Kyle came home from work a couple of weeks ago and casually informed me that he had agreed to go along (and take me) on a group excursion to Wisconsin Dells on July 8th.  A couple friend (two people who make up a romantically involved couple) of ours have birthdays around that time and they decided to celebrate by going off to Noah's Ark (a big deal waterpark for the non-Wisconsin people) to cool off and then go shopping at the many tourist-trap-shops Wisconsin Dells has to offer with friends.  Kyle and I have gone out with them before and it has always been fun (honest fun, and I have said as much several times to Kyle) so he just assumed that I would be happy to go.

And it isn't that I wasn't initially happy to go, I like excursions as much as the next guy, but Noah's Ark implies something dreadful to me that it does not imply to Kyle.  Noah's Ark means a day in swim wear in public - very much public - and in swim wear.  Yes.  He forgets that I feel good in clothes and I look good in clothes but swim wear does not leave that much to the imagination and it has a way of baring - even excentuating every imperfection that a good pair of jeans would hide.  

But I refuse to be a captive to body insecurities, so I agreed as long as Kyle would let me get new swim wear.  I have some swim wear that fits loosely.  I bought it at the end of summer 2006 (so almost two years ago, when I would have been 9 months post-op) when my mom and I were staying at a hotel in Rockford the night before my gall bladder removal.  There was a pool and my mom loves to swim, so we went to the Rockford Wal-Mart and I found a tank-ini that fit well enough to do the job as long as there wouldn't be too many people around to traumatize.  But those two pieces have this way of falling off (I am so sorry Kathy-Joe, you poor thing) and the tank-ini bottoms do bad things to my thighs.

My mission then was Mission Swim Wear that is not a sting binkini or a floral print all over nightmare.  I started to peruse the swim wear at Wal-Mart a couple of times but became frustrated quickly with the selection (you have two choices - g-string or grandma) and gave up.  Then I remembered something my older sister did.  She got boy swimming trunks for the bottom piece of her swimming suit.  Genius.  So I found a pair of navy blue swim trunks (that are the same size as Kyle's swim trunks!!!!!!!!!) but Kyle said I was not allowed to go swimming topless, lest I scare small children, so I was still only half way there.  

Wal-Mart's top selection was not going to happen.  I tried on a bikini top, just to make myself manically depressed I guess, and yeah, that was a really bad idea.  Not only does my stomach sag but I have 18 incision scars from all my surgeries, fading stretch marks and huge gash / brown spot / indent where my feeding tube used to be.  So even though I do have a relatively flat stomach (it is squishy and droopy, but it is flat) it would be obscene for me to wear a bikini top - that and I really do think bikini tops are border-line inappropriate.  I got so desperate that I went to the desolate K-Mart, but the selection was not much better there.  I tried on a couple tops, but they didn't come down far enough or they were halters that made me feel like I was slowly being dragged down or I simply do not have the chest to fill them out.  

As a last resort I went to Maurice's (and I made Kyle come with me for moral support and to make sure I didn't hang myself with a string bikini top in the dressing room).  I grabbed two tops and the second one, a halter tank top that ties in the back, fit like it was made for me and it even matches my navy blue trunks.  

In conclusion, shopping for swim wear will never be a 100% pleasureable experience, as I'm sure it is not a 100% pleasureable experience for most women.  But at least I had options in my size at all three stores I tried.

And the big picture here is that on the 8th when we go to Noah's Ark I will be able to keep up with the group and go on whatever rides I want without a concern about how I will fit.  At the end of the day I am healthy, I am mobile and it is a wonderful life, squishy belly and all.
     

You guys crack me up.  And by "you guys" I mean the three-four people who check up on me from time to time via my "blog".  I have now officially gotten 4 requests for an update.  I didn't know I was so loved .

First you get to hear my excuses for no updates for a while...

1.  My laptop is on its death bed.  Occasionally it shuts itself down, the pop up blocker has died so I get raunchy advertisements and when I try to click the "x" I just get three more windows (and I have tried re-downloading the pop up blocker and updating my computer's security, but I think I have irrepairably damaged my computer.  How you ask?  Well, Kyle and I are watching reruns of The Office on TBS, but I missed the Casino Night episode and I was told that was the episode where Pam and Jim finally kiss, so I tried to watch the episode from an online site, and in my hurry I just clicked "Okay" to whatever they asked me to click "Okay" to and here we are) and the laptop's battery has died completely, so you might say the laptop itself is on life support.  This makes me very reluctant to write anything on the laptop because I am afraid it will die mid-genius sentence and I will be left with nothing.

2.  I am taking 16 credits this summer.  Yes.  Originally it was something like 13 credits but I wasn't going to be able to graduate with my geography emphasis unless I switched some things around, and that switching required me to take another course over the summer.  My first summer term was 4 hours of class Monday-Thursday, but that ended last Friday and now I only have class from 8:30-9:55 Monday-Thursday, which leaves me with more time to update.

3.  My internet has been AWOL for a few days.  We unplugged the modem, waited, plugged it back in, unplugged it, waited some more, plugged it back in, turned it off, turned it on, rubbed its shoulders, said kind things to it, but no.  The magic modem box still just blinked the first two lights, and anyone with a magical modem box knows you need more than 2 lights.  I hoped the modem would wake up from its untimely slumber, so I just crossed my fingers and filled my time watching the WE channel, until I was finally irritated enough to call Mediacom who put me on hold for 59 and a half minutes!, during which time the little automated peppy voice told me to go to mediacom's website for help (well, I would, but MY INTERNET DOESN'T WORK!) and told me to try exactly the same things I had been trying.  Finally, when I talked to an operator, she told me to try the same things that the automated peppy voice told me to try (to no avail) and then she scheduled a repair guy to come to our apartment today.  Funny.  I wake up this morning and all magical lights on the magical modem box are blinking.  So I called mediacom, expecting to wait another 59 minutes to cancel the appointment, but no, that is an automated process that doesn't require hold time AT ALL.  Funny people.    

And finally, not that much is exciting right now.  My friend Val and I had an awesome time going to see the Sex and the City movie after a Sex and the City marathon, I had class, this Friday Kyle and I are going on his college visit to Trinity in Deerfield, Illinois and on Saturday I have my Praxis II exam (think big, bad, comprehensive social studies test - like ALL social studies, US History, World History, Political Science, Geography, Economics, and the Behavioral Sciences - Psychology, Sociology and Anthropology).  I took a practice Praxis II yesterday and got a passing score, but just barely, and I need much more than a "just barely passing" score to get placed in the highly competitive Chicago area.  

I skipped my class today because I am allergic to summer or something.  The past couple of days my whole face has been running and this morning I had a little temp and I felt like my head was going to errupt, so I just went back to bed for a while.  I'm hoping to be better by tomorrow for Kyle's college visit and definately by Saturday so I don't have to be Mrs. Sniffles during the Praxis.  I sat across the table from a Mr. Sniffles for my math final and I had some serious violent urges every time he snorted and hacked and breathed through his mouth like that kid with the glasses from Hey Aarnold.  When I blow my nose it sounds like a goose in distress / moose in love, so even though if I am still sick by Saturday I'll be brining kleenex so I don't have to sniffle and snort, the loud blasts every time I blow my nose are not going to be much better.  

That will be all for now because it is time for another sudafed, but fear not, I am alive and still full of words.