Ok. So we all know I have bouts of insomnia. No big. I thought I might take a relaxing shower. I'm a *ahem* tad OCD so I shower in the same routine every time. I washed my hair, soaped up my pouf, began washing my bod. I went to wash my left leg, looked down...... And there was a big-ass spider CRAWLING. UP. MY. FREAKING. LEG. I squealed like a girl, threw down my pouf, and got the hell out of the shower. I don't know if I even rinsed off. Along with never sleeping again, I may never shower again.
Wonder where I can get some waterless soap and shampoo?
Also, I'm pretty much the shittiest blogger in the history of blogging. I know it's been like a month since I posted.... I promise to regale you with my "interesting" adventures in a couple of days. I'm trying to stay ahead of my class work.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Saturday, October 5, 2013
This Will Be The Most Rambling And Convoluted Post Ever So Feel Free To Skip It If You Want To (But I Wouldn't)
Wow. What a ca-razy several weeks! Lemme see if I can recap without boring your brain or losing your attention.
So it's been a month since I posted. Well, let me tell you, I feel plenty guilty about that, but apparently not guilty enough to do anything about it before now. As you may or may not know, we are moving to Houston closer to the end of the year. It seems.... real now, somehow. But first....
Around September 11th I started feeling that wonky feeling. You know the one you get in the back of your throat when you are about to get sick? Yeah, that one. Anyway, that evening I started feeling bad. By the weekend I felt like crap. Not just regular crap, either. The kind of crap that was stepped in, scraped off and stepped in again. I just HAD to start feeling better, though. Monday the 16th was going to be a special day. I had a VIP seat to see the luscious and yummy Adam Levine (and the rest of those Maroon 5 guys) in Atlanta. I had gotten the ticket ($300!!) in May. It was a Mother's Day/birthday/Christmas present from the hubs. I had been counting down for months! Monday rolled around and I couldn't even muster the energy to take a shower much less ride over 2 hours and then sit through about a 4 hour long concert. My ticket was wasted. I cried and cried. There went my chance to be Adam's love slave. Oh, well. I figure after the new wore off I'd be bored anyway...
So, here it is the 16th and I still feel funky as ever. After missing work the previous Thursday and Friday, I skipped work today, too. I got a doctor appointment for Wednesday. Oh, and did I mention I had broken out in some weird boils/pox/blisters? No? Hmmm... Well, I did. All over my face, back and chest. I looked like I had leprosy. It was worse than chicken pox because these suckers were almost open wounds and they H-U-R-T.
Wednesday rolls around and I head to the doctor. She thinks it's a viral infection and loads me up with an antibiotic, an antiviral, some low grade pain meds and a goo to put on the boils. I thought for sure I'd start feeling better soon....
Bahahahahahaha! (That's Life, laughing at me.) By now it's Thursday the 19th. Happy frickin' birthday to me. I wake up to my wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles and toes stiff. Also, my feet are so swollen I couldn't even get my flip flop between my toes. Needless to say it was hard to get around for several days.
By the beginning of the next week my feet, particularly my left, was still so swollen. At one point my poor toes were turning blue. I ended up going to the emergency room. After a perfunctory exam and a chest x-ray they declared yes, it was viral. Oh, and we don't treat viruses. So basically I hung out at the hospital for hours only to be told to go home. I ended up stopping the previous medication, and when I did, the swelling went down. Finally!
So that brings us up to this week. Terry left Tuesday for Texas. (Say that 3 times fast!) He won't be back until Thanksgiving. This will be the longest we've spent apart in about 13 years. Monday night Maddie was distraught. She really didn't have any idea about exactly how long it would be before she saw her Daddy again. But, like the brave little trooper she is, she got up Tuesday morning and got on the bus dry-eyed. She and I had a good snuggle and cry that night, though.
Wednesday I began my temporary journey as a single parent. If this week is any indication, I'm pretty much gonna suck at it. It will either make mine and Maddie's relationship stronger or one of us will kill the other. It will also either make me more responsible, or I may just give in and give up all together (not really).
Now you're up to date. She has been doing well in school. Well, better since Miss Smith had a come-to-Jesus talk with a couple of bratty boys who were teasing and tormenting her. I've been doing well in school, too. Well.... except I'm pretty sure my Criminal Justice professor is a hard-ass and I'm gonna fail his stupid class. Other than that, though...
So here it is a beautiful Saturday. I alternate between piddling on the computer and packing some of our nonessential stuff. I'm out of boxes, though, so I may have to make a run to the liquor store.
For BOXES!
But.... since I'll already be there.............
So it's been a month since I posted. Well, let me tell you, I feel plenty guilty about that, but apparently not guilty enough to do anything about it before now. As you may or may not know, we are moving to Houston closer to the end of the year. It seems.... real now, somehow. But first....
Around September 11th I started feeling that wonky feeling. You know the one you get in the back of your throat when you are about to get sick? Yeah, that one. Anyway, that evening I started feeling bad. By the weekend I felt like crap. Not just regular crap, either. The kind of crap that was stepped in, scraped off and stepped in again. I just HAD to start feeling better, though. Monday the 16th was going to be a special day. I had a VIP seat to see the luscious and yummy Adam Levine (and the rest of those Maroon 5 guys) in Atlanta. I had gotten the ticket ($300!!) in May. It was a Mother's Day/birthday/Christmas present from the hubs. I had been counting down for months! Monday rolled around and I couldn't even muster the energy to take a shower much less ride over 2 hours and then sit through about a 4 hour long concert. My ticket was wasted. I cried and cried. There went my chance to be Adam's love slave. Oh, well. I figure after the new wore off I'd be bored anyway...
So, here it is the 16th and I still feel funky as ever. After missing work the previous Thursday and Friday, I skipped work today, too. I got a doctor appointment for Wednesday. Oh, and did I mention I had broken out in some weird boils/pox/blisters? No? Hmmm... Well, I did. All over my face, back and chest. I looked like I had leprosy. It was worse than chicken pox because these suckers were almost open wounds and they H-U-R-T.
Wednesday rolls around and I head to the doctor. She thinks it's a viral infection and loads me up with an antibiotic, an antiviral, some low grade pain meds and a goo to put on the boils. I thought for sure I'd start feeling better soon....
Bahahahahahaha! (That's Life, laughing at me.) By now it's Thursday the 19th. Happy frickin' birthday to me. I wake up to my wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles and toes stiff. Also, my feet are so swollen I couldn't even get my flip flop between my toes. Needless to say it was hard to get around for several days.
By the beginning of the next week my feet, particularly my left, was still so swollen. At one point my poor toes were turning blue. I ended up going to the emergency room. After a perfunctory exam and a chest x-ray they declared yes, it was viral. Oh, and we don't treat viruses. So basically I hung out at the hospital for hours only to be told to go home. I ended up stopping the previous medication, and when I did, the swelling went down. Finally!
So that brings us up to this week. Terry left Tuesday for Texas. (Say that 3 times fast!) He won't be back until Thanksgiving. This will be the longest we've spent apart in about 13 years. Monday night Maddie was distraught. She really didn't have any idea about exactly how long it would be before she saw her Daddy again. But, like the brave little trooper she is, she got up Tuesday morning and got on the bus dry-eyed. She and I had a good snuggle and cry that night, though.
