Koolaid Lips

So, I found this thing on Pinterest the other day.

Yep, using koolaid to color your lips. Koolaid is cheap (10 cents a package if you buy the store-brand version) so I figured, why not give it a try? I won't be out much if it turns out not to work.

In the video I watched, they licked their fingers and used the wet fingertip to apply the koolaid. This resulted in messy lips and stained fingertips.  I opted for a lipstick brush for more control, and no stained fingertip. I dumped some cherry koolaid in a little bowl and added a tiny bit of water.  Deep red appeared in the bowl.  Ooooooh. Using the lipstick brush, I began applying it to my lips. Immediately, it began to sting a little. Thinking it would go away after a bit, I continued.  When finished, my lips were a gorgeous bright red.  But they were stinging, like ketchup on a split lip. Yikes.  I attempted to wipe it all off, but it turns out koolaid DOES work as lip stain.

It's also very sour. Have you ever tasted koolaid right out of the envelope?  It's similar to sucking on several lemons. AND it turns out, when you talk, your tongue hits your lips quite often. So I was regularly making sour-puss faces. 

An hour later, I noticed my lips were slightly swollen.  This concerned me a bit. After all, I had already removed all that I could remove.

Today, my lips were dry, cracked and painful (but still red!). And this afternoon, the skin of my lips started peeling - just like after getting a sunburn. 

So, what's my conclusion?  Koolaid DOES work as a lip stain - and comes in a variety of fun colors.  And if you don't mind pain, swelling, dryness and peeling - it's totally worth it.  Btw, I DO mind pain, swelling, dryness and peeling so I will NOT be doing this again.

Our Hero Dog

Before making myself breakfast this morning, I let the dog out like I always do - and right back in since it was raining. As I started my eggs, I heard Crookshanks meowing repeatedly.  ***Oh for those of you who didn't know, we got 2 adorable little kittens 2 weeks ago! Cali and Crookshanks*** It was a "I'm trapped, let me out" frantic kind of meowing. So I started looking around, trying to think of places he could be stuck. I couldn't figure out where the meowing was coming from (anyone with one-sided hearing loss can tell you that it's hard to determine the direction of sound, when you don't hear in stereo). Meanwhile the dog is barking like a maniac like someone was at the front door. I kept telling her to shut up so I could hear Crookshanks better. I opened and closed all the doors, looked in the laundry room (did his claw get stuck when he was playing in there?).  I even checked by their food dish, since he gets a little upset if the food gets low LOL.  Lacey, of course, was still barking in the living room.  Totally not helping things.....or so I thought.  If I had listened to her though, I would have realized that she was playing the game "where's the kitty?" That we've been teaching her. I realized she was telling me where Crookshanks was. I opened the front door, and there he was, trapped between the front door and the screen door. He had dashed in between as I closed the front door after letting the dog back in.  Lacey found the kitty, just like we taught her,  and she is the hero of the day!

Inexplicable Fear

There's no rhyme or reason to it. Fear and anxiety sometime come with good reason, some kind of good explanation.  If a child has a bad experience with a dog, for example, it makes sense when they acquire a fear of dogs.  I can't explain my anxiety.  I sit at home, on my comfy couch, inside walls and under a roof, behind locked doors and windows, and I am anxious over every little sound I hear.  I jump when the fridge runs because my over-active imagination tells me it's a car coming down the road.  When the house creaks, groans and pops (like all houses do) I imagine a wall sagging or the ceiling falling in. If I hear leaves rustle or a twig snap outside, I imagine someone sneaking around my house with the intent to break in and steal what little we have, or to do bodily harm to me or my family.  Perhaps I've seen too many scary movies, and watch too much crime television.  I am always on alert, and it's exhausting.  In order to get any sleep at all, I have to play some kind of background noise, like a thunderstorm or beach waves to drown out all other sounds.  But here's the really strange part.  In the last month or so, I have been camping twice.  The first time was in an over-crowded campground, where our neighbors were camped out just feet from our tent and people were regularly walking by, so close that I'm surprised no one tripped over our stakes and rope. The second time was near the beach in Grand Marais.  It was festival weekend, which means the small town was crawling with people, strangers, drunks.  Only the thin, nearly transparent material of the tent stood between me and the world.  But I wasn't afraid. My anxiety never kicked in during either camping trip.  Why then, inside the walls of my own home, do I feel so anxious? What am I afraid of??

