Someone who shall remain nameless told me I'm losing all my readers and I better write in my blog.

So here I am.

I find it very difficult these days to sit down and be able to write much of anything. That's my reason. As silly as it may sound. As made up as it may sound. I've got a crazy 2-year-old who is soon approaching 3, a bigger house, less time in general during the day, and tons of things I'm still trying to catch up from the move (let me just mention that closing one stinking bank account has turned into the biggest nightmare of my life at the moment, soon followed by insufficient funds fees and a big ol' fat bounced check - but that's another story), and I find I'm either exhausted by the time I can just stop for a few minutes, and then I'd much rather play Bejeweled blitz on Facebook over and over and over until I can't even discern the color differences between the jewels, or I'd rather read one of the three or four books I'm reading at once because I sort of sold my book-loving soul to the devil and have to read books really fast and write reviews about them or I just might miss out on a fantastic pre-pub that I've been wanting for for-like-ever, or I just want to go to sleep.

But guess what I did? I bought a Wii. And a Wii Fit Plus.

I bought the Wii because it gets rather cold and snowy or rainy (more rainy than snowy, really) around these parts, and sometimes there just is nothing to do, so I thought this might be something fun for the family. I've heard that video games are great for kids’ hand-eye coordination. Of course, my kid is only 2, so he's perfectly happy just sitting in my lap and I steer Lightening McQueen around Radiator Springs, and I gladly appease him of his need to crash Lightening McQueen into rocks and other cars and buildings and trees. I mean, that's fun, right? That's what I thought. We laugh and scream and drive the cat nuts. So maybe I really bought it for myself as I do have a tendency to get hooked on video games (um, Bejeweled Blitz - need I say more?) and want to play them until I can do everything with my eyes closed.

It took me a bit of time to decide to buy the Wii Fit Plus, which is just a board and a "game," because I wasn't really sure I would get anything out of it (also known as exercise). But I thought, it'll be fun, I guess, and when Mateo gets older, he can certainly use it for other games.

After a few days, I decided to unpack it and do whatever it is you do to get the "game" going (I really don't know what else to call these things; I'm of the Zelda and Mario Brothers generation, and Pong before that). This is what you do, in a nutshell, in case you're so inclined: You get on the board and it tells you you’re obese. At least that's what it did to me. And it was nice about it, which was one of the major complaints about the first Wii Fit (Wii Fit Plus is new, I guess, that's what I gathered when I was trying to figure out what to buy) - apparently the old Wii Fit yells at you or something. After being told your Wii Fit age (I've gone as high as 54), you can then proceed to "train."

Psshaw, you might think. Train? Board? Game? Righto.

Let me tell you. I ran. I hula hooped. I stepped. I rode bikes and skateboards. I tried to float down a river in a bubble but kept dying (much to the glee of my son). I even got my husband doing some of these things, albeit the more "manly" ones that don't make you stand in one place while you circle your hips. It's fun. And it's HARD. It really is.

And here is the sad part, the part where I will leave you until I decide to complain about my banking fiasco: I had the worst sore calf I've had in YEARS because of the stupid step training portion. And no, you don't do anything fancy like twirl off of it and then hop on and then bounce back. It's up down up down side to side to side up and down and that's pretty much it. My calf still hurts. Then I got sick and didn't move for a few days, and on Sunday when I walked up and down the aisles of Costco (and we all know how huge Costco is, so I was really working it, I tell you), I thought my leg was going to collapse from being so weak and in pain.

Yes. From the Wii Fit. That's right. The Wii Fit kicked my calf good.

Until then, my faithful readers.

So I've moved.

I am now officially a Mid-Westerner, a Minnesotan, and living in paradise that could easily be the next "Real Housewives of...." Apparently we live in the rich suburbs of Minneapolis. And since we moved here with the same pay we made in California, that allowed us to pretty much pick where we wanted to live. Yes, yes, I know, that certainly makes me sound all fancy-like, but in reality, we're a statistic and we've ran away from our condo and our mortgage and are just waiting for the whole process to finish so we can begin rebuilding our credit and not feeling like big losers.

I do like it here, though. I like it like I like my memories of growing up in California when things still made sense and were safe. I like that it's so green here and there are bugs all over the place, and those bugs are LOUD at night. I like that we have a variety of ants, really huge ones and those regular small ones one would find in California. I like that I can open the door and not fear someone will break in and steal something or rape or murder me (although, I must admit, I am still a tad paranoid and like keeping the door open more when my husband is home than when I'm alone). I like that I can order things online that are being shipped via UPS and those boxes end up by our door instead of missing. I like that I can buy a crap load of stuff at Costco and not have to worry how I'm going to get all that stuff inside because now I can simply drive into our GARAGE and take my time bringing it into the house, which is just STEPS away instead of MILES away like at our condo. I like that where we live there are a bazillion really lovely parks with playgrounds and they are all less than 10 minutes away from where we live.