Wednesday I began my temporary journey as a single parent. If this week is any indication, I'm pretty much gonna suck at it. It will either make mine and Maddie's relationship stronger or one of us will kill the other. It will also either make me more responsible, or I may just give in and give up all together (not really).
Now you're up to date. She has been doing well in school. Well, better since Miss Smith had a come-to-Jesus talk with a couple of bratty boys who were teasing and tormenting her. I've been doing well in school, too. Well.... except I'm pretty sure my Criminal Justice professor is a hard-ass and I'm gonna fail his stupid class. Other than that, though...
So here it is a beautiful Saturday. I alternate between piddling on the computer and packing some of our nonessential stuff. I'm out of boxes, though, so I may have to make a run to the liquor store.
For BOXES!
But.... since I'll already be there.............
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
The One In Which I Pack Up All Our Stuff And Haul It To.......
Texas.
Yee haw, y'all. I'm gonna be a real cowgirl. Probably not, but I will have to adapt. It is official. Today, Terry accepted the Photographic Manager position that he flew out to interview for last week. We're moving to Houston.
Know anything about Houston? Lemme just tell ya.
1. It's hot. And nooooo not a dry heat either. Houston is only about 70 miles from the Gulf, so it's just as frickin' humid there as it is here.
2. Nothing but dirt and cowboys grow in Texas. I guess no garden next year.
3. It's the 4th largest city in all of the US. Which, I assume, means it's really, really crowded.
4. They have three bypasses. THREE.
5. Their highways are toll roads.
6.It is almost a thousand miles away from all that I know.
7. Drive time will be about 12 hours. That's practically a whole day. Yeah, I'm looking forward to spending 12 hours listening to Maddie ask "Are we there yet?".
8. (This one probably should have been on up the list, but it's not a list of priorities, people. Geez. Stop judging. I'm having a moment here.) Terry will be leaving to head out there at the end of the month. Which means.... I'll basically be a single parent. For almost three months. To a small, stubborn(er), teenaged attituded up me.
9. I don't know anyone in Texas. Except maybe George Bush. And I know Jenny (aka The Bloggess) lives somewhere in Texas. Maybe one of them will invite me over so I can know someone besides Terry and Maddie in the whole freaking state.
10. (This one is totally selfish and makes me a horrible person and generally crappy mom) When Maddie gets on my last nerve, and she will (probably before the end of the first week), I don't have any unsuspecting grandparents to pawn her off on.
Finally, after all that, just the logistics of the whole thing makes me want to hyperventilate and hide in a dark closet with my pillow. Living arrangements, car, school, utilities, familiarizing myself with the surroundings. That's one of the big ones. My sense of direction is..... we'll say "lacking". As in, lacking thereof. I purdy much a'int got nary'n. (I'm trying to learn the language. I may be terrified, but that's no reason to slack off...)
Plus, I don't know if the state can handle my awesomeness. Especially with the aforementioned people I know in the same state. I mean, really. I come fully equipped with quick wit, snark and general badassery.
Oh, OH! AND I don't even own a cowboy hat. Or cowboy boots, for that matter. Ooooooohhhhh.... maybe this means I can go buy some! I haven't been shoe shopping in ages. Well, unless you count getting Maddie's school shoes, and since I didn't get anything I totally do NOT count it.
Seriously, though. I feel like the night before school starts. I wonder if I will make any friends. I wonder if they'll like me. I worry that Maddie will hate the new school we put her in. I worry if they'll be mean to her. What if we get out there and something happens? We can't just hop in the car and come back "home". And we damn sure don't have the cash to spend on plane tickets. I know I'm probably over analyzing everything, but I have OCD and I am strongly anti-change.
Ohmigod, y'all. I just realized something. Houston isn't far from the gulf. Where there are sharks. Texas is in tornado alley. Where there are tornadoes.
Get where I'm going with that?? Just my luck and we'll get a mother honkin' SHARKNADO! Which might be entertaining, as long as I stay inside.
For real, though. As much whining, bitching and moaning I've done, and the lots more that I still have to do before we leave, I have absolute faith in my husband. I know deep down this is what he needs and what is best for our family. Everything has fallen into place too easily for this not to be thIe right thing.
So. It won't be too long before I will be an official Houstonite. Wait. Houstonian? Houstoner? Whatever. I'm sure they'll let me know when they initiate me into the state.
P.S. Keep this on the down low, 'kay? We haven't told Maddie yet. Or most of our family. So, shhhhhhhhhh.
P.P.S. Just so you'll know how neurotic I am....
*When this move was initially proposed, I did what anyone would do. I Googled Houston. One of the sites had stats and stuff (read: boring, so I didn't read it) and one thing it mentioned was that Houston was in Harris County. My mind frantically started thinking of where I had heard that. Oh. My. God. That's where Leatherface is from!! Ho-ly crap! We're gonna move there and be murdered in our sleep. So I Google mapped and realized Leatherface lives in TRAVIS County. Whew. What a relief! Oh, but wait. NOW I remember when I've heard Harris County before. They film "The First 48" in Harris County Texas. For those of you who don't know what "The First 48" is, well, it's a real-life-follow-detectives-around-to-try-to-catch-murderes TV show on A&E.
Well, hell. Looks like we'll be murdered after all.
Yee haw, y'all. I'm gonna be a real cowgirl. Probably not, but I will have to adapt. It is official. Today, Terry accepted the Photographic Manager position that he flew out to interview for last week. We're moving to Houston.
Know anything about Houston? Lemme just tell ya.
1. It's hot. And nooooo not a dry heat either. Houston is only about 70 miles from the Gulf, so it's just as frickin' humid there as it is here.
2. Nothing but dirt and cowboys grow in Texas. I guess no garden next year.
3. It's the 4th largest city in all of the US. Which, I assume, means it's really, really crowded.
4. They have three bypasses. THREE.
5. Their highways are toll roads.
6.It is almost a thousand miles away from all that I know.
7. Drive time will be about 12 hours. That's practically a whole day. Yeah, I'm looking forward to spending 12 hours listening to Maddie ask "Are we there yet?".
8. (This one probably should have been on up the list, but it's not a list of priorities, people. Geez. Stop judging. I'm having a moment here.) Terry will be leaving to head out there at the end of the month. Which means.... I'll basically be a single parent. For almost three months. To a small, stubborn(er), teenaged attituded up me.
9. I don't know anyone in Texas. Except maybe George Bush. And I know Jenny (aka The Bloggess) lives somewhere in Texas. Maybe one of them will invite me over so I can know someone besides Terry and Maddie in the whole freaking state.
10. (This one is totally selfish and makes me a horrible person and generally crappy mom) When Maddie gets on my last nerve, and she will (probably before the end of the first week), I don't have any unsuspecting grandparents to pawn her off on.
Finally, after all that, just the logistics of the whole thing makes me want to hyperventilate and hide in a dark closet with my pillow. Living arrangements, car, school, utilities, familiarizing myself with the surroundings. That's one of the big ones. My sense of direction is..... we'll say "lacking". As in, lacking thereof. I purdy much a'int got nary'n. (I'm trying to learn the language. I may be terrified, but that's no reason to slack off...)
Plus, I don't know if the state can handle my awesomeness. Especially with the aforementioned people I know in the same state. I mean, really. I come fully equipped with quick wit, snark and general badassery.
