It has been…. a hellacious week. And I’m going to tell you about it because I feel slightly annoyed at myself for not blogging for like, over ten days.

A few days after my last blog post, I picked up a friend at the airport three and half hours away from my house, because it was cheaper for her. Which was totally fine!! Just a lil baby road trip. She came for vacation, I was having a staycations – overall, it was super fun!

I picked her up, got a rock to the windshield on the way there, and we went back to my house, leaving for Wilmington in the morning.

We had a few beach days before heading back and on the last day I get a speeding ticket on Topsail Beach. WAS I SPEEDING? yeah…. But not on purpose! It was the most annoying situation ever. The speed limit went from like 45, to 35, to 45, to 25, back to 45, and I was doing 40 mph in the 45 zone because it was a BEACH ROAD. I was cruisin’ enjoyin’ my shit. DAMN. I just didn’t see it had changed, and a white pick up truck GOT ME. I never speed anymore (after the first two tickets and paying OVER $300 to have the last one reduced) so I was obviously pissed this happened, but I took my ticket, cried, and then we went to the beach.

Kayla is such a talented photographer, so we thought we’d go to the southern end of Topsail where the people are scarce so we could take some photos. We had literally been taking photos ALL WEEK. The most scandalous thing that happened was her holding pineapples in front of her chest. THAT’S IT. Nothing about posing was at all scandalous, it was super cute, actually. All our other photos were in t-shirts, shorts, sweaters, and bathing suits. A woman came down from her house and started yelling at us, “I don’t know what you girls are doing down here, but it needs to stop. These elderly people here spent their life savings to live here and they don’t need this.  I don’t know if you guys are prostitutes or something or shooting your pornography, but this is a family beach and I don’t know who told you you could come here. MY NEIGHBOR IS 93 AND DYING OF CANCER AND YOU GUYS ARE DOWN HERE BEING SO INAPPROPRIATE.”


I don’t even know if we were annoyed, amused, or just flat out shocked. WE ARE NICE GIRLS. And this woman just tore into us. I couldn’t stop laughing, like… I get that people here can be on the conservative side, that’s fine. And if she was offended and just politely asked us to not take photos in bathing suits and sweaters, sure. I’ll stop, you were nice. Sorry we bothered you. BUT DON’T LEAD WITH ACCUSING US OF BEING PROSTITUTES. Askin’ if were taking photos for “those cards you pass out” like we’re a couple of strippers. Who are we being pimped out to on an empty ass beach, anyway?? Lord help me.

We went home.

A couple days later we had to go back to the airport. I start having a panic attack – why? I dunno. Convenience? I don’t want to drive, let’s just VOMIT. Anxiety is weird. Maybe it was just early… I couldn’t tell you. So Kayla has to make quick maneuvers to get to the rest area so I can clean myself up because I am now covered in throw up. I slept most of the way there, and before we got there, this guy REAR ENDS US. We were on 395 heading toward Dulles Airport, in miles of stop and go morning traffic, not getting any faster than 10-15 mph. We were stopped when he hit us, and we pulled over to the right to talk to him. He apologized like crazy, saying, “I just didn’t see you, your car is so low and so small.” Oh, really, cause I’ve never had that problem before?  I drive a pretty standard sized 4-door sedan style vehicle but okay. I took a photo of his registration and he gave me his card, saying he didn’t mind paying for it out of pocket, or he’d put it through his insurance. We were running SO late getting her to the airport so we didn’t call the police to file a report.. Something my dad is STILL on me about. The place we went to sent over the estimate, no response. I called, no response. My dad e-mailed from his government email, OH. A response! According to Mr. Orlando, We were “texting a driving and slammed on the brakes”. Oh, is that what you saw, when you DIDN’T SEE MY CAR IN FRONT OF YOU? ok, sure. Neither of us were texting, actually. Because we were spending our last hour talking to each other like real people that like to have friendly conversation. Ew, I’m so annoyed. Mr. Orlando, how dishonest of you.