And if you're a fan of the grasshopper, then this is definitely a place for you. Those suckers are everywhere and can jump darn high.

But the best thing that I like about living here is that my husband swears he saw a wild turkey that was about 4-feet tall. And no, he wasn't drinking.

And yes, maybe turkeys are 4-feet tall, I really don't know, but I still think it's funny as all get-go.

How to confuse someone trying to sell you something on the streets.

There I was, merrily walking along the street in San Francisco, listening to a Moth podcast (awesome podcast by the way), when some guy passed me up, stopped, and then said something to me.

"......live here?" he asked.

I took out my ear buds and said, "What?"

".....live here?" he asked again.

Since this is not the first time I've been asked such things while in San Francisco, I assumed he was a tourist and that he was lost. Pretty fair assumption.

"I work here," I told him.

He looked confused.

"Huh? What'd you say?" he asked me.

"I work here. What'd you say?" I asked.

"Do you wear perfume," he said.

"OH. I thought you asked if I lived here!" I said. I quickly followed up with, "No, I don't."

"Do you want a free sample?" he asked.

"No, I don't wear perfume," I said.

"Okay, have a good day," he said.

Now he knows I don't wear perfume, I don't live in San Francisco but I work there, and you could easily attack me because most of the time I'm not paying close attention to my surroundings.

Things you should never participate in if you want to get any work done. At work, that is.

1. Bringing a human into the world. I think we all know why*.

• How far along are you?
• What's the sex of the baby?
• Are you going to work after the baby is born?
• Then WHO will take care of him? Your family?
  
• What is the baby's name?
• Are you going to call him Matt?
• Oh, so you're not going to call him Matt?
  
• Are you having a baby shower?
• When are you due?
• When is your last day at work?
  
• Do you have a preference in sex? (male or female, come on, you dirty-minded people)
• How do you feel?
• Have you gotten the baby room together?
• (at, like, 7 months along) You look almost like you did before being pregnant. Are you sure you're pregnant?
  

Etc.

2. Having bunion surgery.

• What happened???
• Can you walk?
• Does it hurt?
• How long do you have to wear that thing?
• Was it painful?
• How long before you're better?

My surgical boot became rather offensive to many after wearing it for a month.

3. Moving to Minnesota.

• Do you know how cold it is there?
• Do you know it snows there?
• When are you moving?
• Have you been there?
• When are you going?
• Where are you living?
• What's it like?
• Do you still have a job?
• What about your condo?
• How does your family feel about you leaving?
• Do they have Target there? (Target's headquarters are IN Minnesota -- shows how much people know about things.)
• How far is where you're living to Minneapolis?
• Do you know it gets COLD there???

I should have made shirts for each thing that pretty much sums up my pregnancy, bunion surgery, and moving to Minnesota experiences. Like some crazy run-on sentence.

When I am work, which is three out of five days, I seem to be the most popular gal in town - even with people I hardly talk to. Everyone wants to know what's going on, and since I'm still recovering from my bunion surgery (for you bunion surgery searches - when the doctor says it'll take 6 to 12 months to heal and to no longer feel pain, he's correct), so I get lots of questions like the above, all day long, and I keep repeating the same answers, all day long, while my task list gets longer and longer.

Yes, I'm actually annoyed because I can't get work done. And that we can't get on Facebook anymore, which means I can't play Bejeweled during lunch to improve my productivity or make fun of people's status updates.

My life is very complicated right now.

*I am in no way pregnant. Just to clarify. It was just the first time I experienced the 20 questions from 100 people each day known as the "being pregnant and open to any and all questions"experience.

Moving.

So as I stated before, we are moving to Minnesota in a month or two. I've decided that moving, at least moving under our circumstances, pretty much equates the same level of inappropriate questioning as does being obviously pregnant. Also? It's COLD in Minnesota. Gee, thanks, like I didn't know that.

While I understand that most people know what's going on with my husband's group at work, what I don't understand is why people think we're all in the same boat together and it's a sinking ship. We're all able to make our own choices and decisions, and, well, we decided to leave our condo behind in California, where it's worth absolutely nada, face foreclosure, and move to a state that's cheaper (albeit it colder, yes, I know this) and will be better in many ways for our family.

The number one question we face once people realize a little bit of "displacement" wasn't going to bring us down is, "Oh, so you're going to buy a place there, then?" To which we answer, simply, no. For whatever reason, people don't get that renting is an option. And to get into why we aren't going to buy just opens up a can of worms which then opens up another can of worms and it all goes so horribly and annoyingly wrong, and usually someone comes out of the conversation really annoyed (me).