Oh, OH! AND I don't even own a cowboy hat. Or cowboy boots, for that matter. Ooooooohhhhh.... maybe this means I can go buy some! I haven't been shoe shopping in ages. Well, unless you count getting Maddie's school shoes, and since I didn't get anything I totally do NOT count it.
Seriously, though. I feel like the night before school starts. I wonder if I will make any friends. I wonder if they'll like me. I worry that Maddie will hate the new school we put her in. I worry if they'll be mean to her. What if we get out there and something happens? We can't just hop in the car and come back "home". And we damn sure don't have the cash to spend on plane tickets. I know I'm probably over analyzing everything, but I have OCD and I am strongly anti-change.
Ohmigod, y'all. I just realized something. Houston isn't far from the gulf. Where there are sharks. Texas is in tornado alley. Where there are tornadoes.
Get where I'm going with that?? Just my luck and we'll get a mother honkin' SHARKNADO! Which might be entertaining, as long as I stay inside.
For real, though. As much whining, bitching and moaning I've done, and the lots more that I still have to do before we leave, I have absolute faith in my husband. I know deep down this is what he needs and what is best for our family. Everything has fallen into place too easily for this not to be thIe right thing.
So. It won't be too long before I will be an official Houstonite. Wait. Houstonian? Houstoner? Whatever. I'm sure they'll let me know when they initiate me into the state.
P.S. Keep this on the down low, 'kay? We haven't told Maddie yet. Or most of our family. So, shhhhhhhhhh.
P.P.S. Just so you'll know how neurotic I am....
*When this move was initially proposed, I did what anyone would do. I Googled Houston. One of the sites had stats and stuff (read: boring, so I didn't read it) and one thing it mentioned was that Houston was in Harris County. My mind frantically started thinking of where I had heard that. Oh. My. God. That's where Leatherface is from!! Ho-ly crap! We're gonna move there and be murdered in our sleep. So I Google mapped and realized Leatherface lives in TRAVIS County. Whew. What a relief! Oh, but wait. NOW I remember when I've heard Harris County before. They film "The First 48" in Harris County Texas. For those of you who don't know what "The First 48" is, well, it's a real-life-follow-detectives-around-to-try-to-catch-murderes TV show on A&E.
Well, hell. Looks like we'll be murdered after all.
Monday, September 2, 2013
It's Only Day 8 And I'm *Already* Feeling Stabby
By now you must know that I've returned to college life. If you do not know this, go here.
So, it is now a whopping 8 days into the semester and I'm ready to scream. The word I am about to throw down has been known to cause riots. It is a horrible, horrible word. This word strikes revulsion in the hearts of millions. Well, maybe thousands. Ok, ok. Just me. It strikes revulsion in me. The word is.......
SOCIOLOGY.
Even now I'm cringing. It makes my eye tic, my palms sweat. I get the distinct feeling of wanting to gouge my own eyeballs out with a spork. Saying it out loud makes me throw up in my mouth a little. It has become the new bane of my existence. I have never, never despised a class so thoroughly since my 9th grade Honors English class. And then it wasn't the class (I love English and have petitioned for a paid position on the Grammar Police squad. Still waiting for my acceptance letter...) so much as it was the hag who called herself a teacher. Lemme break it down for you.
I am not a social butterfly. I do not have many relationships. I don't flit from friend to friend, go to the mall just to hang out (or for anything, really), and I'm not attached permanently to my cell phone. My dance card is never full.
My idea of a perfect day/week/vacation is me, alone, with a few good books. And cheesecake.
I am, however, a concrete thinker. I believe in a black-and-white system for almost everything. To me, there are very few instances where the possibility of grey even comes into play.
Yeahhhhh..... Ummmm... Attention dumb-ass me: Sociology is an abstract concept. Aaaaaaand? It's the freaking abstract study of PEOPLE. You know, people. Those annoying things that you don't like (and barely tolerate). Messy, loud, obnoxious, demanding, opinionated, rednecky, shitty driving people. Massive, hoard-y amounts of the public. It basically is my worst academic nightmare in the form of a rather innocuous looking book.
I have to, somehow, get through reading 13 more chapters, do chapter quizzes for each one, 4 unit tests, a video reaction paper (the hell?), and some sort of essay. OH! And since the course is online, in lieu of physically attending class, I have to participate in discussions. I figure they are like message boards. Doesn't sound so bad, right? <insert annoying buzzer sound here> WRONG!
There are 4 mandatory discussions; one for each of the units. The instructor poses a couple of questions and/or topics that you have to demonstrate your grasp of. Also, you have to read everyone else's rhetoric. Not just read, but comment on two of them on two different days. I looked ahead to see what the topics were gonna be.
Oh. Em. Gee. Y'all. Every one is how society affects this, and expound on such-and-such theory. Every. Single. One. I mean, theories, for crying out loud. THEORIES! They are just one step removed from guesses!! Guesses, people! How much more abstract can you get?
Anyway, I just took a break from pulling my hair out to write this. I guess I better get back to it... before I decide to chuck the book out in the yard. I better tell Terry to make sure we don't have any sporks handy.....
So, it is now a whopping 8 days into the semester and I'm ready to scream. The word I am about to throw down has been known to cause riots. It is a horrible, horrible word. This word strikes revulsion in the hearts of millions. Well, maybe thousands. Ok, ok. Just me. It strikes revulsion in me. The word is.......
SOCIOLOGY.
Even now I'm cringing. It makes my eye tic, my palms sweat. I get the distinct feeling of wanting to gouge my own eyeballs out with a spork. Saying it out loud makes me throw up in my mouth a little. It has become the new bane of my existence. I have never, never despised a class so thoroughly since my 9th grade Honors English class. And then it wasn't the class (I love English and have petitioned for a paid position on the Grammar Police squad. Still waiting for my acceptance letter...) so much as it was the hag who called herself a teacher. Lemme break it down for you.
I am not a social butterfly. I do not have many relationships. I don't flit from friend to friend, go to the mall just to hang out (or for anything, really), and I'm not attached permanently to my cell phone. My dance card is never full.
My idea of a perfect day/week/vacation is me, alone, with a few good books. And cheesecake.
I am, however, a concrete thinker. I believe in a black-and-white system for almost everything. To me, there are very few instances where the possibility of grey even comes into play.
Yeahhhhh..... Ummmm... Attention dumb-ass me: Sociology is an abstract concept. Aaaaaaand? It's the freaking abstract study of PEOPLE. You know, people. Those annoying things that you don't like (and barely tolerate). Messy, loud, obnoxious, demanding, opinionated, rednecky, shitty driving people. Massive, hoard-y amounts of the public. It basically is my worst academic nightmare in the form of a rather innocuous looking book.
 |
| It totally doesn't *seem* like it could incite homicide.... |
I have to, somehow, get through reading 13 more chapters, do chapter quizzes for each one, 4 unit tests, a video reaction paper (the hell?), and some sort of essay. OH! And since the course is online, in lieu of physically attending class, I have to participate in discussions. I figure they are like message boards. Doesn't sound so bad, right? <insert annoying buzzer sound here> WRONG!
There are 4 mandatory discussions; one for each of the units. The instructor poses a couple of questions and/or topics that you have to demonstrate your grasp of. Also, you have to read everyone else's rhetoric. Not just read, but comment on two of them on two different days. I looked ahead to see what the topics were gonna be.
