I know about pop-u-ler. Lar.

Bonus points if you get the reference in the title.

I’m pretty sure there are random robots in three different countries (Germany, France and India, I think, based on my stats) that search daily for the phrase “moth flew up my nose.”

That’s weird, right? Even weirder that it leads them to me? Well..nah.

In looking back at some of the posts and the stats on them from my last five years writing this blog, the post with the most views has been the one I wrote about the time a moth traveled through my sinus cavity like the bus on Magic School Bus. Only I could feel it. And it was nasty.

(P.s. 8,615 views JUST on the homepage, not counting individual posts. WOOT.)

So that made me wonder. What else were the robots directing you to? Or (hopefully) what are the posts that the most people read? I figured the one about when I got appendicitis and proved everyone wrong about my hypochondria would be up there, but a couple of the others were a surprise.

So, without further ado – and whether the robots are to blame or these are peoples’ all-time faves – here are the top five most-read/clicked-on blog posts these past five years. And one to grow on.

5. The Girl Who Cried Appendecitis

“I spent an hour waiting to see the doctor at the hospital, during which time I watched an entire episode of Regis and Kelly, learned how to do The Dougie and realized that there may never NOT be a time when people don’t scream when they hear/see/smell/think about Justin Beiber. Oh, I also drank a lemonade spiked with dye that would make my insides change color so they could see my organs in the machine. Delicious.”

4. One year closer to 100
I turned 27 and it wasn’t that exciting. Also – I only accomplished like, two of the things I listed that I wanted to do that year. Whoops.

“There’s no specific things you only get to do once you turn 27, none that I know of anyway.”

3. New Year’s Eve Mystery: Cast of Characters

“You guys, I’ve wanted to host or attend a Murder Mystery party for a long time. Like, ever since the Clue-ish episode of Saved By The Bell. And then again when Hef and the girls did one at the Playboy Mansion on an episode of Girls Next Door (I miss that show…the original one, not the second group).”

2. Nothing rhymes with purple

“Know what else is purple? Just about everything associated with the Walk to End Alzheimer’s. It’s the walk my family and some friends and I are taking part in in a few weeks and even though they give out purple shirts there, our team will be wearing our own, complete with little light purple elephants.”

1. One time this moth flew up my nose

“I have no idea why bugs like to fly at or around or in my nose, but I don’t think it’s fair. I don’t understand it and it’s gross. There’s no light coming from my nose attracting them and I don’t think I have a huge nose or nostrils or whatever. Just lucky I guess.”

Oh and the honorable mention goes to the blog post that started it all:
The origination of the story of the Kentucky Bourbon Boys.

“2:30 p.m. Jack tells us how they smell-test the bourbon and mentions how you “put the cork in the bunghole.” That’s the word they use. Our group laughs. Because we are children.”

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Things I would rather do than go to any kind of doctors’ appointment

I have to go to the doctor tomorrow. I hate doctors’ appointments. Of any kind. Pay money, sit in a cold room and wait for them to tell you (99 percent of the time) what you already knew when you came in there – that you’re fine. Or, they tell you what your mom told you for free 10 minutes ago on the phone – you have bronchitis. Only difference? The doctors can write prescriptions.

There are many things I’d rather do than go to tomorrow’s doctors’ appointment. I’ll list them for you.

I’d rather:
• Watch the Kardashian wedding in its entirety
• Have my appendix put back in
• Listen to a Sugarland album
• Take an eight-hour plane ride again
• Cheer for the Yankees
• Go Black Friday shopping
• Stay in a hoarder’s house for an hour

I could go on, but I won’t. I need to start mentally preparing for tomorrow’s appointment. UGH.

And then it got quiet

I know what you’re thinking.

“OH she has all this time to write and gets us used to reading something every day and then goes and heals from surgery and we never hear from her again.”

No? Not thinking that?

OK. Well. I haven’t written in a week, yes, on account of rejoining the real world after two weeks of acting like a sloth – the animal, not the deadly sin, because it was totally not by choice – is some hard stuff.

Did you know that in the real world you can’t take two naps a day? And people don’t bring you food anymore? And you have to wait until you’re like, waiting in the waiting room at the doctors office to get any Angry Birds playing done.

Have I mentioned though that I’m beyond happy to be back among the living? Seriously. Don’t misinterpret what I said back there.

In other news, I’m pretty sure they made my belly button bigger and I’ve learned that you don’t lift heavy things – including chubby 10-month-olds no matter how cute they may be – until you’re about a month recovered. ‘Cause you’ll pay. And it won’t even be worth it ’cause the kid will just cry the majority of the time.

Oh and even if you sit out on the bowling that your friends are doing, just people-watching at a bar will make you dog-tired.

Maybe I was so tired because I saw things I couldn’t un-see. Like girls that get dressed to go out but don’t look at themselves before they do. Or they don’t have friends that are nice enough to say “Hey, listen, you might want to change ’cause that dress is 8 sizes too small. Also, I can see your business when you dance to Lady Gaga. And every other song. And when you walk up stairs.” Ladies. Has Britney taught you nothing?

