Taking a Moment

Just to sit and reflect this year so far. And I have to say, 2010 isn’t that much better than 2009. . .

I have wrecked my car, hurt my back and tore my gastrocs (calf muscle) and that doesn’t include moving from home back to Chattanooga, losing Granny, gaining way too much weight or the lack of dates.

But some good things have happened and I have to be grateful for my friends, family and cat. My BFF is due at the first of next year with a healthy little boy, another friend is due January that also lost her son last year, another friend is due with her first in May and I am sure that there will be many more announcements of love and babies to come.

Today was spent napping (I have really got to work on this one!), doing laundry and cooking. The nap was great because Wookie gets all snuggled up to me and we can stay on the couch for hours snoring away.

He has since tried to distract me from the many tasks at hand, like, oh I don’t know, washing my sheets, clothes and getting the dishwasher loaded and going. He loves anything that is really warm, so I have had to fish him out of the dryer several times, move him from the just fluffed up (and very toasty) comforter. He also attempted to help me make the bed by standing right next to me and I inadvertently stepped on his tail. I was put on notice that I was to apologize to him and love on him. Then he noticed that once again the dryer door was open and warm, so after tossing my clothes in to dry, I had to pry him from it so I could start it once again.

And these are the little moments that I love. He may not be a human child but he is mine and there are times when he reminds me that I need to put the book, computer or magazine down and just sit with him. He also shared with me his love of cheese. And not just some cheap, block of cheese, the kind that I splurged on while at Earth Fare Friday night.

So tonight, I will get ready for bed, cuddle with my little man and I will think of the good things. I will also say a little prayer for Liam and Daniel. Two sweet little babies that were here for a short time but are loved by many. And remembered.

Caught in the Rain

This morning I awoke to a nice thunderstorm brewing. In the past, I have been known to shrink from them because of my little fear of tornadoes. But as luck would have it, moving away from Nashville and from my trusty tornado siren a block from my old place has me yearning for the days gone by, when Nancy Van Camp was my best friend, sharing with me all the places that were about to be hit by a storm and when I should take the cat and myself into my bathroom.

I recently got a pair of Wellies, well, not the real ones but rubber boots none the less and today was the first day I could pull those bad boys out to wear. Oh the excitement! Again, it’s the little things that make me happy.

I meant to get my umbrella from the car yesterday but failed to do so, so I had to run for it to my car this morning. And I look like a very awkward, just learning how to run cow since I am still a bit tender in the calf area. All was well though and I managed to get downtown to the office with no troubles.

But lunchtime came and the sound of tomato soup at my desk didn’t sound like much of a lunch. The calling of Panera Bread was yelling loud and clear, so I grabbed my book, keys, money and phone. I thought about grabbing my umbrella but decided I wouldn’t need it.

This is where you all smack the palm of your hand to your forehead. Yep, no sooner had I finished my yummy French Onion soup had the sky opened up. The thunder roared and I kicked myself with my fake Wellies for not grabbing the umbrella.

I got my stuff together and headed out the door thinking if I sprinted (awkwardly mind you) that I could get to the cover for the free shuttle and wait it out. But wait! The bus is just pulling up to the stop, can I make it? I break out in what has to be a worse all out run than Pheobe’s run in Central Park with my book, money, keys and drink shaking badly. At least I had a pocket and could put my phone there and prayed that it would not make a break for it as I ran, almost yelling for mercy from the bus driver.

I made it, the bus driver took pity on the soaked person running amok and then smiled as I breathlessly thanked him for waiting on me. I was only five blocks away from the office but the downpour was one that waiting it out or trying to walk back would have made it look like I had just gotten out of the shower.

When I got to my block I indicated a stop, got off and proceeded to get even more soaked for the less than half block sprint into the lobby. The guard barely looked at me and those in the elevator just smirked as I stood there trying not to drip on anyone.

Once back in the safety of my cubicle I realized that I was soaked to the bone and my hair was wet to the point that my desk was getting wet. I tried to pull myself together as best as I could and carried on with my workday.

When I got home I took a look at myself in the mirror. That crazy curly hair that I have that looks more like multiply personality Barbie? It was in full effect, no wonder one of the producers was looking at me as if I was a deranged psychopath. Some parts were curly, some were straight and the rest couldn’t make up it’s mind.

And this my friends is why you should carry an umbrella, even if you are in doubt. Or a mirror, brush and hair dryer.