Oh. Em. Gee. Y'all. Every one is how society affects this, and expound on such-and-such theory. Every. Single. One. I mean, theories, for crying out loud. THEORIES! They are just one step removed from guesses!! Guesses, people! How much more abstract can you get?
Anyway, I just took a break from pulling my hair out to write this. I guess I better get back to it... before I decide to chuck the book out in the yard. I better tell Terry to make sure we don't have any sporks handy.....
Monday, August 26, 2013
There I Was, Just Minding My Own Business.....
...having my dreams of Adam Levine and peanut butter PopTarts, when BAM! Out of the blue <insert horribly disgusting sounds of kid barfing>. I know there is nothing I love more than being woken from a dead sleep to puke in my bed. Except maybe going around again on the vomit comet 30 minutes later after the sheets have been changed and everyone settled back down. So, yeah. Starting off the day at 4 a.m. to a sick kid isn't great. But you know what's even less great? Starting off the day before school starts with vomit. We are supposed to go register for 1st grade and meet her teacher at 4 p.m. today. I seriously hope she's feeling better by then.
OH! And THEN you know what happened? An hour or so after the last visit from "The Exorcist" (ya know. The whole projectile vomiting thing? Anyway..) guess who else starts to feel a rumbly in their tummy? If you said me, then you're right. You win eleventy bajillion dollars. The check's in the mail...
So, here I am. Five-o-freakin'-clock in the morning. My last day to "sleep in" until 7 a.m. and I've been up almost 2 hours already. Maddie is settled in snugly beside her daddy sound asleep. And me? Well, the tummy is still rumbly and there are some urgent issues there, but no vomit.
Yet.
OH! And THEN you know what happened? An hour or so after the last visit from "The Exorcist" (ya know. The whole projectile vomiting thing? Anyway..) guess who else starts to feel a rumbly in their tummy? If you said me, then you're right. You win eleventy bajillion dollars. The check's in the mail...
So, here I am. Five-o-freakin'-clock in the morning. My last day to "sleep in" until 7 a.m. and I've been up almost 2 hours already. Maddie is settled in snugly beside her daddy sound asleep. And me? Well, the tummy is still rumbly and there are some urgent issues there, but no vomit.
Yet.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
An OMG-Life-Revelations Moment Due To A Kid-Free Weekend
Last weekend the hubs had to shoot pictures in Memphis. Since he was going to have to leave before I got home from work ,we let Maddie stay Thursday night with my mom. I picked her up after work on Friday. I then had the brilliant idea to go see my grandmother and then take my 14 year old twin boys out to eat. Maddie stayed with Grandmother while the guys and I went and ate Mexican. Afterward, I hung out at Grandmother's house for about an hour. I was gathering up my stuff (and Maddie's stuff that she has a tendency to leave in a trail all over the house) getting ready to head back home when Maddie asked if she could stay the night with Grandmother. Ummm..... Hellz yeah! Terry out of town and Maddie with Grandmother?! Party time, suckas! Me....home alone....with only the dog (who sleeps like all. the. time.) for a whole night?? Sign me up. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. So around 9:30 Friday night I headed home. Alone. Just me. I was able to roll down all the windows and jack up the tunes for the first time in.... I don't even know how long. I was essentially footloose and fancy free for a whole night. What to do, what to do... I couldn't think of a damn thing so I just went home. BUT, I was able to watch a whole movie without having to pause it to get her something to eat. Or something to drink. Or watch while she did an interpretive dance of the butterfly. Or whatever. Did you hear that?! I didn't have to get up One. Single. Time. I plopped my ever-widening ass down in my recliner and I veg-ed. I watched some TV, played on the computer, and basically had myself a really good "me" time. The next time I looked up, it was 5 in the morning. Yup. I had stayed up all night doing my thang.
Surprisingly, I wasn't tired at all so I got some other stuff done Saturday morning and afternoon. When I called to find out what time I should go get Maddie, she informed me she was staying another night. WHAT?! I thought I must be delirious from lack of shut-eye, but no, I heard correctly. My brain was going, "WTF? Two whole days with no husband and no kid?? S.C.O.R.E!". (Yeah, I know, my brain's kind of a selfish bitch.) So with nothing on my to-do list and nowhere I had to be, I proceeded to have another 24 hours of "me" time. Really it was the same tune, just a different verse. More TV, movies on Netflix and gaming on the computer. I didn't even get out of my pajamas all day Saturday!! I was completely and utterly self indulgent. The best part? I didn't even feel guilty about it. (Ok, ok. I *may* have felt a smidgen of guilt. But I squashed it like a bug.)
What, you may be asking, were my big life revelations? Well, let me tell you.
1. My ass is too heavy and my bones too old to sit/lay in a recliner for 36 hours straight.
2. I eat like a teenager when there isn't anyone else here for me to feed. (For breakfast Saturday morning, I ate a s'more. A graham cracker, a little Hershey bar and a microwaved marshmallow. It was yummy!)
3. Facebook games (ie: Candy Crush, Farm Heroes Saga, Papa Pear, etc.) will suck you in. Seriously. I really believe they are rigged so that you lose a couple of lives but then you win and move on until your lives replenish. I may or may not have played Candy Crush for more than 2 hours. Straight.
So after a purely decadent weekend, Sunday dawned. I took a (much needed) shower, put on makeup and got dressed. An added bonus of having Maddie stay with Grandmother is that she (Grandmother, not Maddie) cooks a huge meal on Sunday afternoons. I had a wonderful lunch to top off my grand alone-but-not-lonely weekend. After a round of hugs and goodbyes I finally wrangled her (Maddie, not Grandmother) and all her junk to the car. I thought for sure we'd have a really good day since we hadn't been in each others' pockets and on each others' nerves all weekend. Well, I was wrong. Not just wrong, but WRONG. She apparently became possessed by the grouchiest of demons while she was away. Geez she was hateful. At one point Sunday evening I had to send her to her room to keep from killing her. After a peaceful and quiet couple of days boy was I ever paying for it now.
Was it worth it? I wondered to myself. Yep, because she was so tired from playing all weekend that she was in bed by 9:00. And, of course, I wasn't too far behind her considering the last time I slept was a fitful 4 hours Thursday night.
Surprisingly, I wasn't tired at all so I got some other stuff done Saturday morning and afternoon. When I called to find out what time I should go get Maddie, she informed me she was staying another night. WHAT?! I thought I must be delirious from lack of shut-eye, but no, I heard correctly. My brain was going, "WTF? Two whole days with no husband and no kid?? S.C.O.R.E!". (Yeah, I know, my brain's kind of a selfish bitch.) So with nothing on my to-do list and nowhere I had to be, I proceeded to have another 24 hours of "me" time. Really it was the same tune, just a different verse. More TV, movies on Netflix and gaming on the computer. I didn't even get out of my pajamas all day Saturday!! I was completely and utterly self indulgent. The best part? I didn't even feel guilty about it. (Ok, ok. I *may* have felt a smidgen of guilt. But I squashed it like a bug.)
What, you may be asking, were my big life revelations? Well, let me tell you.
1. My ass is too heavy and my bones too old to sit/lay in a recliner for 36 hours straight.
2. I eat like a teenager when there isn't anyone else here for me to feed. (For breakfast Saturday morning, I ate a s'more. A graham cracker, a little Hershey bar and a microwaved marshmallow. It was yummy!)