Pinterest Win #3

Another win from the Pinterest boards.  Doggy ice cream, or pupsicles.  Yes, I even have pins for my dog.  For this one, Madison and I combined two dog-related pins we found, and made some doggy popsicles for our dog, Lacey.  You can see the two below:

  

Madison actually did most of the work.  She chopped up and mashed the bananas, and measured the yogurt and peanut butter.  We let the mixer do the hard part, scooped the mixture into cupcake tins, and stuck milkbones into each one (btw - I would recommend letting these set for a short time in the freezer BEFORE you put the bones in, otherwise the bones keep falling over).  This recipe made 15 cupcake-tin pupsicles.  Into the freezer they went.  An hour or so later, they were ready. 

I scooped one out and let Lacey go at it- the milkbone worked as a perfect handle (I didn't want to get the ice cream on the floor).  Lacey made quick work of the pupsicle, and was immediately looking for more - which I took as the doggy version of a huge "yes" vote! 

Pinterest Win #2

Riding on the wave of excitement over that first t-shirt conversion that went so well, I decided to give another one a try.  I was inspired by another Pin I found from Wobi Sobi (you can find it here).  I decided, before I even started, that I wanted to tweak it a bit so as to show off the new (as of last year LOL) tattoo across my back/shoulders.  In the tutorial, they cut and braided the bottom half of a shirt.  I cut and braided the top half of my Betty Boop tee.

I really like how it turned out.  It's kinda confusing to put on, because the strings get tangled and there's only half a shirt holding the sleeves in place. But once it's on, I love it.  It had the same major downfall as the halter shirt though.  Hmmm, where's my duct tape?

Pinterest Win #1

Hello everyone.  My name is Rachel.....

     (hi Rachel)

.....and I am a Pinterest-oholic.  

Yep. I am.  I love Pinterest.  LOOOOVE it (I sang that, you should too).  I have boards for clothing, food, fairy gardens, things I find for the kids, decorating ideas for the house, projects for my hubby's to-do list, even one for all things "Harry Potter".  I know I'm not the only one.  You're a Pinterest addict too aren't you?  How can you not be?  You can find anything on Pinterest.  Want a recipe for yummy cinnamon rolls?  Look on Pinterest.  Want a new hairdo for your daughter's hair?  Look on Pinterest.  Looking for a funny meme about whatever it was that you experienced today?  Check Pinterest (being a long-time retail employee, my favorite meme is "Retail Robin".  Look it up.  If you have ever worked in retail, you will appreciate it, and hopefully get a few laughs).  As you scroll through pin after pin after pin, adding things to your collection, you think "ooh I should make that craft" and "ooh, that looks yummy."  But really, how many of your Pinterest pins have you ever really gone back to and done?  For quite a while, my answer was "none" or "a few".  So I am here today to tell you, folks, that I have DONE some of the things on my Pinterest board!!

And I'd like to share some with you.  I already have a post about a Pinterest fail (find it here).  but now, I have a couple wins!  The first one I'd like to share is a halter top I made out of a regular old t-shirt.  Ok, it wasn't an OLD t-shirt.  I actually went to JoAnn's and bought a plain gray t-shirt.  Yes, I know.  I have tons of shirts in my closet I could have done this with.  But most of them have logos, or stains, or they don't fit...... The aim of this project was to have another shirt I could go out in (by going out, I mean date night with the hubby at the local dance club - there isn't a dress code, but people tend to dress up a bit).  I have a couple nice "going out" shirts but 1) I like to have a variety and 2) they are included in the stained or don't necessarily fit right category. So i decided to start fresh.  

I followed the directions I found, via Pinterest, on Wobi Sobi here.  No sewing required by the way.  A few snips later, I had a modest-in-front-but-show-off-my-whole-back halter top.  Then I modified it a bit.  I wasn't looking for modesty (ok, I wanted to, ahem, show off a little cleavage).  I cut it lower in front.  Snipped the straps shorter (the long straps tickled my back, which I found annoying after the first 3 hours I wore it).  Here it is:

Then, because I wasn't really comfortable with my WHOLE back being totally exposed, I took in the back a bit (oops, there WAS some sewing, but only because I ventured away from the original plans).  My verdict?  Absolute WIN!  It's cute, a little sexy, and best of all....it's made out of a t-shirt so it's super comfy.  

