I Love You And Needles!
I do. I really do. Thank you for all you advice on whether I should leave The Dictator for a two week vacation.
99 per cent of you nice and loyal readers of ninepounddictator have told me to go to Italy, and leave The Dictator in the 10 good hands of Nanny Mimi, The In-Laws and my parents.
So I feel a lot better about my choice to go for it and leave The Dictator for two weeks.
Apparently, I'm not the only woman out there who sees the beauty in the fact there is a Prada outlet in Italy. There is such a thing. Really. It is not a myth. So I've definitely decided to go.
I've decided to go to Provence - and thank you all once again for pointing out my spelling mistake - yes, I'm a complete idiot when it comes to spelling. Once there, I'll decide whether or not to continue onto Italy.
If, while in Provence (not Provance) and I'm missing The Dictator too much, then I'll come back and let The Fiance head to Italy on his own. It will be good for him. And by "good for him" I mean "good for his credit card."
Many of you have suggested that I take The Dictator on the vacation. And to that I answer, "Um, that would not be a vacation!"
Once you have a two year-old, you realize there is a major difference between a "vacation" and a "trip."
A "vacation" is fun and relaxing! Meaning, on vacation you can lie by the pool, ogle the hot guys who bring you drinks, nap, read actual novels as opposed to US Weekly (and, don't get me wrong, I love the US Weekly), stay out late, eat at nice restaurants, sleep in and also have sex morning, noon, and night. Also, you can pack just for yourself.
When you travel with kids, that's a "trip." Meaning, you have to take a carry-on bag that weighs 5000 tons to keep your child occupied on the plane. And you have to share a room with your child, and mine now likes to wake up at 5:45 a.m.
And, though The Dictator does have a shoe collection that can compete with Barbara Amiel (I swear, The Dictator has 42 pairs of shoes) I can't see her enjoying spending two hours at the Prada outlet or seeing an Opera in Verona.
But, mostly, The Dictator can't come along because The Fiance won't let her. I did suggest that we bring her, because I do want to bring her, but when I asked if she could come, The Fiance said, "No."
But we will go on a family "trip" in January.
I want to tell you all about my acupuncturist. I have had major health issues in the last three months, which I won't get into because I do not like pity. I mean, I like to pity myself, but I don't like others pitying me.
After getting a number of X-rays and an MRI (Which possibly was the most awful thing I have ever had to do) and seeing 12 doctors, none of who could agree on what was wrong with me, and after crying every day for six weeks because not one doctor could help me, I went to see an acupunturist. (Trust me, I am not liking the Canadian medical system at present.)
I told Dr. Zhao, my acupuncturist, what was wrong with me, or what I thought was wrong with me, based on the 8 different diagnosis I received, and he said something like...well, actually, he didn't speak English very well so I'm not sure what the fuck he said, but he told me to lie on my side.
He put a number of needles all over my body, from the top of my head, in my ear, down my back, and told me I should come in to see him 12 times. I've been to see him 8 times so far.
And guess what?
I feel better! I am almost entirely cured! I love the dude.
But the best thing, aside from no longer being in so much pain that I would cry out every night, was that I told him I still had cravings for cigarettes and asked him if he could do anything about that. To which is he said, well..I don't know what the fuck he said, because, like I said, he doesn't speak English very well.
But I suppose he understood me, because he put some more needles in my ear, and voila. I no longer have cravings. Not only for butts, but for everything bad for me! I don't crave chocolate anymore. I don't crave caffeine. I think I may have lost 5 pounds after seeing Dr. Zhao.
There's only one bad thing about acupuncture. See, it doesn't hurt at all. But, the other day, I made the horrific mistake of turning my head to see all the needles sticking out of me, and I freaked out. As you may know by now, I'm a big crier. So, of course, after seeing 20 needles sticking out of me, I started to cry like a baby.
It was all so pathetic. "Hello?" I called out from the room I was in. "H-h-h-hello????"
And Dr. Zhao couldn't hear me, which made me cry even harder. I was in a hospital gown and didn't know what to do. Do I walk out into the waiting room with needles sticking out of me and tears streaming down my face? Um, no.
So I called out louder. "HELLO!!!!!! HELLO!! HELP!!!!!"
That he heard.
He came in and looked at me crying and did some magic and told me to relax and I did.
Anyway, I really suggest anyone with any sort of problem, from insomnia to depression to chronic pain to wanting to lose weight, to see a good acupuncturist. I'm not sure how it works. Nor do I really care how it works. But it works.
I also had a really fun weekend. My weekend included having a wonderfully fun night partying with a blind man until 2 a.m. And also hanging out with a Canadian Idol judge who took me shopping all day Saturday. But more on that tomorrow. (Oohhhh can you wait???)
Thank you again for your advice. I owe you all a big one.