This? This is my marriage in a nutshell.

Erica: Capt. Janky McLefterson is Very Unhappy about yesterday’s shenanigans. Like, “fuck me, why didn’t I save a pain pill!” unhappy.

Gerald: well of course, you fucked with it till hell wouldn’t have it : b

Erica: I really need a god damn gyro.

Gerald: that was random : b

Erica: yeah

Erica: it sounded better than “fuck you, that wasn’t helpful and my boob still hurts.”

Got cancer? Clean something!

I have two more days until I get The Call from the oncologist telling me whether or not I have cancer. As you can imagine, I’m feeling pretty restless and anxious just waiting. When situations are out of my control, I get on an Organizational Kick™. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be one of those people that tries to control outside forces by not eating, but that’s just not me. I’m gonna stuff something unhealthy in my pie hole and clean something. I’d like to think the calories offset one another, but the extra 30 lbs I’m hauling in my trunk beg to differ.

Today’s attempt to keep the Cancer Thoughts™ away was my pantry. When my son was born, my MIL stayed with us for a few weeks. She said she felt useless (which she was NOT) and wanted to do something. Could she please clean out my pantry? I’ve thought of this repeatedly and since my in-laws will be visiting in a month, I decided to clean the damn pantry so she’ll be proud.

Here are the shocking before photos:

There was a large dog food container and cat food container in the corner, on top of all that detritus.

My organizational system had devolved into "put it in the damn pantry and close the door."

So, I got out some large trash bags, a broom & dustpan, steam mop, and a magic eraser and went to town. I picked up all the detritus off the floor and swept up all the fallen animal crackers, pet food nuggets, and dead june bugs. At this point, my cat threw herself across the trash pile and vehemently objected to my harshness in judging these items “trash” and not “snacks.”

I found two small appliances that we haven’t used in the entirety of our marriage that other family members would love to have, and quite a few out-of-date canned goods. Can you tell I don’t use canned goods very often at all? I believe my supply is considered “ridiculous at best.” I threw away old cracker boxes with a handful of smashed crackers in the bottom, tea I never drink, etc. While I was doing this, Cancer Thoughts™ creeped in and started asking me who would grocery shop if I wasn’t around? Would Gerald know the kid’s favorite kind of Cheez-It? (Scrabble, fyi.) Would I outlast this can of black beans that expires in 2014? So, I kicked it up a notch and got out the magic eraser and scrubbed years of honey residue and god-knows-what-else off the shelves.

I stood back to admire my work and thought, “I may have cancer, but check out my kick-ass pantry! Who gives a shit about Janky Boob™ when you could eat off the floor in there?” Mission: accomplished.

After:

Check that floor, bishes!

So if you’ve got a home organizational need, call me. I’ve got about 30 more hours of waiting and a fresh box of magic erasers.

My lovely lady lumps*

*artist’s rendering

Yesterday, I lamented on twitter that I wanted to be able to show you my boob without showing you my boob. The fabulous @meanliving gave me the suggestion of drawing it in Paint for you. Since I have a Mac, you won’t be getting Paint. You’re getting WriteboardMac.

1. This was by boob before the surgery.

2. This is the incision and two loops of sutures that are outside my boob. (The rest of the sutures are in two layers and underneath the skin.)

3. Then, my entire areola is covered in blue super glue.

4. As of yesterday, I’ve developed lots of bruising and some minor bloody leakage.

5. Also, there’s a significant amount of swelling.

6. Which is obvious because my boob no longer fits into any of my bras. It smooshes out on the side, almost in my armpit, and on top. It’s fairly unattractive.

No, I don’t really own an orange bra. But it looks pretty good on me up there. Perhaps I need to research this further.

Ridiculous

* I hugged and kissed my kids a little more today. I even held Maddie in my lap and told her how much I loved her. (To space and Heaven and back TWO times, in case you’re curious.) I reminded her that I will always love her, no matter what happens and asked her to promise me that she’ll never, ever forget that. (Over-dramatic much? No, not me!) Of course, she promised in one breath and with the next was asking to play Hungry, Hungry, Hippos.

* I consider the things I would want to do for my husband and kids, should my time be more limited than I anticipate. Videos, letters, keepsakes. I think about a Radio Lab podcast I once listened to about a girl who’s mother died when she was young. Her mom had written a letter for each of her daughter’s birthdays and milestones. The daughter talked about how those letters eventually came to be something she dreaded. Instead of a tangible reminder of her mother’s love, they became a heavy chain that bound her to the past and made her incapable of moving forward. I remember the pain evident in the daughter’s voice as she recounts the letters’ contents, and I decide not to write letters to my kids.

