Crippled for 3 Weeks, Scarred for Life

I ordered a dresser and nightstand to my new apartment and unfortunately was not home when it got delivered.  The night stand probably weighs 200lbs in the box and it so hard to move.  I’m pretty strong, even on crutches.  It was delivered to my back door so I went to bring it inside and couldn’t.  It was hanging off the back stoop and I couldn’t get enough leverage to prop it up over the kitchen ledge to push it in.  I tried ditching the crutches and getting on my hands and knees to simultaneously lift and shove forward but it would not move.  I looked like a fool. I had a lot of witnesses.

These construction workers were watching and laughing until finally one of them as walking nearby enough where I asked for help.  He hesitated but agreed while his fellow workers continued laughing and telling him (in Spanish) to “help the girl with the box.”

That’s me.

So this guy comes on over to push this box into my apartment and as soon as he bends over to lift, two things happened.  1. He says in his cute little accent, “it is heavy” and 2. my face gets exposed to his ass for a solid 15 seconds as his coworkers watch and giggle.  I was on crutches and had nowhere to move.  I tried to stare away but it amplified the awkwardness that this man with two legs was also struggling to bring this giant box into my apartment.  So I did what anyone would do in this situation.  I just stared at the ass.

And boy, did it stare back.

Lessons Learned From Going Under the Knife…

It’s been a while since I’ve enlightened you all on my life, mainly because I’ve been miserable and helpless for just over 2 weeks now.  I had ankle surgery December 5th and never realized how valuable your limbs are until you can’t use them.  I am grateful that this is only temporary and my respect level for those who have permanent limb loss has gone up astronomically but I’ve encountered many situations in where having 2 legs would’ve been a hell of a lot easier.

Here are the top 5 things that I’ve taken for granted while having 2 functioning legs that I now respect the shit out of…

  1. Taking showers AND taking fast showers

I’ve transitioned from one-legged bathing to one-legged showers now and I’ve never felt my right glute burn more than it does in those 20 minutes.  Thanks to my dear friend Nicole, I have a giant shower bag that protects my incision from getting wet but damn if you ever need to cause someone physical pain, make them stand on one leg for elongated periods of time (while trying to shave that one leg).

2. Going to the bathroom

I thought I held my pee long times while teaching but this doesn’t compare.  I’ve refused to go to the bathroom simply because the thought of getting up, getting on the crutches, and hobbling my way to the bathroom is SO MUCH WORK.

3.  Cooking/Baking/Crockpotting/Making Coffee/ALL KITCHEN UTILIZATION

I didn’t cook much before I had surgery but now, forget about it.  I cut a container of strawberries the other day and wanted to cry because standing on one foot was like doing single leg squats on a balance beam.  I’ve ordered delivery for dinner every single night for the past week.  The key, however, is to order enough for lunch the next day too.

4. Doing Laundry

My dad did my laundry two weeks ago.  I’m 29 years old.  The end.

5. Going to the gynocologist

The assistant asked to take my weight and I refused because I said my boot weighed too much and I could only stand on one foot.  She just said “okay.”  Then in the patient room, I had to take off my boot so that my foot could fit in the stirrups so I could get my proper exam.  Good thing I won’t be going back there for a year.

Needless to say, there are so many things I can’t believe become this much more difficult when you can’t walk.  I feel like I will become a better person, future housewife, and female after this experience is over.

Proof that I’m not lying and just playing on crutches for fun




The Countdowns are Upon Us

Thanksgiving is still a day and a half away but people are already counting down until Christmas and New Years.  I would like to countdown until I no longer have to work or make my own doctors appointments.

The difficult part of working through short weeks is that you experience this awkward lack of groceries phase.  You’re not home long enough to make thorough grocery runs but you also need enough to not starve.  Last night, as a 29 year old adult, I ended up grocery shopping, unintentionally, at the Rite Aid across the street even though I have a Harris Teeter and a Giant less than a mile away.

What I bought at Rite Aid (for my 1.5 days of work and meals left):

  1. Box of Special K Cinnamon Crunch Cereal
  2. Eye liner (that I already lost)
  3. Beef jerky (which was gross)
  4. Bag of pretzels half of which were lunch)
  5. Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough Ice Cream Sandwiches
  6. Twix bar (last night’s dinner)
  7. Bagel Bites (also last night’s dinner)
  8. Travel Size Q-Tips

What I actually went in there for?  Gum; to get cash back.

