And I mean it.  

There are times on this here blog in which I share (maybe over share) and there are times when I keep things to myself.  For the most part I've kept a lot to myself this year because it's been one hell of a year and who wants to read about what a blogger has gone through?  After all, who am I — just a girl with a blog who is occasionally humorous and posts about bands and random videos and pictures, right?  A lot of you come to this blog everyday for a laugh or to see what's going on with your friend or because you've searched "BBW pin-ups" and no doubt you are sorely disappointed.  For whatever reason you come here, I know you've come to expect one thing from me and that is authenticity.  This isn't a place where you're going to read stories of a mom bragging on her kids or talking about how awesome she is because that's not me.  I mean, I may be awesome, but that's up to you to decide, not me.  

What I have decided is that this year has been full of suck.  I know this because I have a fantastic memory and this year ranks right up there with 1990 and 1993.  But this is about 2010.  To give you the story of 2010, I will first tell you about December 2009.  

One year ago this month I went for my yearly gynecological exam  had blood work done because of some complaints I'd had.  My gynecologist told me I was in premature menopause.  Not peri-menopause, premature menopause.  Now, my husband and I had decided three children was enough and I didn't have whole biological clock running out thing going on, but the news was hard to hear.  I was 35.  When you're told you're in menopause at 35 it makes you feel old.  My doctor put me on the pill for hormones and stuff and had me come in three times this year for ultrasounds because I have a uterus that loves the camera.  

Welcome to 2010.  In January, I was sitting on the edge of my tub, testing the water for the kids' bath, when I fell into the tub and hit my head on the edge where the tub meets the wall.  I saw little birdies and stars.  I was soaking wet.  I felt the back of my head and there was lots of blood.  When I climbed out of the tub I asked the girls to come in and look at my head to see if there was a big gash or if my brain was falling out (you never know) and the 6 year-old said "I can't tell – your hair is red and so is the blood."  I called 911, then I called Megan to come get the kids.  The paramedics put me in the ambulance and took my blood pressure, then asked if I had high blood pressure.  I told them my doctor said it was borderline and we were going to watch it.  I didn't think this was a good sign.  At the hospital, I was parked next to a ficus and Beth walked in because Meg had called her and Beth just loves hospitals.  What happened after that became some kind of hospital sitcom including the triage guy not being able to find a blood pressure cuff to fit my chubby arms, a man with Alzheimer's in the next curtained area asking who the monitors and such belonged to, the EKG guy who asked us to tell the people in charge he needed to go home early, and according to Beth, I did some flirting with the male medical personnel.  In my defense, I couldn't help it, my blood pressure was 263 over 1something and I felt drunk.  Plus, my ER doctor was really cute and so was the radiologist (shout out to Dr. McCutestuff). Anycutie, I was put on a blood pressure medicine and then my doc put me on a second.  If you're keeping score at home, that's 3 drugs I'd been put on in a month.  

Fast forward to August.  I started having severe pain that made me feel like I was having a heart attack and stomach issues for a few weeks.  When I went for a regular checkup, I mentioned this to my doctor who ordered lab work and an abdominal ultrasound.  When I went for the ultrasound, the tech said "I don't usually tell people this, but you have gallstones."  Lucky me.  Later that afternoon my doctor's nurse called to tell me I needed to see a surgeon about having my gallbladder removed and then she might as well have said "and hey, by the way, you also have high cholesterol and pre-diabetes, so we're putting you on meds for that. Is the Walgreens on 21 and 1085 still good for you?"  She was harsh.  I am not exaggerating.  Really.  Now we're up to 5 new drugs in what — seven months?  Good times.  

I had my gallbladder removed the day after Labor Day.  I don't miss it.  A week later I was at ScrapFest! doing my usual gig, but this time I was in pain and in recovery mode.  People told me I looked tired.  Here's a tip from Kerry: don't tell people they look tired.  

The next month was October.  I took a weekend trip to Shreveport and after having dinner with a friend, I hit a trailer that had come unattached from an RV. It had been towing a golf cart. An 18-wheeler hit it first, then an SUV hit the golf cart, then I sideswiped the trailer which was standing vertically in my lane.  You know, that old story.  I was shaken up for a couple of weeks.  

I spent most of November in pain from my wisdom teeth and crying a lot.  Yep, that's about it.  

Then last week I had three of those teeth extracted.  My mouth still hurts, but don't worry, they put numbing stuff in one of the areas yesterday and I'll be taking my Percocet as soon as I finish this post.  Percocet makes me feel drunk without the annoying taste of alcohol.  That should be their slogan.  Why am I not in advertising?  I'm like the Peggy Olsen of the 2000s.  Only rounder and with a better wardrobe.  

By the way, my oral surgeon told me yesterday that if my impacted-fused-to-the-bone last wisdom tooth ever becomes a problem he would probably have to break my jaw to remove it.  I'm sure that's what's going to be on tap for 2011.  

So, that was my 2010.  I've left out a few things.  There were a couple of bright moments.  Not many.  I did some work I was proud of and I stood up for myself when I needed to and I bought more shoes and purses and had great sushi.  

As always, thanks for reading.  My readers mean a lot to me and I hope y'all know that.  

Stay tuned for my new year's resolutions.