Vigorous Anonymity

Archive for May 2010

When a baby is born in a New Jersey hospital, the parents are given a green, pink and white blanket, an ID bracelet, and a roll of quarters.  The quarters are for Parkway tolls.  Because every New Jersey kid comes with a prerequisite that its parents introduce it to the Jersey shore.

In New Jersey, we don’t go to the beach.  We go “down the shore”.  It doesn’t matter that a lot of territory that isn’t the beach also isn’t north of it.  If you live in Camden, you pretty much just drive straight across the state…still, you’re going down the shore.

I made my first trip down the shore when I was about six.  My parents took me, because, like I said, it’s a prerequisite.  If you can picture in your head the palest, most ill-equipped people to sit on a beach, you have my parents.  I’m pretty sure my father was wearing black socks.  We only went the one time, but I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was a “day trip”, we probably only spent a few hours on the beach, but Dad and I collected sea shells, which back in the 60s were in prominence on the beach, but now are incredibly rare.  I was afraid of the water (still can’t swim) but the smells and the sounds were amazing.  And once a Jersey kid experiences it, they have to refill the cup on a regular basis.  There are rules about these things.

When I was a teenager but too young to drive, I went to Seaside Heights all the time with my friend Becky because her parents were big into day trips.  We used to wear the precursor to the tankini, which was basically a little bikini bottom and what was almost a mini dress over the top.  We thought we looked awesome.

Enter the first boyfriend, he with the 1978 Firebird Formula – fire engine red, with black leather interior and the T-roof.  No air conditioning though.  Jerry regretted that a long time.  We would drive down to Belmar after he was done with work on Friday nights and we’d spend 3 hours just cruising up and down the boardwalk, winning stuffed animals and stuffing our faces with funnel cake.  The boardwalk at night was magic.  The lights, the voices, the smell of Coppertone.  Magic.

This weekend is Memorial Day, and thus the cycle begins again.  New Jersey will once again be heading down the shore.  It will be Springsteen and Southside Johnny on the iPod for as long as the kids in the back seat will allow it.  It will be the mad calculations about when to leave and how to miss the traffic and what detours to take when you get near what used to be the Garden State Arts Center but is now called the PNC something-or-other.  Because the other thing that Memorial Day brings is traffic.  Mounds and mounds of traffic.  Basically, if you have to go south in Jersey, you don’t do it on a Friday night, and if you need to come north for work on Monday, you leave 3 hours before work starts and drive straight there.  Otherwise, you’ll spend 5 hours in bumper to bumper traffic with two screaming kids in the back seat and a husband who curses at everything that moves faster than he does.

It’s a big time in Jersey.  I can’t remember a summer I didn’t spend down the shore in some fashion or another.  A day.  A weeekend…sometimes two weeks in a row if we were fortunate.  And that first smell of dead clams as you cross the causeway is worth the 5 hours it took you to make a 2 hour drive.  Trust me.  It is.


So thank you all for the feminine hygiene tips (yes I’m looking at you, Shania), but I think I’ve gotten that part down pat…so to speak.

Yesterday, I went to a urologist, who I shall call Dr. Luv.  First of all that’s part of his name, but my adoration goes oh so much deeper than that.

He was about 42, funny, cute and playful.  LOVE that about a doctor.  I almost don’t care if they can cure me if they’re willing to flirt with me a little.

Anyway, he looked things over (yes…all “things”) and decided this has been one long infection that hasn’t been treated well and not 3 individual recurrences.  He switched me from antibiotics to an antiseptic, which I’ve never taken orally (I’ve put it on the occasional burn but I’m guessing it’s not the same thing in cream form) and which has turned my pee a lovely shade of azure blue.  Really, you haven’t lived until you get up from the pot and glance behind to find the Caribbean Sea in your toilet.

I’ve had 2 of these pills and I feel 100% better.  The blue piss is just a plus.

He’s sending me for an ultrasound to check on the parts, because I said I hated cat-scans.  He agreed and said an ultrasound was fine.  Like I said, love the Dr. Luv.  Gave me samples of the drugs so I don’t have to buy them.  And on the way out…wait for it…told me I could drink on these pills!  WINE, come to my baby!

I’ve been dry for 3 weeks now.  I’m cranky.  My first drink will be in honor of Dr. Luv.

I’ve had a bladder infection for 6 weeks.  I’m a little testy about it…it’s irritating and painful and causing me to run through my sick/personal time like the water I can’t pass.   Pardon the pun, but it’s pissing me off.

I’ve been on 3 rounds of antibiotics, and if you know anything about me at all, it’s that I don’t do well on antibiotics.  Amazingly, all these have done is make me throw up a lot.  Hell, I’ve even lost a few pounds!  But at least I haven’t stopped breathing for any significant amount of time, so there’s that.

Basically, I stop the antibiotics and a week later it’s back.  The second time this happened, I was in so much pain and had spike a fever so high and so fast that I decided a trip to the ER was the only thing that was going to help.

And today, I am going to see a urologist.  Can I just tell you how much I am dreading this?  The official name of the practice is “Prostate Cancer and Urology Center”.  Prostate…I’m pretty sure I don’t have one of those.  So I imagining sitting in a waiting room full of squirmy men, all wondering what the hell I’m doing there.

I really don’t want to go, but I know I must.  I even decided this morning I was feeling miraculously better and maybe I wouldn’t bother.  And then I beat myself about the head and shoulders and came to my senses.  But still…don’t want to goooo!

So yeah, this whole thing is making me a little testes…er…testy.

So what do you do when you have the urge to post again and it’s been 159 months since your last post?  No, seriously, I’m asking.

I’ve had the urge lately.  Not that there’s anything more interesting going on than a bladder infection and a 19 year old daughter home for the summer, but…I dunno…I think it’s interesting.  Mayhap others will too??

So I’m just going to go with the urge like I posted yesterday.  Catch up, if you can.  (Also, I believe in posting like someone is going to read it even though probably no one is!  It’s the optimist in me.)

I’m sitting at my desk today, and my boss is out.  I have like 2 things to do.  Two Things!  And they’ve been sitting here since Monday morning because, I dunno about you, but if I’m not so busy I can’t take time to wipe my butt, then I can’t get anything done.  I just keep pushing these Two Things from one side of my desk to another.  Occasionally I send someone an email about them.  And then I shuffle them again.  It’s a system.

I am in desperate need of a couple of days off.  Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for Memorial Day – a holiday I understand, but frankly never have plans for and thus always feel left out of something on Monday morning.  But it will be a much needed respite.  I was transferred a month ago to our main office because my boss needed to learn how to use email and the commute was an hour and fifteen minutes one way on a good day.  I really only had about 5 good days in the month I was there, though.  One night, it took me four hours to get home.  Why, yes, I did stop at a friend’s house mid-commute for a glass of wine, but you would have done the same.  Don’t judge me.

I have lots more to talk about, but you know how it goes.  This white page stares at me and sucks all my cogent thoughts out of my fingertips.  I hate when that happens.


  • None
  • TheQueen: Yeah, perhaps next year suggest you ALL just skip the adult gifts and focus on the little ones. I'm sure you won't miss it!
  • kristabella: Yay! You're back!
  • Shania Ring: Out of all of that, the only thing in my head is 20?!? Twenty? I remember a little boy in middle school when I first started reading you. Are you SURE