Nash Bash and a Little Less Class

I went to Nashville this past weekend which also coincided with my 29th birthday.  Here are a couple things that weren’t supposed to happen…

  1. I was supposed to run the Nashville Half on Saturday but after being told I may need surgery on my ankle, I decided to opt out of the race.  Okay Kara, smart decision.  Right? Wrong.  Not running Saturday=more drinking Friday.  This was supposed to be a laid back, “chill” night.  HAHA no.  I’d share my dancing videos with you but I will keep the shame to myself.  I will share a picture with my beautiful friend though.IMG_4063  She lives in Minnesota and we met in South Africa.  We reunited in Nashville, so cool right!? That’s why traveling rocks!

2. It’s been a while since I’ve taken shots while being out.   I now have a conversation with myself before I go out saying, “you will not take shots tonight.”  It’s been working.   I would like to attribute this decision to adulthood and my body hating me the day after.  Saturday night, my brain said “hell yeah let’s be 21 again”.  Sunday morning, my body said “screw you, you’re 29 fool.” I won’t be doing that again for a while.

3. My one goal of the entire weekend was to not be hungover for the plane ride home on Sunday.  That goal was not accomplished.  In fact, the first thing my Uber driver said to me on the way to the airport was, “ma’am, are you okay?” No, I’m not okay.  I want to die.

…However, all this means is that I love Nashville and I want to go back.  I just need more supervision.  Our Airbnb was awesome, so convenient, and very spacious.  Lower Broadway is also never a dull moment and I saw some things on the streets that my eyes will never recover from. I love all the live music and the artists are so talented.  It always amazes me how each bar and each floor of each bar has a different live band and it never bleeds together.  It makes me want to dance like a fool with drunken eyes every time.  So I do.

Oops I did it again….

So, I’m going to Copenhagen, Denmark.

I think I posted like two hours ago that I had nothing planned.  Then I googled, Groupon-ed (is that a word?), and groveled to my friends.  Okay, I didn’t grovel but I did FaceTime my friend in England about coming to visit her.  England turned into Copenhagen which turned into January which is now officially booked.

I decided to take advantage of a couple days of no students (no sub needed) and give myself an early birthday present.  I honestly googled random flights all over until something reasonable came up.  Copenhagen was under $500 in January, including paying for seats and carry-ons.  I couldn’t pass that up.  I may have to shove a lot of things into a small bag but it’s worth it right!? Plus, it’ll be winter so a pair of leggings and jeans is all I need! And a coat…definitely a coat.

Now, I must convince all my other friends to be crazy too (fade out of evil laugher muahahaha).


Tuesday Thoughts

Today is one of those days that I have a zillion things on my mind of just stuff I want to do, places I want to go, races I want to sign up for, people I want to see…and I can’t lock down any of it.  Typical crazy me.  I feel pretty accomplished right now (for a Tuesday, not for life) and want to continue fueling the fire.  Since my ankle still sucks, I haven’t been able to run so I started going to these cycle classes, which have been fun.  So I did that this morning, grabbed coffee, and then went to vote all by 11:00am and I feel pretty empowered.  I have never followed politics or been a fan of politics my entire life.  I probably (definitely) would fail the citizenship test if given it but thanks to my friends who teach government at school, I feel much more educated in the past couple years than ever in my life.  So, I feel pretty empowered and naturally when I’m on a confidence high I do one of two things (or both).  I either plan my next vacation and spontaneously book something lavish I can’t afford OR I sign up for my next half or full marathon. which I still can’t afford.

Now, I haven’t done any of those yet for a couple reasons but I can honestly say I spend 99% of my time on the computer researching places to travel and run, or both at the same time.  The other 1% I spend paying bills or finding ways to avoid paying bills because I’m poor as fuck.  I never win.  I bought this nice new Mac so I would stop using my old and slow work computer for everything.  However, I didn’t realize that the Mac still tells me how poor I am, it just does so at a much quicker rate (thanks Apple).  Don’t worry I financed it; HA HA no teacher has $1,000 for a new laptop. We’d still be using typewriters if parents wouldn’t harass us for breaking the grading timeline policies.