So yeah. Get ready for more content. Like some awesome amazing kick-ass special stuff, because rumor has it some website is approaching its second birthday… (I’ll give you a hint, the girl who writes it, her name starts with L and ends with aura. Good luck figuring it out.) … and birthdays always mean good things.

And to answer your question, yes. We will always accept birthday presents.

The Girl Who Cried Appendicitis

An appendix looks very similar to a small dog’s tail. And it’s a completely useless organ that we haven’t needed since we were cave-people. And every so often, it swells up and causes the worst pain you’ll ever feel, after which a nice lady will tell you it needs to come out. And then a weirdo that’s supposed to give you your anesthesia explains the process and freaks you out a little because seriously, who annunciates that much?

I’ve been saying my appendix needs to go for a while. Years, in fact. And finally, last Thursday, I was right.

Ask my parents, sisters, or really, anybody that knows me at all. I’m a hypochondriac, remember?

(And then there was that whole thing with the eye cyst and the bone island and whatnot.)

Since about high school, every time I have had severe stomach/abdominal pain, one of the first things out of my mouth has always been “It’s probably appendicitis.” Cue everyone telling me I was pointing to a spot on the wrong side of my body – my appendix was nowhere near there, plus if it was appendicitis, I would know it. Plus, you know, I worry too much.

Cut to Tuesday, when my stomach started hurting something awful. I told a co-worker it must have been something I ate – a lunch that included a couple dairy products, re-enforcing my suspicion that I am mildly lactose intolerant. Seriously, I get a stomachache whenever I eat macaroni.

After work I went home and crawled into my bed and complained and whined and called my mom, like I do whenever anything is wrong. Anthony asked what was wrong with me and when I didn’t know, I did what anyone in pain would do – I looked it up on the Internet.

According to WebMD, Wikipedia and some other random websites that came up when I searched “intense abdominal pain” it could have been any number of things. Imagine that. The responses varied from “Uh, you need to go to the bathroom” to “REMOVE APPENDIX NOW.” Naturally, I thought it was the latter.

Went to work Wednesday where it hurt to do any of the following: sit, stand, lean, drive, eat, breathe, think about what was possibly wrong with my body. I complained most of the day, talking to a friend at work who also happens to be a hypochondriac. Eventually, it got unbearable and when I couldn’t take it anymore I asked to leave with the promise of an early-morning doctor’s appointment the next day.

After another night of lots of pain and not a lot of sleep, I rolled out of bed at 7:30 a.m. Thursday to get to my 8 a.m. doctor’s appointment. She was perplexed but, like the Internet, thought it could probably just be that I needed to use the restroom. Just to be safe, though, she sent me to the hospital. For a CT scan. NOT SCARY AT ALL.

I spent an hour waiting to see the doctor at the hospital, during which time I watched an entire episode of Regis and Kelly, learned how to do The Dougie and realized that there may never NOT be a time when people don’t scream when they hear/see/smell/think about Justin Beiber. Oh, I also drank a lemonade spiked with dye that would make my insides change color so they could see my organs in the machine. Delicious.

Guys, I had to get an IV. And lay on this thing that pushed me into the middle of a giant metal doughnut-looking thing and hold my breath for a minute, which hurt – on account of JUST BREATHING HURT.

Afterwards, when I was thinking of worst-case scenarios, I kind of hoped it was appendicitis, because then they could just get it done and I’d get medicine and it’d be over with and I’d be under anesthesia so I wouldn’t have to deal with anything. Fifteen minutes later, I was right. I was texting my mom and roommate – sorry Jennifer, you’ll be up there next time I have an organ removed – telling them that after years of speculation, my appendix had finally decided it was time to go. What hypochondria? Yeah. Don’t ever doubt me again.

They rolled me upstairs in a wheelchair and put a gown on and an IV in AGAIN and I waited for my parents to show up. I was seriously the only patient in the hospital. And I didn’t know what to expect at all. All I could think of was that episode of Full House where Becky’s going into labor with the twins and Jesse has to have his appendix taken out and he screams a lot but gets really good drugs.

The surgery was quick but left me looking like I’d gotten in a prison fight. My stomach still, four days later, looks like I got shanked – there’s three giant bruises on my abdomen where they went in to get that stupid thing. I have stitches that will allegedly dissolve on their own and I have to not use steps, drive, play Wii or do much of anything but sit here for the next five days.

Luckily for you – that means lot of reading material. For me, that means lots of naps, Netflix, court television and wishing I could be anywhere but confined to my bed/apartment waiting for my stomach not to hurt.

I still can’t believe I had to have the surgery. And I can’t believe after years of saying it was my appendix I was finally right.

But I was.

BOO-YAH.

Guess who’s back…

After almost two months – the majority of which I was computer-less at home – a couple holidays, the beginning of a new job and the removal of an appendix, guess what. I’m back.

Get excited.

No, seriously. Because it’s looking like I’m gonna have copious (hey vocab word) amounts of free time in the next week so you’re gonna see so many updates from me you might get annoyed. Or you might love it. To each their own.

I have a lot to tell you all about and I can’t wait to do it. But for now, enjoy these songs to remind you that, um, I’M BACK! I’ve missed this.

And yes, both of those artists are favorites of mine. I’m eclectic like that.