Apparently it does not take much to humor me or allow my emotions to go overboard. I am in love with Ikea! (henceforth how I will write it since I shout it excitedly whenever I say it’s name) and cannot believe it has taken me this long to visit.

Bird and I got on the road by 9:30 (after a much needed stop to pick up some food at Chick-Fil-A) to head down south. Our trip wasn’t too terribly long and as a coworker told me, I took Northside Drive on my quest to visit this long elusive store. But in true form I forgot to turn left onto 17th, so after being taunted by Ikea! being so close yet so far I finally got us there.

I was overwhelmed from the moment we stepped into the store. Too.much.stuff.to.look.at! After a brief potty break (and seriously, I could have held it because I just wanted to get into the store and start the adventure) we found a shopping cart and bags and shuffled off to start looking at all the stuff. We started in the kitchen section and let’s just be honest for a minute, I have all kinds of kitchen gadgets, I really don’t need anything else and when I do it will be upgrading what I have now but… I just had to pick up everything, look at it longingly and then stop myself from throwing it in my bag. I did pick up a couple of funnels (I swear I had one but during one of my many moves it has flown the coup).

And then on and on through all the departments, seriously, I wasn’t sure we would ever make it to the end. And all that PT, while has helped greatly, wasn’t a match for all the walking we did.

We took a break once we got through all of the first floor and headed to the cafe for lunch. While I love food and really love to eat, I do better with kid’s meals because the portions are usually just right. Ikea! has a great kid’s menu and had a special that day for buy one dessert, get one free. So for $3.50 this is what I got. . .


Yum! Meatballs and Mashed Potatoes!


There was a cute picture of me stuff my face with a meatball but somehow it wasn’t on my phone today once I started looking for it.

Once fed we went for round two of browsing through the store. This time on the second floor where they have the furniture and room layouts. I fell in love with several kitchens and became convinced that I should immediately sell my furniture, move to NYC and live in a 375 sq ft apartment, decked out with all things Ikea! Of course reality sunk in and I realized that I would need a job, money and a very large sedative for Wookie.

After spending almost four hours in the store, it was time to say goodbye. I had grabbed a bunch of goodies throughout our adventure but left with a tab of only $16.75. I was quite proud of myself since I really kept check of what I was throwing my cart.

After a quick trip to H&M to share with Bird one of my finds while shopping up north we headed to The Varsity. An institution in Atlanta and the mortal enemy to my waistline. But it isn’t everyday that I can be greeted with “Whata ya havin, whata ya havin?!” so I marched right up to the counter and ordered my chili dog, onion rings and chocolate shake.


What's left of my meal. . .


And what trip to The Varsity is complete without putting on the hat and taking a picture of yourself looking like a complete dork. Actually, I made Bird take the picture. . .


Whata ya havin?

It was a very fun day in Atlanta but now I must start an email campaign to get Ikea! to Nashville. Once we finally got home, between the cat and my body screaming at me, it was definitely time to hit the hay. I was beat!


PT is Almost Over

And all I can say for that is AMEN! I have really enjoyed my time in physical therapy but since I have been going for about three months for two different ailments, I can safely say that I would prefer to be done with it.

My back only hurts when I have pushed myself really past the point of no return. My calf muscle hurts from time to time but I can’t complain since I can actually walk now without a limp. I have been pushing myself really hard in PT as of late, leaving there a sweaty mess. I am hoping that this will bring about a change in the weight department because let’s be honest here. . . I have really let myself go in terms of watching what I eat.

And by watching, I really mean I watch as I shovel it into my mouth. When the big girl pants start to feel tight that means I need to cut myself off. I also know that my injuries were probably not helped with the added weight, so getting it off will help me feel better and zip around quicker.

On that note, I have a bit of cardio on my plate for tomorrow. Yes, I am going shopping. Well, it all stems from the fact that my beloved Nashville doesn’t have an Ikea or H&M, so I am taking advantage of my close location to Atlanta by hitting it up tomorrow with Bird. We consider Black Friday a sport and one of these days we are going to have to put her girls into training so that they understand and appreciate the sport.

So blog friends, I will finally get to say I have been to Ikea or as I like to say IKEA! to others and I need to remember to take pictures. This is one for the books and since I am kind of lame like that, this will probably be the most excitement I have had this year.

