Back Cuts Only

For all those out there that have waited in line at bars we are all aware of the following situation... You get to a bar and there is a long line...approximately a 30minute wait. You are waiting and waiting. You and a friend or friends take a few more steps closer to the entrance. You see five people walking up and stop to talk with the group in front of you. They are obviously trying to cut the line. This is one of my worst pet peeves. They are usually standing in a way that they can see you and do the eye all the way to the right deal to see if you are looking at them and how you are reacting. "Should I make my move now? Will they notice that I'm cutting in front of them? Will they say something?" They avoid looking at you at all costs and awkwardly finally face forward as they inch closer and closer to their friends to blend into the line. The bigger the group trying to cut the line the more awkward it is. The absolute worst is when a huge group walks up and stands next to you as if it isn't obvious they weren't in the orginial line. Do you think you are going to cut in front of me? All I can offer is back cuts...sorry.

Last weekend I was in Hoboken waiting in line for The Shannon with my sister. Thankfully it wasn't as cold as we thought it would be. The worst part of the line was that we knew the bar wasn't full yet, they just wanted the place to look like a happening spot from the outside. There were these really obnoxious girls in front of us and not only were they talking really loud but they were yelling and screeching for no reason. "OMG i'm at a bar I'm like the best thing ever" One of the girls was wearing stur-up leggings...note to self never be caught dead in those, the last time I wore them was in 4th grade with my hot pink Limited too sweater. Anyway the highlight of my night was when the bouncer called them barnyard animals and told them to be quiet. They got mad and left the line. The sis and I took a few steps closer to the bar. Good Deal.

"If I'm too good for him, why am I not with him..."

One of my favorite movie quotes is from Clueless when Brittany Murphy's character Tye has been dumped by popular rich guy Elton. "If I'm too good for him, why am I not with him." It seems to sum up my dating life in a nutshell. I had a bf in high school, went on some dates in college without any significant relationship, and unfortunately have had those random I'm drunk, you're drunk, let's make-out at the bar situations. I'm not even going to touch upon the 4am, "what's up?" texts...that's for a whole other entry. Anyway, since my last semester of college I have dated a few guys and whenever they didn't work out the reaction was always "you are too good for them, they didn't deserve you." Yes, this may be true and brings a brief smile to my face but unfortunately doesn't make me feel any better about the I was just dumped situation.

I just got out of a relationship for about six months and as you can probably already tell...he ended it. Things hadn't been right for weeks and I probably should have ended it myself but I let it go thinking things would be ok. I guess he was feeling the same way. As he put it "I don't feel like this is going anyway." Code for...I am lazy, don't want to make an effect and would rather go drink and get stupid with my buddies than spend time with you. "OK" I said as my eyes start to fill up and my voice started to shake. YES, I started to cry. To sum up an hour conversation on the phone (way to wimp out and tell me this on the phone at 11pm, right before I was going to bed) he ended with "It's me not you and I'm still here, we will still hang out, I'll talk to you tomorrow." I said ok, goodnight and got off the phone. I cried the rest of the night and have been on and off with being upset/angry about the situation. THe on-going thoughts in my head.. "I wonder what he is doing now...what could I have done to prevent him from ending things...is he thinking about me...is there another girl...blah blah blah." I haven't texted him or contacted him which I am actually very proud of. I feel much better and if I could re-do the convo this is how it would go.. "Oh you really feel that way? Ok well no need to feel bad or pity me fucker,I can't be friends with you right now so let's not hang out and thanks for actually doing me a favor because now I can wear all my heels again." (He is 5'8 and I am 5'9)

Venturing out into the single world again...here goes nothing.

Colts Neck not Kentucky

This morning I had my annual gynocologist appointment which is located in Colts Neck. My appointment was scheduled for 9:30am and I didn't get called until 10:30. I am one to fall asleep at anytime or anywhere so it didn't help my situation that I had yet to have my morning intake of coffee and the seats in the office were big comfy couches. I started to feel my eyes get heavy when I realized I did not want to be "that girl." So to keep myself amused and awae I stared at the other patients waiting, trying to figure out what they were in for. The large big bellies gave that away real quick. I was getting bored again when a woman who looked about 7 months pregnant and her daughter who couldn't have been more than 2 years old came strolling in. Now I am not a huge fan of kids but I try to give them the benefit of the doubt before I despise them. This particular girl was somewhat cute and not too obnoxious but had short hair with long curls in the back. I instantly text my sister about the mullet situation. She replies "Haha a mullet at two is no way to start life." I would tend to agree. Poor Girl.

"Mommy, Can I play with my plush poo & pee please?"

I have a fraternal twin sister named Emily and as different as we may look the one thing we have always had in common is our sense of humor. What we find funny an average joe may have found funny when they were five years old. For instance, people slipping and falling down will never once get old and when I randomly utter the word "poop" to Emily I instantly hear giggles. It doesn't matter what context it is used in.

About two months ago I come home and go to drop some things off in my room and I see something sitting on my pillow. As I take a closer look it is a pamphlet with the words pee & poo across the top and two plush looking toys. One is bright yellow in the shape of a tear drop and one a medium brown color with eyes. I hesitated for a second and then started laughing and ran downstairs to see where she might have found such a disturbing thing. Emily had gone to a trade show and this was produced by a Swedish vendor.

Now I understand that every country has its own culture but pee & poo toys??? Are they serious? What kind of message does that send children? That it's ok to play with your poo & pee....hmmm there's something very unsettling about this. I can't imagine parents going to tell their kids to go play with their poo & pee dolls. This may lead to some confusion amongst the young folk in today's society. Are kids expected to name these toys like Patti the poop? Do you tell your kids to wash their hands after playing with the dolls? I don't know where this blog is going but I wanted to express my opinion and the fact that when I googled pee & poo dolls today there were over 100 links!

So I have decided to start a blog…why I am still not sure. I don’t think I’m funny. I don’t expect to sounds smart or sophicated but I do enjoy writing and never get around to writing enough unless it is a press release at work. So here goes nothing….

I thought about how to start my first blog and figured I would start it with what has been affecting my life the most lately. THE PUMP. For those that don't know, the PUMP administers insulin without the use of shots every 6 hours. My doctor calls it the Rolls Royce of diabetes technology. Two years of saying no because I didn't want to be wired to something all the time I jumped on the bandwagon. Backtracking for a second....I was diagnosed with diabetes on May 29, 2005 at the age of 21. After three months of waiting to see the endrocronogist I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes which requires daily insulin shots.

The rest of the detailed somewhat depressing story is for another day. Anyhoo....

I am a week into using my insulin pump and I have already grown an attachment (no pun intended) to this thing that resembles a purple beeper. Right now it is attached to my lower back. The attachment is a small round circular adhesive spot that hooks to the tubing which administers the insulin. I feel like I am 12 years old again when giga pets were the popular thing to have and if you didn’t take care of them they would beep at you and remind you something was wrong. My pump does that. I am waiting for it to start talking to me like KITT on Night Rider. "HELLLOOO Lynsey check your blood glucose. Oooo Blood sugar is low. Go have a snack. Have a nice day."

Although the thought of having this thing attached to me 24/7 stressed me out it haven't been as bad as I expected and has already stabilized my sugar levels better than they have been in two years. I have already been called the bionic woman by a co-worker and asked how my robot was doing by the guy I am dating. I call him VB.

I will have updates about my so called robot and one day may want to throw it across the room if it doesn't cooperate but for now I don't think I will dump the pump. My bed is calling me. Good night.