Why is there an egg in bed with me?

So last night I hopped into bed, and an egg rolled out of my sheets. Not a big egg, this was the size of a Robin's egg. It was white, and spotted with brown. So I picked it up, but it was too soft to be an egg. So, being my father's daughter, I sniffed it. It smelled like cinnamon. I smushed it in my fingers a little bit, and realized what it was. I had brought my lunch out, and set my snack on the plate with it and then got distracted. My cat, Jake, sensing an opportunity, grabbed it, and ran. He then, licked all of the cinnamon off of the outside, and left me with a naked Irish Potato.

Knock those hooters around!

When I had my mastectomy, I had the implants put in at the same time that they removed the cancer. But the implants they put in, were inflatables. Yeah. Once a week, the doctor would add some saline to inflate the expander, which would stretch the skin. I guess about four months later they'd remove the inflatables, (the expanders), and replace them with the saline implants. So I was actually gonna be leaving the hospital flat chested. The thought of THAT devastated me. Those of you who knew me, remember my bra size. As far at I was concerned, to go from THAT, to flat chested was worse than the cancer. I couldn't even imagine how awful it would be to leave the hospital with that part of my body amputated. Oh. I laughed. I joked. I had people placing bets - Feeling me up, then guessing how much they weighed. (9 pounds) But, underneath I was having panic attacks. It was too awful to think about. Enter Missy. Bless her heart. She knitted me boobies. Yes. She. Did. She found a pattern online. And made me "Knitted Knockers" Crocheted breast prosthetics. So that I wouldn't have to leave the hospital flat chested. How adorable is that? This was all almost 10 years ago. The inflatables didn't inflate. I got deathly MRSA in one side. (This has NEVER happened before) Story of my life. I had to have that one pulled out. Then when they thought the MRSA was gone they put it back in. I got MRSA again. (This has NEVER happened before) So, I had both sides pulled out. And I walked out of the hospital Flat chested. But finally out of pain. The Knitted Knockers were put in a drawer. with the mastectomy bra, and forgotten about. Until last week. All of a sudden I noticed one of the Knockers was lying in a different area of my house, every few hours. That's when I realized my cats were playing "bat the boobie around".

But why can't a GUILLOTINE go through airport security?

My Mom, dad, and I, go through Kindles like water. My Amazon account is now up to like: "Julie's 7th Kindle". My mom didn't like the touch screen, so I bought her the Kindle 4, where you press the buttons on the side to turn the pages. I came up from the ocean and plopped my beach chair right down on the Kindle, cracking the screen in half. I bought a Kindle Fire for my cousin in the Masonic Home, but she didn't use it once. It sits in my room haunting me. This Christmas my dad had his Kindle Paperwhite stolen out of the lost and found at Myrtle Beach TSA. He decided to take this bagel cutter, (that was a gift) in his carry-on luggage. And couldn't understand why they wouldn't let him take it on the plane. TSA made him go back through security and have them put it in his checked luggage. He's explaining this to us, and was mystified that they made him surrender it. This! Bagel cutter! A GUILLOTINE! With a 4 inch triangular pointy knife. Dad! Seriously! He said, "But it had the plastic around the knife" OK. Because plastic can't be stepped on and broken. And that lethal knife pulled out, and used to take a plane down. OHHHhhh...... So. He had to go BACK through TSA to Spirit, where the woman at the counter (after giving him a raised eyebrow) had to run in the back, find his luggage, and put the GUILLOTINE in there. Then my dad had to go BACK through security, take his Kindle out of his carry-on, and put it on the machine. But, he was so flustered over the whole "GUILLOTINE" incident, that he forgot to grab the Kindle And he didn't remember it until AFTER he was in my car, and at my brother's house, and then still, until he was back at my house. Where we all searched diligently for it, with no luck. When they got home and he went through TSA, he realized that maybe, with "GUILLOTINE-GATE", he had forgotten it there. So he searched, and asked, and looked in Lost and Found, but it was gone. Someone had helped themself to a paperwhite Kindle. Merry Thieving Christmas to them. Fortunately, I had my mom's touchscreen Kindle to send to him. It doesn't light up. But it's a Kindle. "Julie's 8th Kindle."

Can i be a "bag lady" in this day and age?

I just had to run to Walgreens to pick up photos. And, it being a lazy Sunday, OR, me, being lazy, on a Sunday didn't feel like getting dressed. So I threw on a pair of sweatshorts over my longjohns, and an Avalon sweatshirt over my pajama top, and a ripped Polo ball cap on, and left the house. It was the ugliest-ass outfit you ever saw. Never mind the fact that the sweatshorts are Ralph Lauren, They're sweatshorts! And GREY. Ugly. And my longjohns have blood on them down the calf because I neglected to notice that I cut my leg. And when I bleed, it's a murder scene. And I didn't comprehend the hideousness of my outfit, until it was staring at me in the reflection of the Walgreens door. And I realized I looked like a bag lady. Except in this "Oh So Sensitive" Politically Correct climate, I couldn't say that. So I decided that the new term is "Big Brown Bag American". But watch. Even though Bloomingdales has had that term forever Someone will object to the use of "brown".