Hey Keeper Where Ya Been?

Keeper: Hey Jodi where ya been?

J: Inside a cardboard box!

Keeper: Really, a cardboard box?

J: Well not actually, I am speaking in figurative term. You see since May I have been packing boxes for the move from school.

Keeper: School? Move?

J: Ya, you know the elementary school has closed up shop and is moving to a new location, with a new name. The new school is absolutely bee-u-tee-ful!

Keeper: So you are going to the new school?

J: Nope I am staying at the old homestead, as it transitions back to into a middle school, after twenty plus years. I am taking a new position.

Keeper: Really, how exciting!

J: I am excited. I have been training, lots. Training so much my new books I bought to read this summer are on the shelf collecting dust.

Keeper: Maybe you can read them on vacation?

J: Yes! That sounds like a plan. Reading under a canopy of trees and singing birds.

Keeper: You taking the house on wheels for that vacation?

J: Yep. King Ralph thought for a minute about not doing so, then the girls said to him "Dad, noooooo! being in the camper is what makes us a family."

Keeper: Wow, that is something.

J: I know, it is like when we go in the camper and take squat in the middle of nature so remote that there is no cell service, no lap tops, no TV....  We connect, like the family that we are. We laugh. We play board games. We play cards. We hike and hike and hike. I am about as excited for vacation as I am for my job.

Keeper: Not to change the subject but what about the BWFs?

J: Oh I know, we cried when our placements were announced. It is hard leaving old friends.

Keeper: You can make new friends.

J: I know...make new friends but keep the old.

Keeper: You're getting all old school Girl Scout leader on me there.

J: LOL

J: Hey I don't mean to end our little conversation, but I have to smell cardboard and packing tape again tomorrow morning...and Friday...and at the old homestead, turned new homestead on Monday. A girl needs her rest to lift boxes and ripe packing tape.

Keeper: Night. Hey, don't stay away so long.

J: Ok. I promise!

(If I never smell the scent of fresh cardboard boxes or hear the sound of packing tape ripping I will live happily ever after!)     

"Sometimes We Take It Out in Public. Not Often"

Keeper: Hey Jo it's been a while since we talked.

J: I know Keeper, I've been to busy to talk to myself.

Keeper: What's with the title of this blog entry?

J: Oh you can thank my niece for that, that is how she titled the picture album on her Facebook of our family fun, or as Uncle Dan called it in his Flip Video he sent out, dysfunctional family fun.

Keeper: so Jo where did you "take it out in public" to?

J: well Keeper we first had a family BBQ where we feasted...no we pigged out and washed it all down with a couple bottles of wine. Then we got to talking bowling.

Keeper: Bowling?

J: Yes bowling.

Keeper: what does one talk when they talk bowling?

J: Well I told cousin about the time I bowled a nine.

Keeper: did you say nine?

J: Yes, nine, single digit score. I had three beers and I don't drink beer. So I blame it on the beer.

Keeper: Really, beer?

J: Yes and I am sticking to that story. It drew utter amazement from cousin because you see he is KingPin. He has a ring to prove it. Did you know if you bowl a perfect game, a 300, you get a ring--like KingPin? Anyway we decided we should all go bowling.

Keeper: Wow Keeper you have Santa and KingPin all in one family?

J: I guess I married well, hehehe. They are all inherited from King Ralph. I didn't bring much color or humor to the marriage just the dual alarm clock. Oh wait I have a picture of niece, M and KingPin at the Show Me Lanes last night.

Keeper: So did you pull another nine?

J: No I did not.

Keeper: Prove it.

J: Well I can. See. I bowled an 87 and I got a strike on the first frame to boot.

Keeper: Looks like King Ralph whipped your ass on the lanes.

J: Ya he did, but KingPin whipped his ass on the other lane.

Keeper: So what happens when you take it out in public?

J: We get all crazy. We go all high fiving each other from strikes and spares.

and modeling pretty bowling balls

Keeper: How long did this public display of DFF go on?