3. Facebook games (ie: Candy Crush, Farm Heroes Saga, Papa Pear, etc.) will suck you in. Seriously. I really believe they are rigged so that you lose a couple of lives but then you win and move on until your lives replenish. I may or may not have played Candy Crush for more than 2 hours. Straight.
So after a purely decadent weekend, Sunday dawned. I took a (much needed) shower, put on makeup and got dressed. An added bonus of having Maddie stay with Grandmother is that she (Grandmother, not Maddie) cooks a huge meal on Sunday afternoons. I had a wonderful lunch to top off my grand alone-but-not-lonely weekend. After a round of hugs and goodbyes I finally wrangled her (Maddie, not Grandmother) and all her junk to the car. I thought for sure we'd have a really good day since we hadn't been in each others' pockets and on each others' nerves all weekend. Well, I was wrong. Not just wrong, but WRONG. She apparently became possessed by the grouchiest of demons while she was away. Geez she was hateful. At one point Sunday evening I had to send her to her room to keep from killing her. After a peaceful and quiet couple of days boy was I ever paying for it now.
Was it worth it? I wondered to myself. Yep, because she was so tired from playing all weekend that she was in bed by 9:00. And, of course, I wasn't too far behind her considering the last time I slept was a fitful 4 hours Thursday night.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho. It's Back To School I Go
Here is where my brain is reenacting the opening-ish scene from Grease 2. You know, the "Back To School Again" song and dance number.
So, in case you haven't guessed (honestly, people, I don't know how I could have made it any easier for you...) by now, I have enrolled for classes in the Fall. And by "Fall" I mean 3 weeks from now. And yes, classes plural. I am now enrolled in 3 classes for a total of 9 credit hours this semester.
I started seriously considering the whole school thing a couple of months ago. I began thinking that since it's evident that since I'm not going to be a kept woman I should find something I want to do. No easy feat, that. I don't want to do much of anything, Unless, of course, I could get paid sleeping late and reading. Or being a student. I would totally just take classes on everything if I could make that my job. Sadly, no one is beating down my door to offer me gobs of cash for doing things I love. So, if doing what I want is out, the next best thing is doing something I'm interested in. For me, it's the macabre.
There. I said it. I love morbid stuff. Dead people? Awesome. Crime scenes? The gorier the better. So, dear reader(s), I am pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice so I can gawk (legally) at crime scenes and poke at dead people (again, legally).
Right now, adding up the classes I took *cough* 13 years ago (and they do count), I only need 23 hours, I think. If my calculations are correct, and I hope to all that's holy they are, I could maybe, possibly, potentially graduate with my Associates in the Spring. Yep. Just 2 short semesters and I will have my piddly-ass Associates degree. Then, with luck, gray hair and time (oh, and lots of money), I will transfer into the Bacheleor program to finish up. I was a lot closer that I thought I was. Of course, all the minutia of daily living for 13 years kinda hampers the recollection of trifling matters like college degrees.
You may be asking yourself, "Well, smartypants, what classes are you going to take?". Honestly, I'm super glad you asked. Since I registered kinda late in the game I didn't have much of an option. Luckily, though, all 3 of the classes I'm taking are online. I can go to class in my pajamas. Without makeup. Naked. (I totally wouldn't go to class naked. Probably.)
Anyway... The 3 lucky recipients of my time are: Intro to Sociology, Intro to Criminal Justice, and Intro to Law Enforcement. All that I need is a math, my 2nd Environmental Science, Intro to the Legal Process, and Intro to Corrections.
So there you have it. My short term goal to complete my Associates. I seriously hope I can handle passing 3 classes. Especially since we have been without the internet at home for almost a year. I guess my in-laws will be seeing a LOT more of me....
*Photo credit for both images: Bing.com
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| What "back to school" looks like in my head |
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| What "back to school" means in reality |
So, in case you haven't guessed (honestly, people, I don't know how I could have made it any easier for you...) by now, I have enrolled for classes in the Fall. And by "Fall" I mean 3 weeks from now. And yes, classes plural. I am now enrolled in 3 classes for a total of 9 credit hours this semester.
I started seriously considering the whole school thing a couple of months ago. I began thinking that since it's evident that since I'm not going to be a kept woman I should find something I want to do. No easy feat, that. I don't want to do much of anything, Unless, of course, I could get paid sleeping late and reading. Or being a student. I would totally just take classes on everything if I could make that my job. Sadly, no one is beating down my door to offer me gobs of cash for doing things I love. So, if doing what I want is out, the next best thing is doing something I'm interested in. For me, it's the macabre.
There. I said it. I love morbid stuff. Dead people? Awesome. Crime scenes? The gorier the better. So, dear reader(s), I am pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice so I can gawk (legally) at crime scenes and poke at dead people (again, legally).
Right now, adding up the classes I took *cough* 13 years ago (and they do count), I only need 23 hours, I think. If my calculations are correct, and I hope to all that's holy they are, I could maybe, possibly, potentially graduate with my Associates in the Spring. Yep. Just 2 short semesters and I will have my piddly-ass Associates degree. Then, with luck, gray hair and time (oh, and lots of money), I will transfer into the Bacheleor program to finish up. I was a lot closer that I thought I was. Of course, all the minutia of daily living for 13 years kinda hampers the recollection of trifling matters like college degrees.
You may be asking yourself, "Well, smartypants, what classes are you going to take?". Honestly, I'm super glad you asked. Since I registered kinda late in the game I didn't have much of an option. Luckily, though, all 3 of the classes I'm taking are online. I can go to class in my pajamas. Without makeup. Naked. (I totally wouldn't go to class naked. Probably.)
Anyway... The 3 lucky recipients of my time are: Intro to Sociology, Intro to Criminal Justice, and Intro to Law Enforcement. All that I need is a math, my 2nd Environmental Science, Intro to the Legal Process, and Intro to Corrections.
So there you have it. My short term goal to complete my Associates. I seriously hope I can handle passing 3 classes. Especially since we have been without the internet at home for almost a year. I guess my in-laws will be seeing a LOT more of me....
*Photo credit for both images: Bing.com
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
I Wish I Had A Good Excuse.....
I've been MIA for a couple of weeks. I wish I could say it was because I was volunteering at a soup kitchen or rocking baby orphans, but alas, I can not. In truth, I've just been kinda lazy. Also, Candy Crush is Satan's whore mistress and I've been her bitch. I swore, swore, that I wasn't going to get started on that. Well, as they say about good intentions... I figured out how they suck you in. So, you're stuck on a level. For like, a week. You spend your 5 lives trying to beat it. You get friends to send you more lives to try and beat it. Sadly, you can't beat it. You think to yourself, "Ok. I'm gonna give this one more go. If I don't beat this <bleeping> level (63, anyone? Or 79??) this time, I'm done with this stupid ass game." And so, the Candy Crush gods hear your epithet and grant you access to the next level.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
But, oh, how satisfying is it to pass a level in one try? Or to beat one of your friends' score? Or even better, to pass one of your friends on a level? C'mon... You know you are all smug thinking, "Well, gosh. That level wasn't that hard. Tee hee. Joe Schmo is just a lousy player if he can't beat level 327 by now!"
