So give us a short sample. I know I'd like to see it.
But don't use a pen. A monitor is not an input device. :->
I know you have been sitting there hitting refresh over and over just waiting for an update on last weekends extravaganza with the in-laws. For the first time in a long time I hardly have anything to report. Things actually went okay. But there was one thing I learned, old people love to talk about bowels.
This party was causing me some dilemma, because I knew they would have crappy pizza and crappier fried chicken. Frankly, I didn't want to waste the calories. If I am going to splurge on my diet then I want to use those calories on awesome pizza, not the place that sent the best coupons. So finally I decided, screw it, I will just bring my own food and if anyone says anything I will just tell them my irritable bowel syndrome is aggravated by the greasy food (because I knew no one would mention the 40+ pounds I have lost). I figured problem solved, because no one is going to want to talk about diarrhea and constipation at the dinner table. Oh how wrong I was! Granted, I opened myself up to this by bringing my own food and did expect a certain amount of questions, but not the rapid fire non-stop in-depth questioning that I faced.
I explained the situation to my sister in-law. She's dumb, but nice and said she understood. When it was time to eat I brought out my yummy grilled chicken salad. My husband's aunt, we'll call her Hairlipina in homage to the ferret that lives on her upper lip that she think no one notices, asks me why I brought my own food. I quietly say, "All the grease in the pizza and chicken aggravate my IBS." My mother in-law pops up, "AGGRAVATES YOUR WHAT??" Again, quietly I say, "My IBS." I thought that would be the end of it, but Hairlipina had some more questions. "How long have you had it? Doesn't all that roughage go right through you? What other things can't you eat?" Crap! I had to think fast, because I had foolishly assumed when people heard the word "bowel" they would run from the topic like they were on fire. I didn't think they would have actual questions about my problems! I tried to be very softspoken and vague in my answers, so that Hairlipina might get the hint that this is not a subject I wanted to talk about. Then she tried to (loudly) convince me to get on medication.
This went on for about 10 minutes. I don't know if they were on to me or if they just really liked to talk about bowel movements. Knowing my husband's family like I do it was probably the latter. Later on we had to hear in painful detail about my brother in-law's lactose intolerance. Hairlipina and her husband were held in rapt attention. If ever I get to the point where stories about someone elses bowel movements are the highlight of my day, someone please commit me, because I've clearly gone mental.
After being hit with question after question I had really had enough. My jackass brother in-law (not the lactose intolerant one, another one) struts up oozing arrogance. He looks at my food and says, "Oh what's this? Our food isn't good enough for you?" He was not joking. He was trying to put me on the spot and embarrass me. How he even thought that was possible after playing "20 Questions About Kitten's BMs" tells you what an idiot he is. I looked right into his eyes, raised my voice slightly, and said, "I HAVE IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME, OKAY????" This had a couple of fabulous results. 1- He didn't talk to me the whole rest of the party. Which means I didn't have to listen to the benefits of cruising for the millionth time. 2- It shut everyone else up about my bowels. I finally was able to eat my salad in peace.
Going completely off topic, you know how most stores are going to the credit card machines that you swipe yourself and you sign with that special pen thing? Did you ever notice that unless the machine is brand new some person has tried to sign it with an ink pen?? It boggles the mind every time I see it.