J: Till 10pm. By that time we all smelled like the bowling alley ash trays. And, King Ralph's tennis elbow started to act up.

Keeper: I think you and the cousins should take your love out in the public more often.

J: I think we are going to do that. Maybe form a family bowling league team.

An Under Anestethic Conversation with Myself

While under [anesthetic] I had a bit of time to strike up a conversation with myself.

keeper: Hey Jo how you feeling

Jo: pretty relaxed

keeper: I know, the lengths we woman will go to get a good nap

Jo: I am not exactly sure this is the kind of nap I was looking for

keeper: are you still thinking about how the nurse who preregistered you suggested you bring along a copy of your Living Will

Jo: I know, freaky isn't it. But, you know when she said that since King Ralph was with me and he knows my wishes...I said I just want pink tulips on my casket. She laughed so she got my point with the nonsense I saw in all that. Humor, I back lashed with humor.

keeper: did you end up wearing a clip in your hair

Jo: Funny! Don't you remember after the nurse asked for my Living Will she told me if they needed to jump start my heart for any reason the clip would be a conductive and fry a hole in the top of my head.

keeper: Oh ya and then she asked if you wanted a hole in the top of your head. I do however see you broke the rule of no makeup.

Jo: Isn't it bad enough that I am laying here naked under this sheet having holes cut in my torso while my organ is sucked out and they stand around suggesting I should have a breast lift, a bikini wax and my eye brows could use a waxing too. Last thing I wanted was them commenting on my under eye bags. Besides that same nurse said when I asked if I shouldn't wear makeup today that she was having some surgery soon and she was going to wear makeup, but not to say she said so. I kept it light and natural.

keeper: sounds to me like since she has you near dead, she wants you like that Uncle of King Ralph's who comes to the family reunion picnics in his suit. Ya know looking good already just in case...

Jo: oh keeper, you are a funny one.

keeper: bikini wax...you should have...

Jo: Shut up. Can't you see you see I am having an organ removed.

keeper: wanna talk about that stimulus package. Say like $40million for condoms.

Jo: do you want them to jump start my heart?!

keeper: Tee-he. Hey girl, did you suggest a little lipo while they have the slits cut in your belly.

Jo: I did, weren't you listening? As I was slipping into this sleep I asked-- the doc said he didn't have those tools with him. I think. Who knows. This anesthetic has me jabbering nonsense I think. I think though ,maybe, I need my fat still to hang so it covers these scars I will have.

keeper: I think your sagging boob is what is going to do the trick for two of those scars.

Jo: keeper you are looking for a good ass kicking aren't you?

keeper: hey, wasn't it nice of Nikki to come down from her floor [above] to say hi-- not just once but twice.

Jo: I know. That's the love I get from my friend since high school who just happens to work at this hospital and loves me.

keeper: I don't want to be the one break it to you but they are filling you stomach with air so the scope can get in and when you wake you are gonna realize this air is a real "killer".

As I awoke it hit me--post-anesthetic nausea (I had to stay till 6pm instead of 3pm) and my stomach is distended with that gassy air in the abdomen--not the kind of gas you can pass with a hellacious fart. It just needs a day or two to dissipate. It is very uncomfortable. I only have three, not four cuts as expected... they told King Ralph it is because I am a small person (ha, who are they trying to kid). These three cuts feel like John Cena kicked my ass with one of those fancy unexpected WWE style full body slams.

The bedside service is great. I am ravenous, wanting everything I can get my hands on-- Ramon Noodle soup, strawberry ice cream, a sliver of a Poor Boy,a couple of Eggo's-- all to give base to the fabulous Vicodin I am popping every four hours. Pain killers can be a beautiful thing--for the right reasons, of course.

And, the Clapper-- the Clapper has turned out to be my God send. There has never been such joy in turning on my lamp as I have found today lounging in my bed--where I will remain most of the next week.

* I didn't eat all that food at one time. I ate, popped a pill, napped, ate, popped a pill, napped...