Anyway.... that's where I've been. I promise to not be so sporadic in the futu... Gotta go. My lives are renewed.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
But, oh, how satisfying is it to pass a level in one try? Or to beat one of your friends' score? Or even better, to pass one of your friends on a level? C'mon... You know you are all smug thinking, "Well, gosh. That level wasn't that hard. Tee hee. Joe Schmo is just a lousy player if he can't beat level 327 by now!"
Anyway.... that's where I've been. I promise to not be so sporadic in the futu... Gotta go. My lives are renewed.
Friday, July 12, 2013
But Wait! There's More!!!!
We all know those annoying infomercials. The ones hawking dumb ass products for 2 easy payments of $9.99. Things like:
There are some stupid ass things out there. Granted, there are some pretty cool things, too. Maddie wants this and can recite the commercial (and thus all the reasons why she just has to have one) verbatim:
And this is actually on my wish list:
But between all the Snuggies and Pillow Pets (yeah, *that* was a great investment), I have run across a few things that are.... shall we say "wackadoodle". These things are beyond my comprehension. They are actual products. Someone pitched these ideas to someone who had more money than sense. Those bizarre-o ideas became tangible products where you, the highly discriminating consumer, can purchase and own one of your very own. Prepare to be stunned...
1. FUNDIES
For around $10 you, too, can ensure a night of romance. Nothing says "togetherness" like two grown ass people crammed crotch-to-crotch in a pair of tighty whiteys.
********************************************************************************
2. CUCHINI
Bra strap showing? Use the Bra Back Clip.
Embarrassing panty line? Wear Spanx or a thong.
Ohmigod! I have a CAMEL TOE and no one told me??!! Well, now there's a product for that. One word: EWWWWW.
******************************************************************************
3. HAIRY LEGGINGS
This is a real thing, y'all. It started, I think, in China as an anti-pervert device for women and girls. Personally, I think it would work wonderfully. Unless, of course, the pervert is in to monkeys. Or the burly lumberjack look. Then you're screwed.
*All "infomercial" products' photos are courtesy of AsSeenOnTV.com
cuchini and hair leggings and fundies
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| Because who wouldn't want a donut on the back of their head?! |
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| For all your |
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| Just because you put an "E" on the end of OLD doesn't actually make it old. |
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| For those who can't keep a real bird alive. |
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| Yeah... Before this was created I just used the vacuum cleaner. |
There are some stupid ass things out there. Granted, there are some pretty cool things, too. Maddie wants this and can recite the commercial (and thus all the reasons why she just has to have one) verbatim:
And this is actually on my wish list:
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| Goodbye, shaving!! |
1. FUNDIES
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| Photo courtesy of Amazon.com |
********************************************************************************
2. CUCHINI
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| Photo courtesy of Amazon.com |
Bra strap showing? Use the Bra Back Clip.
Embarrassing panty line? Wear Spanx or a thong.
Ohmigod! I have a CAMEL TOE and no one told me??!! Well, now there's a product for that. One word: EWWWWW.
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3. HAIRY LEGGINGS
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| Photo courtesy of chinasmack.com |
This is a real thing, y'all. It started, I think, in China as an anti-pervert device for women and girls. Personally, I think it would work wonderfully. Unless, of course, the pervert is in to monkeys. Or the burly lumberjack look. Then you're screwed.
*All "infomercial" products' photos are courtesy of AsSeenOnTV.com
cuchini and hair leggings and fundies
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Does Two On-Air Appearances Make You A Radio Personality? I Say YES!
Okay. So I wrote about my invitation to talk to Jason Walker @ Hits 96 Radio about his non-use of Twitter. Well, little did I know that he actually wanted it to become a thing. Like every week or two. Huh. I must not have made that big of ass out of myself after all. Next thing you know, they will want to hire me for a gazillion dollars and give me free tickets to every concert in a 100 mile radius. (Well, the good concerts, anyway.) Why, I'm practically a permanent personality! (Heavy sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell.) But I'm rambling. Again. So last Tuesday I went in to discuss his new status as Official Twitter-er. I also took the hubs and kid. I let him know that I updated his profile, made his page look pretty and gave him his new stats. He was only up a few followers, but while on air he begged and pleaded with the listeners to follow him to get me off his back. One actually did. Right then! That was pretty cool. Anyway, it didn't take nearly as long this time, but it was still a blast. He even had a name for it: Tabitha Twitter Tuesday. Which I am absolutely positive will totally never catch on. So, for your viewing and listening pleasure, I present my very second visit to the radio station in pictures and an audio clip. Enjoy!
P.S. I know I sound like a total goober, and I'm trying to be okay with that.
P.P.S. The pictures aren't great because Maddie, the budding photographer, screwed with the settings on the camera. You get the idea, though.
P.P.P.S. I didn't realize how chunky I've gotten until I saw my heifer self in all my glory... I'm definitely NOT okay with that!
Tabitha Twitter Tuesday # 1
P.S. I know I sound like a total goober, and I'm trying to be okay with that.
P.P.S. The pictures aren't great because Maddie, the budding photographer, screwed with the settings on the camera. You get the idea, though.
P.P.P.S. I didn't realize how chunky I've gotten until I saw my heifer self in all my glory... I'm definitely NOT okay with that!
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| I'm sure I was saying something funny and charming.... |
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| Not sure what kind of pose I was striking, but it's RADIO, people. Not TV. |
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| One of the only times I can remember where my kid was impressed with me. (Usually it's Daddy.) |
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| Maddie, Me, and the Radio God himself, Jason Walker |
Tabitha Twitter Tuesday # 1
Down On The Farm
Bunch of vegetables. (Even though they are super-fast growing ones.) I know, not quite as captivating as a mooing cow or quacking duck. I haven't posted anything about my garden in a while, so here's some new pictures. Of course, they were taken about 2 weeks ago, so everything is much bigger. Also, I've been able to get several large squash and zucchini (is the plural "squashes" and "zucchinis"? That looks/sounds funny...) and a few cucumbers. I ended up with about 15 hot pepper plants and no bell peppers, so anyone like hot peppers???
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| FIRST PICKED VEGGIE OF THE SEASON. (P.S. It was delicious!) |
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
The Little Bunny Foo Foo Dichotomy
The other day I was just sitting in my recliner, playing on the computer, and minding my own business. When, out of the corner of my eye, I see a fat little mouse/chipmunk/whatever mosey across my kitchen floor. Yep. Mosey. Not scurry, scamper nor run. It took its ever-loving sweet time. Well, since I am vehemently opposed to all creatures in my house, save my Oscar, I immediately hopped up and drove to the store and purchased a mouse-catching hotel. It's way easier and cleaner than a traditional trap.
No fuss, no muss. Just bait it, set it and forget it. The best part? No fingers are harmed in the setting of this trap. Soooo.... Anyway, I buy this thing, go back home, bait it with peanut butter (?? I thought they loved cheese..) and scoot it to a dark corner of the kitchen. It sat there for days with nary a whisper. I started thinking that maybe I imagined the whole episode. Then I had a dream (possibly) that the same cute little mouse (or whatever) was standing on its hind legs walking around the kitchen while wearing a frilly blue apron.
Soooo..... to tie this in to Bunny Foo Foo.... The song goes:
Sorta twisted, now that I think about it. Anyway, if BFF (Bunny Foo Foo, not best friends forever. Just in case you were confused.) were around, he could take care of my little mouse. He could just scoop him right up, bop him on the head, and they both could be on their merry little ways.
