles and my big, fat, I'M SO SORRY!
Deal? I'll be back next week with downloads and stories.
Posted by Joann Mannix at 12:38 PM