* I worry about waking up from the anesthesia and the doctor telling me that she’s certain it’s cancer and talk of radiation and chemotherapy.

* I worry about becoming The Poor Young Mother with Cancer.

* In short, I am spending the last 36 hours before my surgery being completely and utterly ridiculous.

But, to be fair, I’m also thinking about these two women and how much I adored my weekend with them.

Manicure Tips

You guys, I’m obsessed with fun manicures these days. (Have you seen my Pinterest board?) Well, after weeks of playing around, here are some tips that I’d like to share in case you’re inspired to try some of your own funky new styles.

1. Removal of dark or staining polish: I have this gorgeous cerulean blue polish that I adore. Unfortunately, it stains both my nails and skin. I’ve discovered that soaking a small square of cotton pad with acetone remover and then wrapping the pad onto my finger with a strip of aluminum foil and letting them soak for 5 minutes will remove almost 99% of the polish without rubbing. This minimizes contact with skin, so no staining there. It also removes the polish so efficiently from my nail that there’s minimal staining there as well. A few quick swipes with a light buffer and a coat of cuticle oil and you’re good as new.

2. Cuticle remover gel really does work. I used to use nippers to tame my wayward cuticles, but always ended up taking too much and cutting myself. I now use Sally Hansen Instant Cuticle Remover Gel and then gently push them back. Doing this twice a week after a shower has made a drastic improvement in my cuticle’s waywardness.

3. Scotch tape makes a fantastic tool. When your base color and top coat are COMPLETELY dry, you can tape off portions of your nail in order to apply another color. Once that’s dry, too, you can tape off both colors and do it a third time. It’s an easy and cheap way to experiment and see what you can create.

4. You don’t have to spend the money on a top-shelf polish if you invest in a nicer top coat. I like to get the Sinful Colors polish at Walgreens when they’re on sale 2/$3. These go on really well and have a nice brush for even distribution of color; however, they wear/chip within a day, usually. Using this one, again by Sally Hansen, and refreshing every other day, my polish can last upwards of a week, easily. (Not that I typically keep it on that long. I usually change it every two days out of boredom.)

If you’re playing around with your manicures or want to start, please let me know. I’d love to see what you’re doing!

P.S. This post is in no way sponsored by Sally Hansen. They have no idea who I am. I just really dig their products.

The only post regarding BlogHer that you’ll have to endure from me.

Listen, I KNOW. Either you’re not going to BlogHer because you don’t give a shit about it or actively hate it, or you wish you were going and don’t want to read all the shit people who are going are talking about. I get that. I really do. So, this will be the only post I write about BlogHer. And it’s really short, too.

I want to know if you’re going and if you’d like to try and meet up. I’m planning on attending the Sparklecorn party on Friday night, Aiming Low and CheeseburgHer on Saturday night. I’ll be in San Diego all day on Sunday, if anyone would like to be touristy with me. I’ve never been to California and I plan to make the most of my free day before I come home on Monday.

So, email me if you’d like to witness my awesomeness in person. Or, you know, point and laugh. Whatev.
erica @ andnoplacetogo dot com

Seriously?!

Having my appendix out in March helped me reach my maximum out-of-pocket with my health insurance, so I decided to make all my dreary, but necessary, doctor’s appointments before the end of the year so they wouldn’t cost me anything. You know, boobs, gynecologist, eye exam and dermatologist. Appointments that I typically skip because MEH.

Yesterday I went to the dermatologist for the first time in three years. (I’m fair-skinned, freckled and blue-eyed and never wore sunscreen as a wee girl. I don’t go for vanity’s sake. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.) There are three spots on my scalp that have been bothersome and I figured it was best to get them check out. You know, since it was FREE. I’ve had a vanilla dermal cyst removed from my scalp, so I thought these would be more of the same. Oh, HA HA HA.

The dermatologist looked and poked and prodded and then said, in his most caring and serious voice, that they looked suspiciously like basal cell carcinoma. As he was explaining that they needed to be excised and biopsied, I burst into tears because COME ON, NOW. Understandably, the doctor was a little taken aback, as I’m sure this isn’t the typical patient reaction. I explained about my janky boob and OF COURSE he asked to see it. So, I whipped it right the hell out and he poked and prodded and asked me to explain what all had been done up to that point. He agreed with the oncologist’s plan, and wants me to come in for the scalp excisions six weeks after the Janky Boob Procedure (yes, that IS a medical term so shut it.) to make sure I’m all healed up before he cuts divots out of my head.