But noooooo. Instead of ridding my house of field mice, he and his cohorts think my garden is an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Those little rabbity shits are eating all the effing green beans in my garden. The cute little fluffy Thumpers, who I once thought A-dorable, are my worst freaking nemesis now. If I knew how to shoot a gun, I'd be sitting garden-side, lying in wait like Elmer Freakin' Fudd. Now, I normally don't want anything to do with hunting, or shooting, or critters in general. But these little shits are really starting to piss me off. I've had to replant the damn green beans three times. Three. Times. That is a honkin' lot of hoeing. (And I'm waaaaay past my hoing days. See what I did there? Hoe/Ho? HAHAHA! I crack me up...)
Three times I've replanted the beans. After I tried three different methods to discourage the munching of the vegetables. First, I tried spreading hair around the outside edges. Then I went to spraying this noxious concoction of vinegar and cayenne pepper, which apparently only seasoned them for the thieves. Next, I went with scattering moth balls all throughout the plants. This only resulted in the whole garden smelling like grandma's attic. Finally, with nothing left to do, I had to put up a stinkin' fence. Now I have to hurdle over the damn thing just to weed the beans. (I have to hold my crotch while hurdling the fence because, yeah, it HURTS to be poked in the vag with chicken wire. Just FYI. You're welcome.)
So, to make a long story longer, I finally have beans growing. My garden looks like rednecks hopped up on meth decorated it, but I will have my green beans. The damn things better be worth it...
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| Mice Motel. Free breakfast and HBO. |
Soooo..... to tie this in to Bunny Foo Foo.... The song goes:
"Little Bunny Foo Foo walking through the forest, scooping up field mice and boppin' 'em on the head..."
Sorta twisted, now that I think about it. Anyway, if BFF (Bunny Foo Foo, not best friends forever. Just in case you were confused.) were around, he could take care of my little mouse. He could just scoop him right up, bop him on the head, and they both could be on their merry little ways.
But noooooo. Instead of ridding my house of field mice, he and his cohorts think my garden is an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Those little rabbity shits are eating all the effing green beans in my garden. The cute little fluffy Thumpers, who I once thought A-dorable, are my worst freaking nemesis now. If I knew how to shoot a gun, I'd be sitting garden-side, lying in wait like Elmer Freakin' Fudd. Now, I normally don't want anything to do with hunting, or shooting, or critters in general. But these little shits are really starting to piss me off. I've had to replant the damn green beans three times. Three. Times. That is a honkin' lot of hoeing. (And I'm waaaaay past my hoing days. See what I did there? Hoe/Ho? HAHAHA! I crack me up...)
Three times I've replanted the beans. After I tried three different methods to discourage the munching of the vegetables. First, I tried spreading hair around the outside edges. Then I went to spraying this noxious concoction of vinegar and cayenne pepper, which apparently only seasoned them for the thieves. Next, I went with scattering moth balls all throughout the plants. This only resulted in the whole garden smelling like grandma's attic. Finally, with nothing left to do, I had to put up a stinkin' fence. Now I have to hurdle over the damn thing just to weed the beans. (I have to hold my crotch while hurdling the fence because, yeah, it HURTS to be poked in the vag with chicken wire. Just FYI. You're welcome.)
So, to make a long story longer, I finally have beans growing. My garden looks like rednecks hopped up on meth decorated it, but I will have my green beans. The damn things better be worth it...
I Was On Safari... Or Abducted By Aliens... Or Maybe I Was Just Lazy
It's been a while since I've posted, almost two whole weeks. I know, I know. I'm a slacker. But I have a really good excu... Nope. Nevermind. I got nothing. I was on "vacation" all last week and didn't even get online. I had high hopes for vacation week, however Mother Nature was in league with the forces of darkness so it rained. Every day. All day. I didn't get any work done in the garden so I'm gonna have a ton to do when it dries out some. I didn't get any "spring" cleaning done, either. That was just because I was super lazy. I DID, however, watch a LOT of television and play games on the computer. I'm just proud no one at my house went to the hospital all week. Or jail. This is the first time all three of us have been together for a week straight in over a year. And we were *together*. In each other's business and up each other's butts for a WEEK straight! That's a lot of hours... Anyway, I've decided all that down time is not so good for me. If my life were a color these days it would be brown. I've just been kinda blech lately. I don't have any kind of motivation to do much of anything.
The point to this long, drawn out ramble is: This is not a "real" post. I have about 5 new ones in the works that will be coming this week. Some with pictures and even audio. (Gasp! I know, right?) So, stay tuned for (hopefully) better content.....
The point to this long, drawn out ramble is: This is not a "real" post. I have about 5 new ones in the works that will be coming this week. Some with pictures and even audio. (Gasp! I know, right?) So, stay tuned for (hopefully) better content.....
Thursday, June 27, 2013
TV Killed The Radio Star? HA! Hardly.
Yesterday I visited the local radio station. All morning I was so nervous. I practically had heart palpitations driving there and I got there without really remembering the drive. I was prepared, though. I, being me, had done research. Research. For a radio spot about Twitter. Twitter, for Pete's sake. Where was I? Oh, yeah, research. I had stats, interesting people that had Twitter accounts, and other details that were of really no consequence whatsoever. So, armed with my notebook and a facade of confidence, I entered through the gates. Actually it was just a door, but it was a big deal, yo.
The nice receptionist and I talked for a few minutes while Jason was making his way down to the lobby. I can't remember her name, but we spoke of gardening and the weather. She put me at ease when it was all I could do not to throw up and run screaming out the door. (*Side note: I need to get her name and send her a thank you card*) My heart was hammering in my ears. Now that I think about it, it sounded vaguely like the Jaws theme, except faster. So, during our lively discussion about the lack of rain, the inside door opened.
There stood a radio god. :) He wasn't all glowy or wearing a halo or anything, but still a god nonetheless. We smiled, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. I could all be see the energy pumping off of him. I think he mentioned one time on-air that he was ADHD. Or maybe OCD. Whatever. Anyway, to get to the studio I had to go through the building with the admin offices and stuff to a smaller building in the back. I could only think, "Damn! He walks really frickin' fast!". It dawned on me later that he probably has to walk fast because there is nothing worse than dead air and a song only lasts so long. But, I digress. After power walking through the admin building we entered the studio building. It houses 4 (I think) separate stations. I barely got a glimpse at the downstairs before we were hoofing it up a narrow stairwell to the top floor. Impressions from up there are: a bathroom, a small kitchen and a couple of heavy wooden doors with small square viewing windows. As I approached the hallowed door, my breath caught in my chest. Childhood games of playing "DJ" with a boom box/tape deck flashed in my mind. I was about to go where no me has gone before. He entered ahead of me and held the door. With a grand sweeping gesture, he bid me to enter. (Okay, that part was made up. Probably.) Garnering all my nerve I stepped through the doorway and into...
Hmmm.... A room about as big as a cubicle. It was waaaaay smaller than I expected. I mean, I was thinking it would be as big as a gymnasium. I figured it would have to be that big to hold all that personality. :) The desk was "L" shaped and each side had a big microphone. There were about 60 computer monitors (slight exaggeration) and that button board thingy with all the slidey buttons (yep, reeeeeeeal technical, aren't I?). The walls were covered in autographed pictures of musicians, most of which I am not hipster enough to recognize. Overall, the room had sort of a controlled chaos kind of feel.
