Caroline-the Human Voo-Doo Doll

I'll get you, you little yuppie you...muhaaaaahhaaaah!

While on my soapbox for a moment, I want to say that I think there is a lot to gain from other cultures and being open to multifarious ways of thinking. [ok, I totally know what you are thinking right now..."isn't she showing off with that big word?!" and you are right...I am. But hey, I tortured myself by memorizing all these ridiculous big words when studying for the GRE and only think it is fair to get my money's worth by using one here or there] However it is also good to know one's limits. As many of you know, I recently ventured (way) out of my comfort zone and tried acupuncture. While I consider myself to be a completely healthy person, I do have certain pesky ailments that -truth be told- many of us are haunted by, specifically to me...muscle tension and (pretty chronic) sinus infections. However, what actually prompted me to dip my toes in this latest sector of "medicine" was a crippling pain in my neck that began a few weeks ago. [ok...maybe not "crippling"per se...I do have a tendency to be a bit on the dramatic side, it is one of my many charms really, but the condition did leave me walking around like an 80-year-old woman...not exactly attractive for a newlywed woman pretending not to be on the brink of her "early 30's"]  I digress...So, looking into exploring other doctrines, I happen upon <dah...dah...dunnnnnn> acupuncture. Why not? After all, (I justify to myself), if I had grown up in China this would be the norm...the only reason why I rely on a person in a white coat with a "dr." in front of his name is because that is what I grew up with...what I am accustomed to. <Insert self-congratulations here...aren't I becoming the self-reflective one?!> So I make myself an appointment.

Her name was Rebecca. Normal enough, right? I walk in, seems like a typical San Francisco apartment/working space. We go in. She asks me if I want a cup of tea. I think to myself..."awwww, how cute! How very-Chinese-medicine of her...tea!"  We sit down and she asks me the pro forma questions about why I am there, including a question about my "stools" I'll have you know, and is very thorough about getting to know all about my health. Then she places a white towel over the desk and asks me to place my forearms on it. She will take readings on my pulse for the next 4 minutes.  Ackkkkward. Should I be making conversation? Does she need to summon the spirits at this time? Shit. What do I do? Great. Now my pulse is probably racing and she can tell that I am nervous. Is she going to extra-stick me with needles?! Am I giving a false reading?!!! OH LORD!!!! Ok, Caroline, relax. Maybe you should have taken her up on that chamomile tea. Fast forward...awkward pulse test over. great. let's get to the meat and potatoes of this little project. I'm clearly through the awkward part....oh wait....what's that? You need to look at my tongue? Jeez. I would have used one of those fancy tongue scrapers and Listerined if I had known this! Ok, fine, I swallow and stick out my tongue. man, this is weird.

Finally on the table, which now I'm convinced will be the most comfortable part of the session, she begins with the needles. Needle One. Not so bad. Ok, I can TOTALLY handle this!  Needles TWO, THREE, FOUR. I am congratulating myself on how completely hardcore I am...whoa, this is nothing! Needles are being inserted into my flesh and I can totally handle it! GRRRRRR! I AM SHE-RA! She continues to ask me if I feel the needles. Not wanting to portray myself as a total wuss, I report, "well, kinda, but it's not bad, really." WRONG ANSWER! Apparently you are supposed to feel it...in a not-so-zen kinda way...like numbness, dullness, or a shooting sensation in your muscles! Every time I would report back that I didn't feel a certain needle meant that she would either dig that needle in further or remove it and, (with much more vigor) replace it into an adjoining "meridian" until I reported feeling it and therefore, as I would not soon enough learn, establish my "chi." So much for trying to be hardcore, I was quickly learning to cry "uncle" at every opportunity.  Ok, so my previous idea of this being a relaxing Chinese-medcine-zen kinda' thing was very quickly going out the window. But wait. I had researched this on youtube and youtube wouldn't let me down, right?! The people on youtube said this wasn't supposed to hurt! They even said that most people fall asleep! Damn! This doesn't seem right! Rebecca clearly does NOT want me to be zen let alone FALL ASLEEP!  WHERE AM I?! Is she going to incapacitate me and harvest my organs (especially since they are now tenderized)?!  UNCLE! UNCLE! UNNNNNCLEEEEEE!

In-humanely Human?

So many of you have been wondering what I've been doing with my newly found spare time. May I humbly say that I think you'll be very impressed. You see, dear readers, I have embarked on the momentous endeavor of reeducating my pets to believe they are human. If Orwell can do it with pigs, I can certainly do it with these superior species. No folks, these photos are not doctored...they are completely legitimate. Yes, that is my dog (skeptically) READING the "Litter Kwitter" box which reports that cats will be completely trained within 8 weeks (and he called it...I will admit, we are well beyond week 8), that IS my cat using the toilet (and quite unhappy with the breach of privacy), YES that IS Oliver sporting the latest in doggie fashion, the Rain Barka,  all while secretly plotting my demise. (get it? "Barka" like parka...ok, you're right, this post is going downhill quite rapidly) Look out Caesar Millan, this is novel material right here.