Anyway, I’m thinking somewhere crazy over Christmas break while I have more time off and maybe somewhere in Europe to visit my best friend from college over MLK weekend or President’s Day Weekend.  WHO KNOWS, my brain is everywhere.  To be continued…

As far as my next race goes, my ankle still sucks.  I am running the Nashville half marathon this Saturday despite the opposition working against me but it’s my last race I have booked until it heels fully so why not right? There are so many good races out there and after watching the NYC marathon on T.V. it really motivates me to try and run it.  It’s just too expensive for me, I think.  I’d rather spend $300 (or whatever the race is) on a plane ticket somewhere else.  I’m intrigued by the Little Rock Marathon, Flying Pig, and the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon all in the early/mid spring.  I DON’T KNOW! Suggestions?? Help. SOS. (insert little running emoji here)

My last thought I have to share is that I just got eyelash extensions for the 2nd time this weekend and I feel really pretty despite not showering in two days and eating copious Pizza Hut on Sunday night (probably the cause of the increase in break outs on my face).  It was so good.  I don’t hate it.



Sunday Scaries

Halloween weekend turned gluttonous…real bad.  Unlike most college students who woke up this morning to do the walk of shame in last night’s Halloween costume, I woke up with fast food shame.  I NEVER eat “fast food” or places that have a drive-thru available after 11pm (this is why Chipotle, Panera, and most pizza places are in the clear).  In my Uber ride home from a colleague’s Halloween party (came from a concert, didn’t wear a costume) I tried to optimize time by ordering Dominos in the car so it would be delivered by the time I got home.  This did not work.  I got home around 1 A.M. and put on some sweats and slippers.  For whatever reason the Halloween gods cursed me with, I thought it’d be a great idea to walk to McDonalds.  The last time I ate Mcdonalds was maybe 5 years ago and another few years or so before that.  It was like my legs were hungry and my brain couldn’t control them.  Don’t worry, the story doesn’t end there.

As I am walking to McDonalds I quickly come to my senses, turn around and go back home.  GREAT! I’m so smart. Kidding.  I got home again just to say screw it and turn around to walk back to McDonalds.  My legs won again.  On my walk, my 5 minute walk, I had the brilliant idea to call Dominos.  Yes, I repeat, on the walk to McDonalds, I called to order pizza from Dominos (which I learned this afternoon, was also across the street).  So, I called, ordered a large cheese pizza and an order of breadsticks.  Why? Because apparently I thought I was also calling fucking Pizza Hut (my true fav).  So I had pizza and fake breadsticks being delivered and my body was still heading towards McDonalds.

“Can I have a medium fry and a 10-piece nugget?”

15 minutes of being surrounded by drunken college fools in McDonalds, I looked like a saint.  The cashier gave me my order before all of theirs and I ate all the nuggets before I even got home.  Just as I sat down and indulged in my french fries, the doorbell rang and my second meal arrived.  Already full from shame and salt, I pitied the lonesome pizza that never needed to be ordered in the first place and ate two slices before going to bed.

I did not receive the breadsticks I ordered.  I did receive a box of garlic knot type triangles.  I love you Pizza Hut.

I woke up today ashamed of my actions.  I still am.

The Power of Love (and Ibuprofen)

Last weekend my friends and I ran the St. George Marathon in St. George, Utah.  One of my friends has been dying to run this race for a long time so we learned that the 2017 race fell over Columbus Day Weekend (one less day us poor teachers have to use a personal day) we decided to make it our fall marathon of choice and also make it a wild weekend. How does one make a weekend wild? You go to Vegas.  We had this entire trip planned out for about 6 months because when a marathon is involved, your weekend decisions need to be strategic.

We spent a couple days in St. George leading up to the race and then immediately high tailed it to Las Vegas where we spent three nights.  It’s been a week since our return and I’m still questioning how we survived.  Then again, I don’t know if we actually did.  For starters, I was 4 weeks post partially tearing ligaments in my ankle and hadn’t run in those 4 weeks.  I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to crawl across the finish line.  Literally, I thought about it.  Second of all, we had a very busy schedule.

We enjoyed the Mormon land of Utah where we stayed up late researching and watching “what is Mormonism?” videos to help understand why anyone would want to relinquish alcohol or coffee from their lives.  We still are unclear on that part but we do know how a Mormon divorce works.  We had a family dinner before we embarked on yet another 5 hour trek filled with sweat, sunburn, and chaffing asscheeks.

