Tomorrow will make 3 weeks. 3 weeks of itching...3 weeks of scratching...3 weeks of oozing and bleeding...3 weeks of hearing "oh my god that looks disgusting"....3 weeks of pain...3 weeks of poison ivy.

It started at our company picnic where in I managed to walk through what everyone, after I had been in it, immediately identified as poison ivy. The first week wasn't bad, a little itching and redness. Of course, since it wasn't too bad yet, I first wasn't even sure I had poison ivy and certainly wasn't aware that I was periodically spreading it to every corner of my body.

The first weekend was when it started getting bad. We were in Fort Dodge for our friends' wedding, which I was officiating. It was a great time and I think I did an alright job not ruining their wedding. I had one unfortunately loud POP at the beginning when I asked People to "Please rise" and the Puff of air Profusely Pounded the mic Past its Positive Pressure Point. After this, however, I actually remembered to tell everyone to be seated...a minor detail I forgot at my last wedding. The only tough part, other than trying not to squirm and itch my leg, was when the unity candle ceremony began. The way it was set up had me holding the candle while it was lit - which sounded like a good idea until I saw those drops of hot wax beginning to fall. I managed to brace myself and not even react as the droplets landed and solidified across my fingers.

After this weekend, it all got worse. It spread and deepened...and got infected. I don't know where the infection came from, but I'm tempted to blame the America's Best Value Inn in Fort Dodge (which is a "best value" for a reason) - but that's just because I'm prejudiced about exterminators and pest controllers roaming the halls of my hotel looking for entry points. Not that our house couldn't use an exterminator also.

I wound up having to make two separate trips to the doctor - luckily only the second was bad enough to involve two shots, one in each "hip." So two shots, steroids, steroid cream, three different antibiotics, and endless gauze wraps - if that doesn't do the trick, I don't know what will.

The hideous boils and rashes have led to a few interesting experiences however....people keep their distance, for one. This weekend when I was home visiting, Aaron was worried what swimming might do to my leg....while my dad was worried what my leg might do to his pool. I've never seen him actively suggest someone not go swimming. Also bad, was when I wore shorts through the airport the other day, but kept my leg bandaged with gauze. However, one bandage kept coming un-taped and falling down. I've never seen such looks of horror on people faces as when they saw my exposed sore...the dressing dragging across the ground. I'm sure I would have been nervous too. However, the one person who didn't see it...or didn't care...was the woman sitting next to me on my flight to Florida. She asked for several drinks before the flight, but couldn't get them until we were airborne. Instead of being calmed by her vodka/orange juice, she was calmed by repeatedly grabbing my shoulder...asking what that noise was...and begging me to tell her everything was okay. I tried to do this, telling her the noise was just us leveling off and making up a bit about altitude and flight trajectories when she was worried we leveled off too soon - unfortunately, she was a lawyer and immediately saw through it and called me out accusing me of making it all up and "pulling it out of my ass." I considered just putting on my headphones and letting her panic at that point, but decided to talk her through it. She made it through the flight, and was appreciative...and in a strange coincidence, I actually ran into her and her son at a Jacksonville Baskin Robbins the next night. (I hear Oreo shakes were good for soothing poison ivy...is that not true?)

While this whole poison ivy thing still sucks, I think it is actually starting to get better the last two days - it hurts less, but there is still an awful lot of itching....and....wait... what are those red dots on my chest?

Float Fun for No One!

I am back in sixth grade. I am at the skating ring and the super popular girls ask me to skate with them. I agree,...and they proceed to give me a wedgie and skate off. This memory came to mind as I sat in a meeting room at my current place of business (I am not allowed to discuss where I work. lame) with a handful of grown woman arguing over float ideas. None of these woman with their place-of-business-badges glistening under the lamp lights ever paid me any mind. Every idea I gave went unnoticed. You could almost hear their ridiculous silent judging ("she wants to what with what??"). I had to keep reminding myself that this float committee--which I was nominated to be on while I was out sick from work one day--was not a sixth grade party at a skating rink. And these woman, who took this float committee thing way too seriously, were not the tween bullies from my past.

The theme of this year's contest is 'Small town, big heart'. My group decided on using Parkersburg as the prime example of this. I was gone during this discussion, so when I came back and was told that we'd be recreating the tornado ravaged town, I was...ambivalent, but I had a lot of ideas.

All of my ideas during these meetings (I've had three of them so far) have been ignored and frowned upon. Seriously,...it's a freakin' chair float contest and the winning department gets a pizza party. You'd think this contest was for a shot at eternal life or a large cash prize. Nope. Casey's pizza.

The thing that gets me the most is that some of my ideas that have been shot down out of thin air during the meetings have been created. And someone else has taken the credit! I used to read stories about office behavior like that in my Cosmo magazines, but thought I'd never experience that...at least while being a part of a committee that cuts out construction paper people and pop bottle tornadoes.

Float judging is this Friday. Just to be a good sport, I've still volunteered my time to make our team's float something worth looking at (the rubber band roads actually look cute. Too bad the cardboard people are all white teenagers. Not much diversity--a crucial rule of float building)

As long as no one gets wedgies by the end of this committee experience, it won't be too bad. Right?