Aselin

Many of you have been asking me what my problem is. Me, being the picture of decorum I am, have refrained from burdening you with my terrible life-challenges. But, since all sixteen of my remaining followers seem deeply concerned about my welfare, I feel compelled to share.

WARNING: The above statement should tip off those of you who have no interest in the personal workings of my life to log off NOW. I will be discussing things that include knives, pain, blood and screaming. Or at least some of those things. If you do not care about my welfare or have a weak stomach LEAVE NOW.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

OK, so many of you have been asking why I have been so remiss in blogging. The biggest reason is I'm finishing up school. I'm so close to finishing I can taste it and I literally spend hours each day reading inane stuff like Faulker and Economics 101. This is neither interesting or funny to the outside world. My ongoing battle with educational bureaucracy has worn even me down to the point that the inanity no longer gets a rise out of me. I think I've turned into one of those third world country people who just stand in a line because its there and it's something to do. Sad but true. So this endeavor has sucked the creative life out of me. (By all means, send your kids to college.)

But also, I have a pain in the butt. Literally. Last week I went to the dermatologist to get little spots and dots checked out. Nothing I had any real concern over, but I was a beach bunny in a previous life, back before sunscreen was invented and we used baby oil and aluminum foil for our sun protection. This being the case I try to be prudent, so I go get checked out. (Stop laughing at the mention of me and prudent in the same sentence.)

So the dermatologist asks me if I have any concerns and I point out a few things, which are deemed normal but marked for freezing. If you've never had anything frozen off, it's pretty cool. So the derm gets out the freezing spray can thingy, which looks like a fancy spray paint can a vandal would use, and primes it...except it won't turn off.

"Oh, dear!" she says, "I'm glad I didn't do that on your FACE!"

Um, yeah, me too. The can keeps spraying and spraying off into the corner of the room while the nurse wrestles with it and can't get it to shut off. You've all been in a doctors office, and the rooms are pretty small. I become a little worried that freezing gas being expelled into the tiny space is going to overpower us and we'll all be found unconscious by the night custodial crew.

My fears were unfounded, and the nurse returned a few minutes later (gas still being expelled by the broken can the Dr. wanted to use on my face) and she froze off a thing on my leg, arm and my temple. Perkily holding the can up like I hold up the whipped cream can for the kids, she says, "Anything else?"

Now, back before I had kids I used to have this little tiny cute flat freckle mole on my backside. If you've had kids, know someone who's had kids or have met a kid you know that kids wreck a lot of stuff. Well, somehow having kids turned this tiny flat freckle of cuteness that sort of made my hiney look like Cindy Crawford - and grew it into a freakish glob of ickness. Because it's on my backside it's out of sight, and no one ever sees my backside, willingly, so it hasn't caused psychological damage outside of my own home. But, here I am in the office being asked if I have "anything else?"

I show her the mole and she gasps in horror. Just kidding, but she did say, "Well, there's nothing wrong with it, but it's easy to remove so why don't we take it off." I ask a few questions about recovery time and she says, no big deal, a few days and I won't feel a thing.

Let me just state for the record: Doctors are liars.

I have this thing cut off my butt - in the glamorous position, face down on the table, pants around my ankles, apologizing to the nurse that it is on my butt in the first place. She laughs and says, "Honey, this is nothing." The doctor comes in, cuts it off and I'm good to go. No big deal. UNTIL THE LIDOCAINE WEARS OFF!

I have injured body parts before, broken a rib - and the pain made me amazed at how often I breathe. Broken my wrist - and was amazed at how much I use my hand. For the record: I had no idea how much I sat down. Here I am, over a week later and I still have this enormous pain in my butt. I'm fine if I'm standing, but man, I am one lazy person: I sit a LOT!

So there you have it. More information than you ever wanted to know about why my blogging has been so dull. I'm being "educated" and my butt hurts.

Please send well wishes, food and flowers to my residence.