On a Harry Potter note, I am now in Year Five and am in a mad dash to get through them in time for November 19th. At least I can say that I won’t be dressing up for the film. I haven’t gone that far. . .yet.

A Haircut Induces Looks, Screams and Sighs

There is a salon in Nashville that I have gone to many times, I always enjoy going their because by the time they wash my hair I am completely relaxed and my hair is squeaky clean. The girl who I used to see there is no longer there and I had been wanting to change stylists but it is kind of like breaking up with a guy but still having to see him. Awkward!

So I run into the salon about five minutes late (story of my life) and his first look at me was one of shock and I am guessing an “Oh, hell, no: thought ran across his brain.

Picture me, pudgy, clothes ill fitting, I have my bangs that should not have been cut into my hair back in January, flipped up with a barrette. The drive from Chattanooga to home elicited sunroof open and windows down. So I wouldn’t have the knots from hell I twisted the rest of my hair and clipped it.

And once I landed in my old office, I should have had a meeting with a brush but I went about my business of getting things printed instead. So I looked like a mess with pants cutting off my circulation and my fat rolls showing off their latest finds with my eating habits.

He sits me down, asks when I had my haircut last and I mumbled last spring. He gives me a look. Then asks what I am wanting to do with my hair. Umm. . .

Well, I don’t want banks, they drive me batty. Don’t want my hair too short since my face is as round as a pumpkin. I like layers but the last chick who did this gave me two distinct layers which pulls my hair down. Umm, noting too short. . . oh, I am super lazy in the morning, so something that will be easy to deal with. I feel like I have had this style forever, wouldn’t mind a change. . .What do you think?

I have to give him credit because I really thought he was going to start laughing and say move along to Great Clips  please. . . But he walked me to the back to get my hair cleaned and those ladies are wonderful. They comb out your wet hair, they dry your ears and send you on you way.

So this poor man is now looking at the mop I have on my head and says we can bob it or go with layers. I knew that while I love the whole bob look, it can pull my hair down showing no signs of volume quickly. So I said, layer this mess,

He elicited a “girlfriend” with a sigh and I was in trouble. The ends were splitting and had I waited longer a good portion of my hair would be gone. We had a nice talk about getting haircuts on a regular basis. Once he was done and began drying my hair he styled it kind of odd. Meaning he used round brushes to create volume and at one point I had about six brushes on top of my head. The overall look once he was finished was great but how do I take my head off to pull this stunt off daily?

So on my list of things to do is to get a smaller round brush, I have a 3 inch round and really need the 2 inch round. He didn’t use the flat iron, just gussied up my hair with brushes and it looked nice.

But he did say I better not come back in with all those clippies in my hair next time. . .

That poor man but he did seem pleased with the outcome and I am trying to keep him proud in between cuts. . .

But the good news is my color (done around this time last year) is still holding up. So I might be able to wait to do partial highlights early next year.

I came in looking all jacked up and came out with a smaller chance of scaring small children. He is a miracle worker.

Bullying and Suicide

As with so much of the news lately, we have heard about kids killing themselves over bullying, having a different sexual orientation and depression. It pains me to read the stories and see that those who have taken their lives have lost hope.

I have been open about my moments in the dark, feeling hopeless and wondering if things would ever get better. And I have also experienced losing people to suicide, which probably made a huge impact for my whole graduating high school class.

We lost a great guy, who was extremely funny and kept my English teacher on her toes. It came as a shock towards the end of junior year because no one saw it coming and really, in a somewhat small town, the belief that something like this could happen was far from anyone’s mind.

I also lost a friend just last year to suicide; a sweet kid that I grew up with in church. Depression had gotten a hold of him and I can only imagine that he thought that dark tunnel would never end.

And an interesting conversation, if I can even say that, came a few years ago when an old co-worker of my dad’s was part of a murder-suicide. His wife knew he was very ill and that she was getting up in age, so she did it.My mom discussed the situation with me, shared with me the touching moments at their funerals. But. . .

Yet I wanted to scream, at each of the instances, that that isn’t the way to deal with things. In my mind, I would rather fight through those horrible times than go this route. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings because I understand what it feels like to feel like the whole world is against you, that you can’t do anything right but for me, and this is just me, suicide is taking the easy way out.

I don’t understand how some people can be so cruel to others, cannot fathom what goes through those kids minds when they think there is no hope. Of course, no one really knows the whole story.