We finally get there, and I get out to ask the man at the podium thing outside where Southwest is because it wasn’t on the numbered boards.. I TRIP OVER THE CURB and land on my face. Scraped my knee and put holes in my leggings. He answers my question, and she leaves. I then drive three and a half hours to CHESAPEAKE to pick up Kyle’s suit for the wedding we were supposed to go this weekend. Then two hours home. But I wasn’t having that so I drove 20 minutes home instead and slept at my parent’s house.

SIDEBAR: I had been feeling a little weird the last couple days with my stomach – nothing unusual but more of a “hey watch what you eat or this could get ugly” type of thing. When I eat too much fiber I get blocked and I vomit for hours and hours until the episode passes, so that’s just what I thought was happening.

SO FRIDAY. I’m still feeling a little weird and starting to be concerned because the pain hasn’t worsened to what I’m used to, but it hasn’t gone away either so I wasn’t sure what was going on. Nonetheless, I went about my day. My mom and I went to a place by her to get a quote for the damages to my car from being rear ended (I need a new trunk door) and then I ate a bagel and I drove back to Kyle’s mom’s house to make a few hours since I hadn’t worked all week.

I GET ALMOST THERE, AND .. thud thud thud thud thud.

Not a noise I’m familiar with, but my tire was flat as shit. So I keep going because I wasn’t driving through the safest area, and when I got back onto a main road, I pulled into what used to be the little corner store. I called Kyle’s mom to come get me, and before I hung up, Kyle’s cousin found me, STRANDED. Someone next door to where I was lent us his jack and Willie took off my tire, took me to town for a new one, and then put it on for me. LIFE SAVER. I was literally so so upset after the week I had and then I get my first flat tire – of course. I could’ve cried.

I get to Kyle’s mom’s house and I start working to help finish the wedding prep for another cousin’s wedding that was Saturday, and then I went home!

I woke up Saturday in more pain than I was in before, and I couldn’t get comfortable. It wasn’t a pain I knew, and I couldn’t tell what it was. I assumed maybe it was gas so I tried abdominal massages and exercises but it only made it worse. Around 9:30-10, I told Kyle I needed to go to the E.R.

If you live with a chronic illness, you can start feeling dramatic every time you go to the E.R. because sometimes it’s something super minor like gas pains. And I hate being that person that goes to the E.R. for every little twinge of pain I feel.

It wasn’t until around 4 that they wheeled me to get a CT scan, and 4:30 that they told me the pains I was feeling wasn’t my Crohn’s Disease. 



The woman that delivered the news to me, I think was expecting me to cry or ask her questions, or something. But I knew I’d have to have it removed ASAP, and all I did was say, “well shit balls. okay.” And I started laughing. I think she was considering taking me to the 4th floor at that point, because I was just… out of my mind.

Of course my appendix needs to be removed!! I haven’t been having a week from hell or anything – let’s do emergency surgery! LET’S UNDERGO MY VERY FIRST SURGERY!

I wasn’t even nervous. I don’t even know how to describe what I was feeling? Like just … complete defeat. I was completely done. I was so… over. my. got damn bullshit life this week.  I texted my mom and she left to come here, and they wheeled me back to the O.R. to have this shit taken out!

Kyle left for Sterling, VA for the Sunday wedding we were going to, and my mom took his place, and was there when I woke up.

It’s Monday now, I’m sore, but no longer needing pain meds to manage, I get to eat solid food today AND I get to go home tomorrow. I’ll write a full post on the surgery experience after I’ve healed up a bit more.

Knocking on EVERY WOOD, ALL THE WOODS, that this is the end of my streak of garbage luck.

Let’s all cross our fingers, cause I don’t wanna know how this could get worse.

Xo, k

1 Comment

  1. What. The. Fudge.
    That is a terrible week!!!!!!! I seriously hope next week is better!! Also, the lady yelling at yall is ridiculous. What the heck lady. Sometimes people take pictures of themselves at the beach. its a thing.

Write A Comment