On a lighter note, Mateo loves bubble wrap, and it's because of bubble wrap that I'm allowed at least a good 30 minutes of solid packing time. Mateo also loves boxes, and often I find him sitting in an empty one. He doesn't seem to get what's going on at all, which is to be expected for his age, but when we drag him on an airplane - one of his most favorite of all moving machines - and then drag him around looking at empty places, maybe he'll get an inkling of something. Okay, maybe not. I'm sure he'll just run about like the little loon that he is.

Our progress hasn't been the greatest so far in the packing area, but we have gotten rid of a lot of clothes and jackets and odds and ends. I've packed most of our pictures and art, my books that are in the condo (there are boxes in the storage unit as well), sold almost all our CDs, and some random things that aren't needed for day-t0-day life. I've found a home for Mateo's fish Water (you're off the hook, mom), have contacted Mayflower to get a shipping quote (they don't seem to think contacting me quickly is important, a fact which is putting them on my list), researched costs for car transportation, researched how to get to cats to Minnesota (vets bills, cat carriers, holding while walking through security gates not to mention their plane tickets), asked how to get my and Mateo's medical records (costs 20 bucks each if I just want copies, otherwise free when another doctor requests them), researched whether we should keep paying our outrageously expensive HOA dues until the bank takes back ownership on record (yes), researched apartments and town homes and locations and cities and public transportation and daycare locations and cost, and, and and and...

Now I'm just waiting for things to fall into place, one thing at a time, because each accomplished item gives the next item on the list the green light.

Oh, and did you realize it's cold in Minnesota? You betcha. Yes, I've researched how Minnesotans talk as well.

Another bunion surgery update.

I had my last doctor appointment this week, saw my x-ray, admired my two little screws that are helping my cut toe heal, and was told I can get out of the surgical boot. I decided I'm quite fond of my surgical boot, and since I don't really have any shoes I can wear right no because of the healing incision mark (yes, it's still healing) and the soreness and tenderness on the side of my foot, I decided I would keep my fun fashion statement on my foot a bit longer.

My doc told me I would have pain for six months up to a year, and the more I walk on my foot with normal shoes, the more my foot will swell and throb by the end of the day.

I'm canceling my gym membership. Needless to say.

So all is well in the foot department. I can't tell you if the surgery is worth it or not just yet, but still, if you suffer through pain because of a bunion, this is a piece of cake PLUS you get to wear the fantastic surgical boot!

Want to see my Frankenstein foot?

For all you bunion surgery recovery pictures how do I survive google searchers, I thought I should go ahead and post pictures of my foot. These were from about a week after my surgery.







Granted, these were taken in the bathroom and the lighting was horrible, but you get the gist of it all. You have an incision, it's fairly long, and the side of your foot will be swollen and bruised. It is still is bruised, but not so much swollen. And lucky me, my incision split open (not pictured) and so my scar is going to look really lovely, but since I don't care about the looks of my feet like most ladies do, I'm not worried about it.

It's been almost a month since my surgery, and in fact, I have an x-ray and a foot exam scheduled for next week where I find out if I'm stuck in the surgical shoe for two more weeks or if I can walk around in normal shoes. I'm actually hoping I don't have to wear a normal shoe although being treated like I'm missing a leg by random strangers (yes, this has happened, not often, but enough) or being told I forgot to wear my other sock (I wear a sock on the Frankenstein foot so my toes don't get all black and gross from walking around - brilliant, don't you think?) is starting to lose its thrill. I've been told my surgical shoe matches my bag, and my other shoe matches my pants, and so on and so forth. Lots of good jokes floating about because of my gimpiness.

So here's the scoop now that a month has gone by: It's not that bad. The recovery, that is. I would say the first two weeks one should defintely stay at home, eating bon-bons and watching those crazy Housewives of ____ (fill in your favorite). I was lucky enough to work at home the second week, so I didn't do much walking, but the little I did didn't feel too great. I was back at work by the third week, and yes, you will walk very slow and limp, and if you happen to wear a shoe on your normal foot that has a higher heel than the surgical shoe, then you're going to be really limping, which is something I did the first day back to work, and I've never worn that shoe again. Going down stairs is no fun. People don't care about you and your foot on public transportation. And if you get around toddlers with water, you will get your foot wet, so suck it up and hope you don't get an infection.

After the third week, if your incision hasn't split open and is in the process of healing and closing back up, your foot will start to feel almost...normal. Like you could walk on it barefoot. But I don't suggest it at all. In fact, I only take my surgical shoe off when I'm asleep or I know I'll be seated for some time. It's weirdly comforting. The tighter, the better!

Everyone asks me if it's painful, and honestly, it's not that bad. It's sorta like having a bunion! So, if you have a bunion, which I'm assuming you do since you're one of them google searchers (or my mom, or sis), then you can handle this. And I might be worth it. I can't tell you that yet. So go ahead and get it done and watch your TV shows and eat those bon-bons and relish in the fact that you won't have a big bone protruding out of the side of your foot anymore!