I saw M as a guy who had it all in high school, the class clown always willing to get a rise out of the teacher, well liked and loved by many. B really came into his own once he left our hometown and was a dare devil. He jumped out of perfectly good airplanes. . .

As I have said before, I take medicine that keeps my panic attacks under control. I also have friends that question me for taking a pill a day. They may think that that is taking the easy way out.

I read the other day on an etiquette website that a family was bullying another family all because their kids were not invited to a birthday party. They harassed them, made fun of the dead mother and the dying child. The mother of the bullying family apparently mentioned during the television interview that she had hoped the harassment would chap the grandmother’s @ss.

And yet we all scratch our heads wondering why some kids are mean to others? While there is no hard and fast answer when it comes to helping those who have lost hope, a random act of kindness or even a smile goes a long way.

It made me feel better when I was in that stupid boot when a random stranger would smile, make a comment or even say they would be praying for me. We all have our bad days but taking a moment to stop and smile doesn’t cost us anything. And when we see someone being made fun of or maybe different from us, taking the time to just be nice to them could be just what they need.

And for those of you who might be experiencing that deep, dark hole, well, it sucks, I am not going to lie. BUT it does get better. And who knows, what you learn from it might just help someone else that ends up in your shoes.

Rereading Harry Potter. . .

I am an admitted dork and while I am gearing up for the next to last Harry Potter film I have been rereading the series from the beginning. And I have found a deeper meaning to the books this go around.

I am a fast reader and while that can get expensive, there are many books in my personal library that I enjoy going back and reading only to discover new thoughts, a great line and even some typos.

But the key to my missive this time is the overall theme of the books, while it is fun to see a version of the world with broomsticks, Quiddich and spells, the underlying theme to this series is truly about doing the right thing, even when it is much harder to do.

I faced a situation in the past week that made me think, question myself, my abilities and kept me repeatedly saying sorry to those friends who always are there, ready to lend a hand. Those same friends came right back at me with don’t worry, you did a fine a job and we love you. Those simple sentiments while trying hard not to crumble and cry made me have a light bulb moment.

I may not be voted prom queen or most popular but I didn’t care about those accolades in high school, so why should I care now? We all want to be liked and accepted but sometimes the line between doing the right thing and just taking the easy way out is quite obvious.

I was talking to a friend this past week, a friend that didn’t think much of me at one point in time. She wanted to apologize for giving me a hard time and realized that while I might be a zealous control freak with issues, my heart has always been in the right place. After such an emotional and tiring week, I was ready to sit and just cry, but it would not be tears of sadness. I wanted to say to her to stop being so silly, that it really is no big deal.

Sure, it is really hard to do the right thing sometimes, it is a test to make sure that your internal moral compass is set due north. I have made plenty of mistakes and will make plenty more but I have also been blessed with friends who are there for me.

Some people like to castigate JK Rowling and those who do read her books, saying that it is about witchcraft, magic; but the reality is they have not read the books or if they have, not taken the time to see what the true meaning is of the books. It is about picking friends who will be there for you, who are supportive and understand right from wrong.

The books are about being open and kind to others who may not look like you or act like you. It is about acceptance and taking that road that some fear may just be too hard to take.

The series also did something for children that has made my heart smile, it has made children love to read again and discover a place that they can go. A book can take you anywhere and when your budget is tight, a chance t get away, even if it is just for a few minutes at a time.

I might be lame for reading “kiddie” books but I don’t care. Some people understand me and love me for who I am; others may only tolerate me while others might be openly hostile towards me. But I am me and if I didn’t care about senior superlatives in high school, I definitely don’t care about them now.

And go find a book and stick your nose in it! You just might travel to fascinating places and learn something you didn’t know before!

Mondays. . .

Mondays always get to me and I think it has to do with the whole getting back into the grove after the weekend.

I have been working hard at physical therapy and it shows by the sheer exhaustion and sweat once I am done. Saturday morning I thought of my PT when I hobbled around, tired from the previous day’s workout.

Today was no different, I am learning to push myself more and trust that my leg will keep up with the rest of me. I was totally clueless when I was put in the boot by how much my body overcompensated for the injury. Things that most people don’t think about, like going up and down stairs, is something that makes me stop and think about now.

