supposed I kept on singing love songs?

Last week I went to the pool. I had not really "been to the pool" since I was in day camp. I had not set foot in a pool since I was 16 up till a few days before I "went to the pool." My friend R and I went to the pool at 11 am, right when I opened and sat by the pool, getting in for awhile once we got too sweaty sitting next to the pool.

Two things happened the day at the pool.

1. I got tanned wearing SPF 70 or higher.
2. I got stung by a bee.

Yeah. I was just sitting by the pool minding my own business and a bee stung me on the leg. I am pretty sure I must have smelled like a flower or something due to the amount of sunblock I was wearing and he/she/it was just checking my legs out, but then I went and moved and it hurt. Not a lot, mind you. I was mostly just like, "Hey, that is uncomfortable." I looked down and sat this bee flying away from me and then looked at my leg. There was a black stinger in my leg. I pulled my leg up to investigate.

"What?" R asked.
"I think I got stung by a bee," I causually said, pulling the stinger out. "Yup, that's a stinger."
She recoiled from me.

We determined I wasn't allergic because I was just sitting there feeling fine, other than a minor hurt in my leg. The rest of the morning and into the early afternoon I was fine. We left the pool at about one, went to Sonic to get something to drink and then headed home. I proceeded to sit in front of my computer and surf around the internet (trying to get "active" in the Etsy forums and failing at life). At around four, I decided I needed to take pictures of my new creations to post to my shop, and I went to get up and I COULD NOT WALK.

I am serious. I looked at my leg and I couldn't see anything was wrong with it. It looked sort of angry where the bee stung me, but for hte life of me I could not see a thing wrong with my leg other than it failed to work. I hobbled to the dinning room and took some rather crappy pictures and managed to edit one before my husband showed up.

"So how was the pool?" he asked walking to the study.
"I got stung by a bee and can't walk," I replied.
"Really? That much fun?"

I hobbled around for awhile until he told me to lay down on the couch. I did this, but couldn't get comfortable. I took two Bendryl before bed and was out like a light. I was fine the next morning. My husband claimed my leg looked swollen, so I didn't go to the gym. I couldn't tell there was anything up with the leg in the least, but he swore to me it was purple and bruised looking. The next day he claimed it looked fine, so I went running in the gym.

Two or three days after the event, R and her husband A came over for dinner and we spent about ten minutes staring at my leg, which they claimed was still sort of green. Evidently R hates bees and is fearful of them and could not believe I did not have a massive panic attack once I got stung and I just sort of sat there.

Its been over week since I got stung by a bee. Today, it ITCHES like CRAZY and is RED and ANGRY looking. It is patchy and rather ugly looking. And I can see its is sort of swollen finally. It is crazy. I didn't think to take pictures of it, so there are none to show.

I had only been stung once up till last week. I got stung right by my eye while standing in my drive way as a kid. I do remember it sort of hurting and freaking out and running to my mom, who said there was nothing there and stop freaking out. I do not remember it swelling or anything in the least.

Well, Basil Dog is FREAKING out about something, so I must go stop her.

the date grows closer and closer

The time is getting near. I've been in the dirt hole for a year now and if the end is in site will be told this Friday! I'm totally crossing my fingers and toes to get out of here. There is a small possibility that we'll be stuck in the dirt for another four years, which is something I dread on many levels.

I am still trucking along with my shop on Etsy. I've only had two sales and one no-sale. I'm trying to do things to get my sales to pick up, but due to the fact I have very little drive, I have yet to do anything major. I told D about the shop, as well as his wife P. D informed me the other day he was telling everyone he knew. Tragically, the only people he sees on a daily basis are wanna-be fighter pilots. All male. They are not in need of purses, tragically.

I have an add running on On Scrappy Chic. She contacted me about wanting to run an ad for my shop. It was like the best day of my life when she asked about that. (Okay, I think getting married was the best day, but it was totally one of the better days in the dirt hole.)

As my time in the dirt hole grows shorter (crosses fingers, knocks on wood, does many odd things to assure she will leave), I need to get ready for guests to invade my house. We have a spare bedroom, which is mostly used to collect junk. My husband used it as his huge walk in closet for awhile, then it just started gathering random items after we got Basil. I walked in there this past weekend and was like, "Wow, its filled with pillows and things Basil's attempted to eat." Stuffing was every which where, there was a pilot helmet sitting on the pathetic table bought from Target that never did stay together, and two broken printer were on the floor. In another corner lives the four floursent bulbs we removed from the kitchen after they put in the new lights in our house and we were being blinded in the kitchen. It is still brigher than it used to be in there with only two bulbs. There are also piles of my rejected, too small clothing. I spent about an hour Sunday shoving things neatly into one of the closets (for unknown reasosn the smallest room in the house has two huge closets...)I still have not shoved enough in for the arrival of our new bed on Friday. After two years, we finally bought a guest bed (as well as new printer, but that is not that important except it cost 69 dollars and I acutally pointed with my elbows at it.)

And to end, I will share with you a picture of Basil with a bra on her head. It cracks me up to no end. She is a total modle when I get the camera out. She always poses for me.

poor, neglected blog

I neglect this blog. I am honest, and I neglect it. Poor blog. (not that anyone really reads it, so who notices its neglected but me....)

I have been working on making handbags. Few turned out very nicely. One bag I posted got a whole lotta hits in the first day I posted it. It was shocking. No bag I've posted has done that well. I've still only sold two bags, though, which in itself is tragic. I wish to sell more.

Been seeing lots of movies as of late, though I cannot remember them in the least.

I have a whole lotta nothing to say, so I'll just close here.