I get that basal cell carcinoma is no big deal and like a million, billion people get it all the time. Really, I do. I’m not trying to be overly dramatic (it comes naturally, trust me.) or pathetic about it. But hearing that you may have two different kinds of cancer TWICE in ONE WEEK is a little damn much. I feel like I’m either A.) working of some seriously bad karma, B.) being tested like it’s Old Testament times or C.) being punk’d. No es bueno.

I woke up this morning incredibly depressed and maudlin and that just won’t do. I can’t just lie down and take it. I’ve got children to care for, a house to run and a job to work every night. This alleged cancer is just going to have to suck it up and get on the ride with the rest of us.

Design on Zero Dimes

Being a one and a half income family of four, there’s not much money left over for things like decorating the house. And by not much, I mean ZERO MONIES are available for decorating the house. I’ll admit, before I had kids, I was house proud. I loved decorating and redecorating. I was on a first name basis with the staff at Pier One and Pottery Barn. Nowadays, I settle for a clean(ish) house that has all toys put away every night at bedtime. (Only to be up to my knees in toys by 8:00 am the next morning, of course. But while we’re all asleep? It looks FABULOUS.)

Lately, I’ve been craving a change so I took a look around and repurposed some of our existing decor and used some things that were just sitting around. I was able to change both kids’ rooms and their bathroom without spending a single penny out of pocket. The only thing that cost me imaginary money was the ink and paper I used to print some pictures. I was lucky to stumble across Indie Fixx’s Feed Your Soul Art Project and I printed out some for Sam and let Maddie choose her own. My decorating style used to be pretty matchy (but not matchy-matchy) but for Maddie’s room, I let her pick just about everything, decor-wise. I picked the furniture, but just about every other aspect is her choice. So, you’ll notice the pictures don’t match each other or follow a cohesive theme, but we’re cool with that. We love them and that’s all that counts.

Don’t pretend you don’t want to see pictures, Gladys Kravitz.

The kids’ bathroom was already decorated with Swell linens so it was bright and cheery. I found some wall decals in Maddie’s closet that I had gotten from Ikea to match her toddler bedding and they matched perfectly with our colors. Maddie helped choose the location for all the stickers and both kids really like it.

This is Maddie's favorite part

These are water animals, so they have to be by the bathtub, according to Maddie.

Sam’s room used to be decorated in Classic Winnie the Pooh, but he’s too old for that business. Since I don’t want to put too much time and money into decorating his room until he’s old enough to tell me what he likes, I just did the bare minimum to make me happy.

I made letters for Maddie when she was a baby, so of course, Sam got them, too.

I ended up moving the duck picture right underneath the birds on swings. It helps Sam stay stil long enough for a diaper change.

Over the crib, but high enough to avoid grabby hands.

Over the love seat.

Sam loves ducks and while coloring with Maddie, she asked for me to color her a picture to hang in her room. Sam got one too.

Maddie’s room:

Here's Maddie's coloring page. All colors were requested.

These letters used to be green apple green, but Maddie requested that they be pink, so I repainted them.

Which part “feels good?”

I was reading my patient plan forms that the doctor gave me yesterday and saw this at the bottom of the page:

The Boob Drama Continues…

I met with my oncologist this morning and while looking at my janky boob, she made a face comprised of equal parts disgust and horror. This is never a look you want to see on a doctor’s face, trust me. I started laughing, then crying and yelled that she wasn’t being very helpful with that face.

Here’s what that face meant: I’m having surgery on 8/11. (Due to both of us being in San Diego at the same time, the surgery will have to be after BlogHer. I am not broken up about that in the least.) The procedures I’m having are a major duct excision to get rid of all the ducts under the nipple-areolar complex and a few punch biopsies of the nipple itself. The doctor is concerned that I’ve got either Paget’s Disease of the Breast or DCIS.

The good news is that my MRI from a few months ago came back all clear, so if it does turn out to be cancer it hasn’t spread anywhere beyond the nipple-areolar complex and both of these types of cancers are pretty easy to treat. In the scheme of things, this is a pretty good diagnosis and not terrible at all; however, in my head it’s CANCER OMG I’M GOING TO LOSE MY HAIR OR DIE AND GERALD WILL BE LEFT TO RAISE OUR CHILDREN ALONE AND MY BABIES WON’T HAVE A MOMMA AND I KNOW HOW MUCH THAT SUCKS AND OMG CANCER!!!!!!

But, we all know I’m prone to freaking the fuck out at the drop of a hat, so I’m taking it with a grain of salt.

I really, truly appreciate those of you who sent kind words and well-wishes on twitter this morning. I was all alone at the hospital, but not really because you were all there with me. That meant the world to me. Thank you.