My poor car! 

Broken car 

Vicodan Dreams

I recently had a wreck and hurt my neck. I didn’t go to the doctor because I have enough pain pills in the house to self medicate, plus I didn’t really think I had anything wrong with me except a bad case of whiplash. Anyway, Tuesday night I took some Vicodan before I went to sleep. Apparently, Vicodan and I do not get along very well, because not only did I wake up at 11, 12, 1and 2, I also had some of the strangest dreams ever! The dream between 11 and 12 was the most mysterious. I was in a desert, but this desert had big, massive tree roots sticking out of the ground. There were no trees, only roots. It was hot and I was crawling on the ground trying to get away from two Saudis dressed in full Islam garb, complete with machine guns. I have no idea how I knew they were Saudis or why they were chasing me, but they were. I also knew they would kill me if they caught up with me. Just as I was about to crest a hill, I started losing my will to crawl. The sun was beating down on me and I remember thinking, “If I can only make it to the top of the hill, I can roll down the other side and buy some time.” But I just could not hold onto the tree roots and I kept slipping back. Just as the Saudis were about to reach me, I closed my eyes, preparing for the gunshots. Instead of the sound of an automatic weapon, I heard one of the Saudis say, “Hello, my name is Halam.” I opened my eyes and saw that both of them had changed from robes to running shorts and tank tops and were enjoying a fast jog. The man named Halamed continued, “My dad is the king. I am late for a date. I am a male stripper.” Then I woke up.

Offending toe # 2 

Offending toe # 1 

The South Shall Rise Again

I am a runner, or at least I pretend to be, usually logging 2-4 miles a day. I don’t run fast, but I have a lot of endurance and since I am kind of an exercise and health nut, running all those miles fits into my lifestyle well. One of the many hazards of this lifestyle is getting hurt, knowing you are responsible for the pain and continuing the damaging behavior. The most bothersome and persistent “pain” I have had to endure throughout the years is the loss of toenails. On average, I lose about one toenail every 1.5 years. It is almost always the second toenail on my right foot. It gets a bruise under it and eventually just comes off. In order to prevent this disgusting occurrence, I wear toe rings all year round to keep my toes from rubbing on my shoes. This usually works wonders. I have been lucky because, as far back as I can remember, when I did lose a toenail it has always been lost in the non-sandal wearing season. This weekend, however, I lost two toenails. The second toenail on each foot! Now, as much as I hate to admit it, there are some southern values this little lady has internalized so deeply she cannot possibly ever overcome and having pretty, well-kept feet during the sandal season is one of them. My friend Vanessa and I have discussed this several times; we just never go without nail polish if our feet are to be on display. And now I have two hideous toes, devoid of not only polish, but also toenails! When I look at them, I do declare, I feel a faint coming on and feel the urge to grab my smelling salts. Not that I have any, but I want to paint the appropriate picture here. I really do feel very unkempt and somewhat naked. I have even contemplated not wearing sandals or flip flops until the darned things heal. Who knew that after all the years fighting the south’s pull, a little thing like toenails would yank my southern roots right out for the whole world to see?