The race is over.  We can’t walk.  We recap the moments we thought we died and the moment we wish we died.  Then, we hop in our rented minivan and head to the Sin City.  So many endless possibilities of things to do and see in this vibrant, never sleeping city.  We just ran a 26.2 mile race and my ankle is throbbing.  I have a blister on each toe, cut skin from my ankle brace, and salt and ibuprofen stains on my leggings that look like I jumped in a pool of cocaine.  What could we possible do with our evening after such a morning victory?



Titanic was the the sole reason I became extremely interested in cruise ships, icebergs, and Leonardo DiCaprio.  It was the inspiration behind my 3rd grade talent show where I played My Heart Will Go On on piano as my audience sang in unison to the tune.  The anticipation of hearing Celine begin that song was so intense that as soon as the stage lights turned blue and that so popular beginning flute hymn began, I cried.  It was an array of emotions between my childhood memories and the fact that there was real water falling on stage.  And just like that, I begin questioning why Jack had to die? Why couldn’t Jack float on top of that door with Rose? They were young.  He was a gentleman.

Neither of them were physicists.


Hanson at 9 vs. Hanson at 28

I just went to see Hanson (yes THE Hanson Brothers) perform as part of their 25 year anniversary tour.  It was AMAZING! I was 9 years old when I last saw them and seeing them again just reminded me why the 90s were the best.  I never thought I’d see the day that I would get to dance along to MMMBop  live, again.  It truly was a dream come true.  I mean, here I am 20 years later and it was like they never took a music hiatus to have 100 kids.   I also came to a few realizations.

  • When I was 9, I thought Zac Hanson at age 12 was WAY too old for me and never thought I had a chance.  Now at 28, I realize Zac was in fact the perfect age and I should’ve tried harder to win him over.  Also, I assumed at 12 he was a player and I couldn’t compete with the other young girls.  He was 12.
  • When I began obsessing over Hanson in the 3rd grade, I learned that Zac’s birthday was at the end of October and my birthday was the beginning of November.  I therefore thought we were meant to be.  I now know that the proximity of our birthdays to each other has nothing to do with our possible compatibility as lovers.
  • When I was 9, I thought that it was cool they were from Tulsa, Oklahoma and that Tulsa was just like New York City only smaller.  Now, I realize nobody cool lives in Oklahoma (but I still love them).
  • I used to write love letters to Hanson, mostly Zac, about how I loved them and how I’m a true fan because I didn’t just love them for their looks, but for how musically talented they were.  I now realize that, yet again, they were only bout 12, 14, and 17 when I direly wanted them to notice me and couldn’t even drive yet; or go to an R-rated movie.
  • When I was 9, I didn’t know what MMMBop meant and now, almost 29, I still don’t.  Except, when I googled it, and then I remembered.

I still love Hanson.  I now have their Middle of Nowhere Greatest Hits album playing nonstop in my car.  I have my friends loving on them too.   I. Love. Hanson. That’s all there is to it.  MMBOP forever.



A Slow September Start…

Does anyone feel like it’s been September for much longer than 19 days? I don’t know if it’s because we went back to school a week earlier this year or if that’s just how my life is moving at this moment but I just want the date to be anything but September right now.  Each week that begins, I think “hey, we’re moving right along!” but no.  We’re not.  We haven’t been paid since the end of June.  At this point I’m hoping to use monopoly money to pay my bills.  We still don’t get paid for TEN DAYS!! I felt really bad because tonight, a group of students were having a bake sale to raise money for their club.  I didn’t even have a dollar on me to donate.  I offered different forms of foreign currency I found in my wallet but that didn’t go over well.  Don’t worry kids, pay day will be here soon.  Just kidding.  It’s never coming.  Winter is coming but pay day is not.

For some reason I keep thinking this week is the last week in September.  I have caught myself on numerous occasions saying, “guys, October is next week already!” as if the first month of school flew by.  Then I’m like, “oh wait, it’s not.  Great.”  WHERE ARE THE SNOW DAYS ALREADY PEOPLE!  Last Friday, a transformer blew and caused a fire near our baseball field.  Everyone was okay, but it obviously turned off power in the school and we received a late email stating the power was out and to stay tuned.  Third week of school was about to finish, and we were all doing the close school dance.  Over a power outage.  Who does that? Who hopes for the power to remain out for all eternity?  Let’s just say, we teachers need a break already.