Last year, I did the obligatory I wear flip flops all day/I have weird habits like brushing my teeth all the dang time/Squee!!! BlogHer!!! Post. Since then, my nickname hasn’t changed, nor has my affinity for comfy footwear and the occasional high heels. Therefore I thought I’d just get down to what you all really want to know…what makes me turn bitchy.
Generally speaking, I’m a pretty chipper person. I definitely see the cup half full and I’m always looking for silver linings. HOWEVER, there are a few things that will make me not so pleased…
- I broke my shin playing soccer when I was 16. I was in a full-leg cast for a few weeks, then a cast up to my knee for another couple of months. It sucked. It especially sucked because I was told after the cast was off that I had to have surgery to rebreak my leg and insert a metal rod and a few screws to straighten it out. When I had that surgery later in the fall, something screwy happened and that muscle that runs along my shin now sticks out like a golf ball when it’s flexed. Because of this I wear pants or jeans a lot – even in the 100 degree heat here in Sacramento. If you see me in jeans, please don’t ask me if I’m hot. Yes, I’m hot. It’s New York in August and I’m in jeans. A few years ago I got up the nerve to start wearing skirts. And then the “OMG, what happened to your leg?” comments started. Don’t do that. I don’t like it. I’ll be nice about it. I’ll be cordial. I promise I won’t go off on you. (See #2) But it will annoy me. And to answer your questions: No I didn’t sue the doctor, I’m not even sure if he did something wrong or if this was going to happen no matter what. No, it doesn’t hurt. Yes, you can feel it (it’s squishy) but only if you don’t say, “Ewww” or, “That’s so weird” or, “Oh my gawd” afterwards which is basically the same thing as me saying No, you can’t feel it. Yes/No/I don’t know if it’s fixable. If it is – which is a big if, it isn’t medically necessary so insurance won’t pay for it and I can’t really envision a time in my life when I would ever prioritize getting my leg fixed over something like a diamond ring or an awesome vacation with my kids or a boob job (yeah, I said it, I nursed two kids for more than a year each…I could use a pick-me-up). If you’d like to pay for it, however, I’d happily accept your donation.
No, you can’t dry hump it. Yes, I was (jokingly, of course) asked this question before. Yes, I gave the person who asked it the same answer. No, you won’t be getting special treatment. - When DJ or B-Bop come to us to tattle, they always, ALWAYS hear the same thing from me and Scoot: “You worry about you.” We say this because we firmly believe that there will always be people in their lives whose actions and reactions they cannot control. This is the same with us adults too. The only thing we have any control over is how we react to a situation. If you want to complain about cliques and drama and parties and swag, please know that I don’t particularly want to hear it. I’ll listen if you need to vent (I’m not a total bitch), but I won’t be as upset about it as you are and it might get old to me after a not-so-long while. If you want to ruin your trip to one of the most expensive, interesting, beautiful cities in the world by worrying about other people, feel free. I, on the other hand, will be worrying about me. I will be with people who I want to be with (including, sometimes spending time by myself…see #3), doing what I want to do and having a blast. This is my general approach to life and it’s served me well so far, so I’m just going to stick with it.
- You have no control over this, but my super good attitude woohoo approach to life tends to expire after 3 days away from home. It’s no one’s fault. It’s just how I am. I leave home on Tuesday, I get home late Monday. You do the math. I’m going to try real hard to not turn into a royal bitch by Saturday but if I decide to just have some chill time by myself, please know it’s not you, it’s me. I promise you I’m not shunning you forever. I’m probably on the phone with my boys or taking a nap or wandering around the hotel by myself. It’s ok. We’ll both be ok. I promise chipper me will be back momentarily so just carry on and I’ll let you know when she is.
- I get overtired. I need sleep and a lot of it. I do best with 8 hours a night. On weekends I add a nap to that mix. If I don’t get my 8 hours, everything listed above will be exacerbated. I do have control over this. I will do my best to prevent this, but it’s probably inevitable. Nothing that a good nap won’t fix, though.
I think I’ll just stop before you think I’m a very big bitch. I promise you, I’m not. 99.9% of you that I meet will not encounter bitchy Emmie at all while we’re in New York. But for the .1% of you who might maybe might (you know who you are), please allow me to say in advance I’m sorry.
Now stop staring at my leg.