My injury wasn’t that big of a deal compared to others in PT but having managed to make it through my childhood with a few stitches and jammed fingers, it became a big deal. Even my two surgeries I have been through don’t compare to the relearning that I have been doing. It is kind of frustrating actually.

And the best part is, I am a klutz, so me walking without running into something is cause for celebration! My next big test will be the work event this Thursday. It is a very physical 24 hours for me and I am going to have to accommodate some. I know I can’t carry around a ton of heavy stuff nor can I go running through the venue even with flats on. I will have to remind myself that just because I feel much better doesn’t mean that I am 100%.

As for what I am doing while not working or having nightmares about the event . . .well, I am into Year Four of the Harry Potter books. I decided to challenge myself to reread them all before the next to last move comes out. So far, I am kind of on track. I am hoping that once the party is done, I can sit back and focus on getting through this one and the final three.

I never said my life was super exciting but reading is one of those wonderful things I enjoy. And then I will be all set to watch the movie.

Here is to Monday, you are almost gone from my life for a week, so glad to see you go by quickly.

Where Does Bullying Get You?

This post is dedicated to anyone who has ever felt bullied, misunderstood or out of place. My heart breaks for those kids who have committed suicide because they were different and didn’t have the strength to say “This is who I am and I am okay with it.”

In my book, not very far. I have been kind of shocked with the recent wave of coverage in the news and even the gossip blogs (hey, I have to have downtime…). A few years back I was taking a grad class and my topic for my final paper had to do with bullying but it was a new kind of bullying.

So let’s get a bit uncomfortable for a few minutes and discuss. I don’t think I was bullied while in school. Made fun of, sure. Picked on because my outfit wasn’t the best and newest, more than likely. Were there days where I felt like no one liked me and I couldn’t do anything right? Yes and I feel like that from time to time now. But the difference between now and then? I am older, wiser (well, kind of) and I try to realize that as long as I am okay with me then it really isn’t that big of a deal.

I also had parents that instilled in me the ability to be okay with who I am. I also have the uncanny nature to change those things into something funny. I also tend to think that those who say horrible things about us must have something bothering them. So I try to let it go.

But the internet has created a new wave of bullying culture. We can hide behind our computer screens and say what we want without fear of backlash. We can say things that we would never be brave to say to someone standing right in front of us. And that is scary. Especially when most kids have computers and the parents might not take such a hard stance of watching what their kids are reading, writing or even posting.

I was an early adopter of Facebook and as it became more commonplace to use it as a way of communicating, people began to forget that anyone can see it. Friends, parents, employers, teachers. . .well unless you lock it down so tight that it makes it near impossible for people to find you in a search.

Take for example a post I saw recently, it basically was from a girl threatening another girl for talking to her man. It was filled with cuss words, threats and things that made me blush (and that is hard to do). Does this girl realize that this little episode she had on FB is there forever? Sure you can delete it but it can be cached in Google or the person being threatened can screen catch it and save it for a rainy day.

I would like to say that it doesn’t bother me when I realize that someone doesn’t like me or they make fun of me but it does. I know that in anger sometimes we all let it all out but in the world of the internet, that stuff stays forever. And you might have to answer to someone about that long after you had that little episode.

I have always been the nice girl with snark thrown in for good measure. I try not to say bad things about people but I am human and it is a work in progress. My friends always say that if you need something done, some help or just a shoulder to cry on, I am right there. They chide me for it from time to time because that has come to bite me in my butt when it comes to men but this is who I am. I like to help out, not for anything in return, I just like to help.

Maybe it is that deep-seeded desire for everyone to like me. Or maybe it is things that have been said to me in the past that cause me to go over the deep end in terms of being nice.

I had a teacher ask if I was poor one time for the outfit I wore to school one day. It was a pair of courderoy pants in bright pink and a bright blue top. As it happened, a neighbor had bought that for me as a gift. Those colors happened to be in at the time and while I cringe at the memory of the outfit, it was cool then. I don’t think I wore it after that though. I had a teacher whom I bumped into after college give me the pity look and say that it was sad that I was cooking for one. I have had a teacher trying her best to say that I had really blossomed in high school in terms of being outgoing, speaking my mind, etc. but the words came out sounding horrible. As in who would have thought you could become this outspoken young lady? And then two boys at camp, laughing about my inability to play tennis said something about my thunder thighs.