My only problem with it (Caution: guys, you may want to stop reading here.) How do you wear a bra with it?  I'm sorry.  My girls have nursed 2 babies, and they're 36 years old.  I have faced the fact that they just won't stand at attention on their own anymore - they NEED support!!!  BUT, I have not joined up with the whole "seeing your bra is ok" movement that seems to have taken over everywhere.  I don't want to see YOUR bra or its straps, and I don't want you to see MINE.  It's an underthing.  Which means it should be UNDER your clothing, not PART OF the outfit.  Ok, that little rant is over, sorry about that.  So, what to do?  It was a conundrum for me.  BACK TO PINTEREST!  I'm not going to go into detail on this.  You can google it yourself.  I'll just tell you that duct tape is now a permanent part of my getting-ready kit LOL. 

Today, as I drove home from work, it started raining cats and dogs.  It was really coming down.  I passed an older gentleman, arms full of groceries from Meijer, struggling with his umbrella. 

I follow several "acts of kindness" pages on Facebook. My favorite two are Random Acts of Kindness and One Spark.  Inspired by these pages, I pulled over and had a quick little chat with myself.  Could I just leave the man to walk in this pouring rain? Should I give him a ride?  It can be dangerous picking up strangers. Finally, I started backing up.  As I neared the man, I saw that his umbrella had now collapsed due to the wind, and I knew I had made the right decision. He didn't hesitate to accept my offer, and thanked me countless times during the 1/2 mile drive to his home.  He dropped a couple dollars in my cupholder as thanks when I dropped him off. 

When he unpacks his groceries, he'll discover I slipped the money into one of his grocery bags when he wasn't looking.

Update!

I just realized that I posted about the little lump I found, but never updated you about it.  Someone asked me about it, and said they had been worrying about me.  Sorry.  I didn't mean to make you worry!  First, if you don't know what I'm talking about, you can read all about it HERE.

I had a mammogram and ultrasound done on the little lump. I showed up at the doc's office, a little nervous, but not too bad since I had done my research and I was PRETTY sure (although not 100% sure) that I had nothing to worry about.   They led me to a changing room and gave me a lovely cape to wear.  Yes a cape.  Not the typical open-in-the-back hospital gown.

Ooooooh.  Gorgeous, isn't it?  Since there were no sleeves, I had to be careful not to move my arms around much, or I would have shown the world everything.  Next we went into the mammogram room. You can't tell from the picture below how nice the room was. They obviously tried to make it feel very homey and comfortable.  A big comfy chair (I was sitting in it when I took the picture), carpet, paintings and plants.  Right in the middle of the room was the dreaded mammogram machine.

The nurse was really nice.  Obviously she's experienced a mammogram, herself, and completely understood.  She explained in minute detail what she was doing and why.  She also kept apologizing about it being uncomfortable.  "I know, I'm sorry.  It's just for a minute."  I lost track of how many pictures she took. Each one required careful placement of my breast, which she had to do - how would I know where to put it? Thank god her hands were warm though.  Then the machine would squash it until it couldn't squash any more (ok, it probably COULD have squashed more, but then it would have HURT), took the picture, and released. There was a top, diagonal, and side view of each one.  Then a couple extras of the area where the lump was.  

I don't know how they can see anything in those pictures.  It just looks like cloudy stuff with some stringy looking stuff in it to me.  On that left picture, can you see the little dot on the left side of the picture? That's supposed to mark the area where I found the lump.  I see nothing.

