Today we’re celebrating around here: It’s my one year blogiversary! Technically I started out about two and a half years ago on LiveJournal, but it was in January of last year that I decided I wanted my own space, my very own web home. So Brad got me all set up and it was on January 24, 2006 that I wrote this little ditty about butt sex. The drink. Oh what a way to start. It’s been a good year though. Thanks to everyone who stuck around and those you have stopped by. I look forward another fun year.

To celebrate, I did two things: 1)Asked Brad to make me a new banner (see above). 2)Got a shot in the arm today!

And guess who I ran into at the doctor’s office. My old friend, Stone Cold Nurse! The lady who was called in before me got a nice nurse, one who practically sang her name when she called it and who bothered to ask how the patient was doing today. I got SCN who barked my name and in place of “How are you?” grunted something about come this way. I did my best to ignore her while she blankly took my weight, blood pressure and pulse, but when she accidentally slammed the door against the wall on her way out, we finally had a good laugh together. A good laugh meaning I giggled uncomfortably and she fumbled around trying to close the door.

I guess I assumed my doctor was going to administer the shot, so when the doctor came in alone I thought, Oh good, no nurse to “assist” this time. She talked for a few minutes about this and that, then suddenly stood up from her stool and said, “Okay, she’ll be in here in a minute!”

Who? Where? Who’s coming in here? You’re not doing the shot! Oh god, don’t tell me it’s…

Stone Cold Nurse walked in moments later, syringe in hand, scowl on face. Part of me wanted to knock her down as I bolted out to my car. Forget the shot, who knows where she’ll want to jab me with that thing! Shots scare me enough without an unsympathetic person wielding the needle. But I have to say, I’ve come a long way in my ability to chill the fuck out. Last time I had a shot, over ten years ago, I almost threw up and then I almost fainted. Basically I almost passed out in a pool of my own vomit at the thought of being stuck with a needle. I can’t even watch someone get a shot on tv without violently turning my face away. The mere sight of needles makes me weak.

Today, however, I was strong. Nervous, but strong. When SCN asked me if I was a fainter, do I need to sit down? I proudly said No, I’ll be fine. Of course then she had to ask me to relax my arm because I was gripping the counter like it was the only thing keeping me from a terrifying fall to my death. But I really was fine. And I think that says a lot for how far I’ve come since I was a weak, whiny 8th grader. Long way baby.