MET WITH THE SURGEON yesterday for my pre-0p appointment. He was telling me how awful it would be when I woke up from the surgery with a big linebacker football pad sized wad of gauze on my shoulder that would be connected to an automatice icing machine and in a sling, with a lidocaine pump attached for several days post surgery. And how much pain I would be in. Now this just begs the question--why in the hell would I elect to have this surgery if it's that bad?

Seriously, the only reason I am putting myself through this bullshit is so that I can play ball next summer. This summer has been a washout because I am not enjoying the game at all. It hurts every time I throw and now batting is starting to get a little irritating.

Then he tells me that I will be on an automatic motion machine for up to 6 hours a day. This machine passively moves your shoulder so that it does not freeze up. That's all my mom, the nazi, will have to hear--6 HOURS A DAY. And by gawd, she will make sure that 6 hours are done. You see, I remember piano lessons and the old 1/2 hour/day practice sessions at which she would set a timer. It's just amazing that I have grown up as normal as I am. I'll wait for you to stop laughing.

The best part was when he told me that after 3 days, I would be pulling the lidocaine drip out myself. Now, I normally don't get grossed out by things like that, but I did. Maybe because it will be ME that I am pulling it out of. ewwwwww.

I'm just about 3 weeks out and during that time, I will need to practice using my left hand for EVERYTHING. That ought to be fun. And just a warning, if you are sitting next to me in Florida at dinner--you will have to cut my meat for me. I promise I won't act too smug.

TODAY IS MY FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR!! No, it's not because it's the solstice and I am not a witch (although I have been called something close and I have a male friend that calls my female friends The Coven--which they are flattered by, just so you know). It is because it is FIRE DRILL DAY! The day I can piss off everyone at once. I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ!!! Oh my God, it makes me laugh every time I hit the alarm button. My job is to set off the alarm and then stand there and watch people exit the building. With a pissed off look on their face.

Oh come on people--it's 70 degrees outside, pleasant, not too hot or too cold and you get to be away from your desk for 15-20 minutes. Think of it as an extra break. But no--people like to see the worst. So, I take great personal pride in knowing I can piss off 90 people all in one fell swoop.

So, I'm having a mini snickers or two to celebrate. Well, that may be PMS related. But I'm still having them.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD ONE OF THOSE WEEKENDS that you'd like to replay-like "Groundhog Day"?

I had one of those this weekend. All except for the parts that I wanted to slap people at the following places : Target, Arby's and Sonic. I blame it completely on PMS.

I had a really fun day with a friend on Saturday, downtown Denver, lunch, shopping and the theatre.

Sunday, just general stuff, but I turned a double play unassisted. It's the first time EVER in my softball career. I have assisted in plenty and have been really really close a few dozen times, but yesterday--I got one. Caught a fly ball and threw the runner on first out. With a gimpy shoulder to boot. YES!

I went over to my hair stylist's house to get my hair done after the game. She had to cancel my appt today and so it worked out. She has a 7 year old who is a really cool kid. I haven't spent much time with him, but I like him because he is creative, intellingent and fun. I was getting ready to go home after I was done and he leaned over and kissed my shoulder. I was really surprised and said "Did you do that to make my shoulder better?" He said No I actually did it because I like you.

That made my entire year.

WELL CRAP.

It's official. I will be having shoulder surgery, thus ending my softball season. I like my doctor. Poor guy, he's gonna learn an awful lot about me the next 4 months. He learned last night that I ask embarassing questions. I asked him how to shave my armpit. Because I am NOT going to be subjected to one hairy armpit. He started laughing and put his head down. But he did come up with a way I could do it.

At least I wasn't the guy with the two broken arms that were casted from wrist to armpit. Dr. Z had to tell HIM how to wipe his ass.

Since last week's events, I haven't really felt like writing anything. Even though my friend's death was expected, the shock was no less when it was finally over. But I know Sarah would have wanted us to laugh about something. It's just how she was. So today's entry will be a variety of things I have found funny recently.

I drive a rural "highway" on my way to softball every Sunday. They have just finished resurfacing said highway. Repainted the lines and everything. Get this. There was some kind of squished gunky (road kill) in the middle of the road and instead of scraping it up, they rolled it flat and painted right over it. So here is this dead whatever, with a double yellow line painted right over it. Don't ask me why I thought it was funny--I just do.

Last night at the softball game--I volunteered to catch for an inning because all of us hate to do it. Problem is--it really hurts me to throw a ball. I can bat without much pain, but throwing about makes me want to puke. Anyway, I'm all crouched down behind the plate and catch the first ball and hand it to the umpire to throw back to the pitcher. He didn't mind and I even explained why it was necessary. He was very nice about it. I got back to the dug out and the guys were giving me a bad time about it. They asked me if I had ever seen Major League II with the catcher who couldn't throw the ball back to the pitcher. I had and I called them a bunch of a-holes. Laughing of course.

There was a pop fly last night that our shortstop jumped about 4 feet in the air to catch and the guy on second had taken off. He turned around to go back and I was already at second. The SS fired that ball back to me and I caught it as I was sliding into the base (The field was wet from a huge rainstorm!) The runner was out and that was the 3rd out. As we were going back into the dugout, one of the young kids on the team said "Way to get a toe on the base!" I just laughed because it was one of those Lucky plays and as I always say--I'd rather be lucky than good.

I put one to right field last night and one of the young kids was coaching first and he said--when did you become an opposite field hitter? I told him since about halfway through the season last year. I actually can place a ball now. They don't expect girls in co-ed to hit opposite field so it is a guaranteed base hit for me. I don't even need an outside pitch anymore. We won 15-0.

FOR SARAH (June 4, 1961-June 7, 2006)

Your journey has ended on earth.

We will miss you terribly.

We love you more.