Next was the ultrasound.  Yippee.  I didn't get any pictures of that part.  If you've ever been pregnant, you know how an ultrasound works.  They squirt some goo on the area, and then move a wand thing around on your skin to get images of what's going on beneath the surface.  First, they mapped out the whole breast in 12 sections (marking each section 1-12 like the face of a clock).  Then they pushed and prodded and moved and jiggled the little lump in an attempt to get a good picture of it.  Remember in my previous blog, I said it was tender to the touch?  Yeah, ouch.  They actually had a hard time getting it on the screen.  Apparently the sound waves from the ultrasound go deep, and the lump is JUST under the surface of the skin.  They had to use a rubbery spacer, which looked to me like a slab of fake fat. But it enabled them to find a clear picture of the lump (as clear as an ultrasound can get, anyway. Still looked like nothing but static to me) and they were able to measure it.  They didn't tell me what they thought it was, but said it was nothing to worry about.  I have a follow up appointment in a few months, for another ultrasound, just to make sure that it's not growing.  I guess if it's growing, then it IS something to worry about.  So I keep checking it.  If it's growing, it's growing slowly because it feels the same to me.

Shaky Hands, Pounding Heart

I am a photographer.  It used to make me nervous to share my photos with the world.  Would people like the way I see things?  Would they appreciate beauty in the same way I do?  When it got a positive response from the majority of people, it became easier.  Then, a while back, in an attempt to gain votes for a contest I had entered it into, I decided to share a black and white nude photo I had done.  I was nervous all over again.  My heart beat fast, knowing that I was exposing a part of me (literally and figuratively ha!) that most people had never seen.  It was something that I don't think most people, who know me, would expect from me.  I got nothing but compliments on that photo.  Someone told me it made them uncomfortable, but they were just being a good friend and giving me crap (I think LOL).

I am also a writer.  I currently maintain 3 blogs.  The one you are reading now, one for my photography, and another one where I share short stories that I have written.  I have had each of these blogs for at least 2 years. My photography blog was a no-brainer.  I had already been sharing my photos and thoughts about them on my facebook page.  It was an easy transition to start blogging.  This blog, the one you are reading right now, made me a little nervous at first.  No one knew that I wrote at all.  So I kind of felt like I was introducing the world to me - not the "me" they knew: quiet, shy, nervous, somewhat anti-social Rachel, who very rarely had much to say.  Facebook opened the door, although just a crack, to me speaking my mind.  But I found that I was severely limited by the 140-character limit they imposed on status updates back then.  How can I properly express what I want to say, when I have only 140 characters to say it?  So I started my blog.  Like I said, I was a little nervous what people would think when they read it, but I was actually MORE nervous that no one at all was reading it.  I still don't know how many people I reach.  I get a few comments from a couple close friends and family.  My audience could be limited to just those 5 people for all I know.

The blog where I share my short stories is the one that makes me most nervous.  I have had it for almost 2 years (although I have only posted a handful of times).  And every single post I publish sets my heart pounding all over again.  I don't think anyone even reads it, as I don't actively share it.  It brings the reader inside my head (a scary place to be!) and they find out where my mind goes when it wanders. I can take one wayward thought, or dream, and turn it into a short story.  Even sharing that blog with my hubby (of almost 16 years!) makes me nervous.  He, of all people, knows me best.  He knows I write.  He knows I write stories.  He even knows that sometimes, my short stories are a bit......shall we say, risque?

I just don't want people to think differently about me.  Or maybe I do, but I don't want them to think negatively about me.  I want people to know there is more to me than what they originally see, but I don't want to be judged.  So why do I publish the writing at all then? I suppose I want to know what people think of the stories, without being biased by knowing ME first.  So, I write the blog but don't share it with anyone, hoping that strangers will happen by and read it.  On the other hand, why do I care so much?  If someone who knows me now doesn't like me after reading what I write, then I guess they are not really someone I need in my life after all.  Because people need to take me (or leave me) as I am - the whole package, not just what they think I am, or what they want me to be.

To worry, or not to worry. That is the question.

Well......wow. I don't think I have ever written a serious post. Ha, I may not even be capable of it. Of course, just because I am discussing a serious subject, it doesn't mean I have to discuss it seriously, right? Ok, boys, look away. I'm talking about girly stuff here. I'm sure you have no interest in reading any further.

Last weekend, while scratching an itch, I noticed something that wasn't right, a tender spot. As I always do, I probed around the tender spot a bit, trying to figure out what it was that was causing the tenderness. Usually I discover a bruise I didn't know I have. I get a lot of bruises at work, specifically on my thighs from walking into the metal bag racks at the registers. Ouch. This time, though, I discovered a tiny little lump just under the surface of my skin. It was about the size of a small pea, and smooth, and it hurt when I pressed on it. Now, I am familiar with small, painful lumps under my skin. Back in November of 2011 I told you about my Hidradenitis, which causes inflammation of my sweat glands. These bumps appear on my legs and under my arms, usually. This was not one of those bumps. This bump was in my left breast. (see boys, I told you it was girl stuff. Now go away!)