Those words were all spoken to me, not even written down, posted on the internet for the world to see and yet I still remember them. Had I been someone who shall we say wasn’t hard headed, I could have crumbled. The words stung, they are engraved in my brain but that hard head of mine still wants to prove to them and to others that I am a neat woman, full of thoughts, laughs and awkwardness.

As I and many of my friends have said, we are all so grateful that we didn’t grow up in this day and age. Our blunders, mistakes, snide comments and questionable photos are locked safely away in our closets. Our nights drinking at the fraternity house are blurry, distant memories. And some of those outfits have been sent to the dump only to show back up in department stores that make us cringe and then deny, deny, deny that we ever wore anything like that.

So where does bullying get you? Does it get you into Heaven quicker? Does it make you the most popular person in the class, office or bar? Does it make looking at yourself in the mirror easier?

I don’t have the answers to any of those questions. I can only say that we all need to think twice before speaking, be there for our friends and family and for those who have children, remind them that the internet may give them a mask but the damage done to the other person is just as bad, if not worse than throwing a punch at that person.

And yes, sometimes I feel a bit dirty and disgusted with myself after reading the gossip blogs. But I have found some great tidbits, items to ponder and a reminder that my life isn’t really all that bad.


October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month

First, thanks to the website http://www.nbcam.org/index.cfm for this too cute for words logo! The site has tons of information about breast cancer, spreading awareness, etc.

In a past life (about eight years ago I think) I worked for a company that sold cancer plans. Part of my job was to train agents about the product, give them facts to share with their clients and provide materials needed for them to be successful.

But there is one tidbit that always stood out for me. . .

One in two men will be diagnosed with cancer and one in three women will be diagnosed with cancer

That should stop about anyone in their tracks and if it doesn’t? Well, I have no words. We all know someone who was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Sometimes it is as simple as a mole has cancer cells, the mole is removed and the person is fine. Other times it is the simple precancerous cells that are found, in say a woman’s cervix. But more times than not, the cancer is not detected until it has reached a point that it will impact that person’s life as well as those around them. Cancer is not to be taken lightly. It isn’t a joke. I have seen coworkers and friends watch their loved ones battle cancer.

My story is really quite simple and doesn’t compare to most who have dealt with cancer. Twelve years ago I went in for a routine pap smear. The results were abnormal and I was instructed to have a colpop. Basically, that is just a fancy word for biopsy. This allows the doctor to take a look at the cells in question, send the cells to a lab if called for and then they call you back. Let’s just say, these phone calls are nothing to look forward to, I prefer not to hear from my doctors or nurses. They don’t call equals good news.

But the nurse called back and asked for me to come in to speak to my doctor. To say I was freaked out would be understating my feelings at the time. I went in, we talked, she explained what she needed to do next and threw out the term, displaysia, meaning, precancerous cells on my cervix. I was 24 at the time and didn’t really think about the outcome being bad. I remember thinking that if they can’t get it or it comes back, well, just take everything out. As much as I have always wanted to be a mom, at this point, I was more concerned about what they had found and what it could be.

The setting up for the procedure (LEEP) took longer than the actual procedure. They shaved the first layer of my cervix off and sent me on my way. At 24 I wasn’t thinking all the gloom and doom. My next three pap smears came back normal and all was right in the world.

I had a repeat of that story last summer but luckily, we only got to the colpop stage and everything looked fine. Two pap smears down, one more to go and then it is back to annual checkups.

I share all of this with you to let you know that cancer is real, it can hit anyone, young, old, kind, mean, anyone. Last summer, the scare hit me harder because I was older and knew that my stupid biological clock was ticking and I no longer was blase about take it all out if need be.

I have known ladies who hate going in for a pap smear and it drives me insane. I have said it here before, if a few minutes of being uncomfortable for a test prevents months of chemo, surgery, etc. then sign me up! I have no shame about going to the doctor, advocating for myself and making sure that I have the checkups when needed.

I also do the self check breast examine monthly. I don’t really know what I am looking for but if I ever felt something off, I would call my doctor and discuss it with her.

So save the ta tas! Check them out monthly, get your yearly exams and for the men in your life, force them to the doctor annually for blood work and a checkup. Most of this will fall under your wellness allowance on your health plan, so take advantage of that.

And most importantly, be an advocate for your health. While this month is all about boobs, wearing pink and making others aware, it is only a month, so carry over that awareness for the rest of the year.

And maybe tomorrow I will share with you my fun filled, silly weekend.