Friday, July 6, 2012

A Bum Deal...







***apparently blogspot still REALLY wants me to move to wordpress because for some reason I can't put spaces in to seperate paragraphs. I am not as run on and inept as I appear. Usually***** oh wait I figured it out. Nevermind.







*****

I am going to preface this blog by telling you that it's pretty TMI. And by YOU I mean my mom, my grandma, anyone in my extended family that rolls their eyes (but still reads this) and the friends of my kids on facebook who friended me and I didn't remember to block yet.

If this kind of thing bothers you, then you need to be my guest and click the X because I'm not tolerating any complaints. YOU HEAR ME, SON??

So, day before yesterday, I'd had a long day and I decided to unwind with some new bath salts I got. Because I love bubble baths and bath salts and calgon take me away and all of that crap that probably doesn't even really do anything except get me all slippery. But whatever, that's not the point.

I love Burt's Bee's everything, so when they had that theraputic bath salt that promised to relieve stressful joints and relieve stress with that menthol-y smell I was sold. I have never had a problem and I am not hating on Burt's Bees.

So I pour a capful just like it says into the tub (because too many salt rocks aren't comfy in a bath, especialy since there's oil and you kind of slide around on the tub floor, it's really a good idea to stick to the right "dosage" if you will)

I sit in the bath and I'm like, ooh how relaxing it's kind of tingly all over.

Oh wait.

It's kind of hot now.

Wait, that doesn't feel good.

Panic.

All my sensitive areas below the waist are on fire, RED ALERT GET OUT OF THE BATH TUB NOW! Especially my, um, butt. Like my actual. Anyway whatever, you're the one who kept reading. This isn't really my problem anymore.

So I come blasting out of the bathtub like the kool-aid man and my husband is thinking I probably got the bath water too hot again and was making a run for the fan. Where I will desperately cool off and sometimes fall asleep while waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. No sympathy because I never learn.

NO NO NO HOT!!

"When are you going to stop doing that?"

"MY BUTT!!!"

"What?"

"Bath salt! Burn!"

"What? (laughs)" That doesn't make sense"

"It's BURNING MY BUTT- - - -" I am not saying the word or typing it because that is just too gross for me to utter on my blog. I am classier than that, you guys. Well today...

My husband looks at me, I can tell he's amused but he's also confused and is not sure how to handle my frantic hopping. It's not really helping anything.

I'm not going into any more detail but I may or may not have whined enough to warrant a cell phone picture to make sure I didn't have a tumor, but push that thought out of your mind because I'm not confirming or denying it. This is where all my shame comes in.

I'm so uncomfortable, so I hop up and nearly break my neck on the wood floor because my feet still have the bath oil and I almost fell. I get the hemorroid lotion. I get some valium. And I go back to bed.

APPARENTLY not before taking to twitter and talking about the condition of my butt and then comparing it to a dog dragging its bum across the carpet. Nice. I really should have my phone taken away at a certain time..But whatever..

The next day I have a message from Burt's Bees on my twitter asking me to contact them about the bath salts and my butt problem so they can resolve it. I never even tagged them! Now I feel really bad and because my ASSanine tweets were amusing to my 16K followers, they got retweeted which means they are there forever. GREAT.

So, I have a laugh with my "big sis" stand up comedian friend Julie cuz she doesn't judge and she will find the humor in the whole thing and I get on with my day.

Photo shoot later in a sunflower field. FUN!! I have a really floaty flowy dress on.

One of the photographers wants to shoot near a tree. It's so magical looking with all the vine crawling up it and the sunflowers in the background and the vine on the ground. It's not poison ivy cuz I googled a picture of it twenty minutes ago near a similar tree with similar vine that I knew was going to be in one of the 9 or 10 photographer's "vision". I'm not making fun, the field is really magical. And I'm not complaining, the shoot was fun. But damn if I didn't go right on ahead and sit in that pile of vine and start feeling little tingles. Then I saw tiny red ants.

OH MY GOD FIRE ANTS!! I jumped up really fast. They were all over my legs. I had seated myself rignt ontop of a pile of fire ants. Fire ants are like the gift that keeps on giving , long after those little shits have stung you, the sting hurts worse and worse and worse. And today they are welty and itchy.

So now, my ass has been totally chewed up and like, violated by bath salts and HA HA HA isn't this so funny, and when I was talking to Julie again about my latest butt disaster, she pointed out that Burt's Bee's actually makes a really good salve for insect bites.

Hmm................

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