Yikes!! A lump in my breast? Of course, what was going through my head was probably the same thing that's going through your head right now. Breast cancer. Scary stuff, right there. I called the doctor the very next day. In the meantime, I did a little research on breast lumps. What I found eased my mind a little. On a UK medical website, I found what they call "5 basic rules every woman should know."

1. Painful lumps are less likely to be dangerous than painless ones. As I mentioned above, this little lump hurts. Especially when pressure is applied to it.
2. Soft lumps are less likely to be dangerous than hard ones. Well, THAT one didn't make me feel any better. My little lump feels hard to me.
3. Lumps that move freely are less likely to be dangerous than ones that don't. My little lump is a slippery little bugger. It kinds slides this way and that way when you push on it.
4. Smooth lumps are less likely to be dangerous than rough ones. My little lump is very smooth.
5. Lumps that grow very fast over a few days or weeks are unlikely to be dangerous. Well, mine kind of appeared suddenly, from what I can tell. It's shape and size hasn't changed in the week since I found it.

So, I went into my appointment today thinking that my hidradenitis had simply found a new place to express itself.  The doc, of course, questioned me about my family history.  I told her about my grandmother, who had had breast cancer.  I couldn't give her much information though, since the family is pretty close-mouthed about personal things like medical history.  Then she examined me.  At first, she couldn't even find the lump (I SAID it was small LOL).  I showed her where I felt and she said "Wow! That IS small!" and she commented about how it moves all over the place when you touch it.  Meanwhile, I'm laying there wincing because she's pushing this little thing here and there and hello! I had told her that it was tender to the touch (it's actually still kinda sore now, 3 hours later, from her messing around with it so much).  She didn't seem overly concerned and never mentioned the big C word (hooray!).  She ordered an ultrasound because "it may be a cyst."  And, because grandma did have breast cancer at some point, she ordered a mammogram, just to play it extra safe.  So a week and a half from now, I get to be poked, prodded and squashed.  But we'll find out what's going on and what to do about it.  For now, I am fairly certain that it's not something I need to be really worried about.

Creepy Dream

What are your dreams typically like?  Do you have recurring dreams?  Have you ever flown in your dreams?  Been chased?  Been attacked by bugs?  I have had all these types of dreams, and more.  My most recent memorable dream left me shaken and on edge.  It was just last night, or this morning, more like:

I was at my grandma's house in Grand Marais.  It was raining outside and when I looked out the window, I saw a large, white wolf on the roof.  I also noticed that the house was leaking in the room I was sleeping in.  The ceiling and wall were both soaking wet.  The wallpaper and plaster were soggy and starting to sag away from the wall. I didn't have time to wonder about the wolf though, because my alarm went off and I woke up.  Carl and I both got up.  It was just starting to get light outside.  I peeked out the window and saw Madison wandering around outside.  I couldn't figure out why she was outside when she should have been in bed.  I opened the window and called to her.  She looked just as confused as I was, but she came inside anyway.  She was wearing jeans shorts, a white T-shirt, and a ribbon tied in her hair like a headband.  Something wasn't right about her.  She seemed different to me, which only confused me more.  She seemed younger than she had been when I put her to bed earlier.  Her eyes were getting red, like when you have pinkeye.  She rubbed them saying "Mommy, my eyes are really hot.". It was all so strange to me that I left the room and went to Madison's room.  There, I discovered Madison sleeping soundly in her bed, right where she was supposed to be.  So who - or what - was in my bedroom?  I went back in to find out. The strange version of Madison now had blotchy redness all around the eyes, like a rash. 

She looked at me, and her eyes rolled back into her head. It came toward me, and I screamed.  Carl walked into the room to see why I was screaming.  But it wasn't really him.  His eyes, too, were surrounded by a blotchy redness.  When his eyes rolled back into his head, I opened my mouth to scream and.....

.....my alarm went off.  Again.  This time, I woke up for real.....I think.