It was less than a minute before he had to go on-air and change songs. I thought he walked fast. His hands were flying over the button board thingy (I *really* need to find out what that thing is called). While he did his thing I got out my "research". I had rehearsed my spiel so I could lay it all out clearly and concisely. The moment I had to sidle up to that mic, every thought in my head flew right out the one tiny window. Oh, no. My worst fears are coming true. My mouth dried up. My palms started to sweat. I knew this would happen. My only coherent thought was, "Ohmygod". How was I going to be my <ahem> funny and charming self if all I could do was stutter and groan?? My next thought was, "S H I T." Not only am I about to embarrass the bejeezus out of myself in front of this dude, I'm gonna be mortified live. On-air. For the whole city to hear.
What? What's that? Ohhhhhhh... We don't do it live. So you're gonna record and edit it into segments and then play it? Awesome. I may end up making an ass of myself, but at least it won't be for a gazillion people to hear. (Bad enough, yes. But oh so much better than the alternative.)
That was the point where he just talked to me. Like a normal conversation. My previously scattered thoughts began to find their way home. I was able to form complete sentences. And my proudest moment? I said something that made him laugh. Like, gut busting laugh. "See?" I told myself in my head, "I can be funny. Sometimes. Maybe. Sort of." Anyway, he put me at ease and I was able to accomplish (most) of my goals.
For over an hour we chatted and laughed. I "suggested" that he not log on to Facebook without first logging on to Twitter. Also, that he link the accounts. That way, when he tweets, it will automatically post as a status update on Facebook. As our time was winding down, he did something A-mazing. He gave me his Twitter info so I could monitor his "progression" and also find people he should be following. People! Do you understand what I'm saying?? He. Gave. Me. His. Info. Me! A perfect stranger. He had to know going in to this little 'interview' that I was kooky. I mean, who else researches and presents reasons to be on Twitter?! No one, that's who. Of course, it's probably not that big a deal to him because he often lets Brad take over his Facebook.
We wrapped up with promises (on his part) to tweet and warnings (on my part) that I will be watching.
On an odd side note: He played 2 of the 3 segments on-air while I was in the studio. The other one, however, came on while I was on my way home. Do you know how odd it is to hear yourself on the radio? Lemme tell ya. Weird. Especially since I sound like a total dork!
And, because this experience has been the coolest, funniest, most bizarre thing that will (probably) ever happen to me, here is the audio from 2 of the segments.
Segment 1
Segment 2
DISCLAIMER:
This post was not sponsored by either Twitter or Hits 96 (@Hits96Radio). But, if either of them want to pay me for these fabulous words and general pimping, I accept all forms of payments. Seriously, though, a great big huge THANK YOU to Jason Walker (@jasonwalker965) for an amazing experience. You guys should follow him <now that he is actually tweeting>. He is a big ball of awesomeness, hilarity and bad assery.
The nice receptionist and I talked for a few minutes while Jason was making his way down to the lobby. I can't remember her name, but we spoke of gardening and the weather. She put me at ease when it was all I could do not to throw up and run screaming out the door. (*Side note: I need to get her name and send her a thank you card*) My heart was hammering in my ears. Now that I think about it, it sounded vaguely like the Jaws theme, except faster. So, during our lively discussion about the lack of rain, the inside door opened.
There stood a radio god. :) He wasn't all glowy or wearing a halo or anything, but still a god nonetheless. We smiled, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. I could all be see the energy pumping off of him. I think he mentioned one time on-air that he was ADHD. Or maybe OCD. Whatever. Anyway, to get to the studio I had to go through the building with the admin offices and stuff to a smaller building in the back. I could only think, "Damn! He walks really frickin' fast!". It dawned on me later that he probably has to walk fast because there is nothing worse than dead air and a song only lasts so long. But, I digress. After power walking through the admin building we entered the studio building. It houses 4 (I think) separate stations. I barely got a glimpse at the downstairs before we were hoofing it up a narrow stairwell to the top floor. Impressions from up there are: a bathroom, a small kitchen and a couple of heavy wooden doors with small square viewing windows. As I approached the hallowed door, my breath caught in my chest. Childhood games of playing "DJ" with a boom box/tape deck flashed in my mind. I was about to go where no me has gone before. He entered ahead of me and held the door. With a grand sweeping gesture, he bid me to enter. (Okay, that part was made up. Probably.) Garnering all my nerve I stepped through the doorway and into...
Hmmm.... A room about as big as a cubicle. It was waaaaay smaller than I expected. I mean, I was thinking it would be as big as a gymnasium. I figured it would have to be that big to hold all that personality. :) The desk was "L" shaped and each side had a big microphone. There were about 60 computer monitors (slight exaggeration) and that button board thingy with all the slidey buttons (yep, reeeeeeeal technical, aren't I?). The walls were covered in autographed pictures of musicians, most of which I am not hipster enough to recognize. Overall, the room had sort of a controlled chaos kind of feel.
It was less than a minute before he had to go on-air and change songs. I thought he walked fast. His hands were flying over the button board thingy (I *really* need to find out what that thing is called). While he did his thing I got out my "research". I had rehearsed my spiel so I could lay it all out clearly and concisely. The moment I had to sidle up to that mic, every thought in my head flew right out the one tiny window. Oh, no. My worst fears are coming true. My mouth dried up. My palms started to sweat. I knew this would happen. My only coherent thought was, "Ohmygod". How was I going to be my <ahem> funny and charming self if all I could do was stutter and groan?? My next thought was, "S H I T." Not only am I about to embarrass the bejeezus out of myself in front of this dude, I'm gonna be mortified live. On-air. For the whole city to hear.
What? What's that? Ohhhhhhh... We don't do it live. So you're gonna record and edit it into segments and then play it? Awesome. I may end up making an ass of myself, but at least it won't be for a gazillion people to hear. (Bad enough, yes. But oh so much better than the alternative.)
That was the point where he just talked to me. Like a normal conversation. My previously scattered thoughts began to find their way home. I was able to form complete sentences. And my proudest moment? I said something that made him laugh. Like, gut busting laugh. "See?" I told myself in my head, "I can be funny. Sometimes. Maybe. Sort of." Anyway, he put me at ease and I was able to accomplish (most) of my goals.
For over an hour we chatted and laughed. I "suggested" that he not log on to Facebook without first logging on to Twitter. Also, that he link the accounts. That way, when he tweets, it will automatically post as a status update on Facebook. As our time was winding down, he did something A-mazing. He gave me his Twitter info so I could monitor his "progression" and also find people he should be following. People! Do you understand what I'm saying?? He. Gave. Me. His. Info. Me! A perfect stranger. He had to know going in to this little 'interview' that I was kooky. I mean, who else researches and presents reasons to be on Twitter?! No one, that's who. Of course, it's probably not that big a deal to him because he often lets Brad take over his Facebook.
We wrapped up with promises (on his part) to tweet and warnings (on my part) that I will be watching.
On an odd side note: He played 2 of the 3 segments on-air while I was in the studio. The other one, however, came on while I was on my way home. Do you know how odd it is to hear yourself on the radio? Lemme tell ya. Weird. Especially since I sound like a total dork!
And, because this experience has been the coolest, funniest, most bizarre thing that will (probably) ever happen to me, here is the audio from 2 of the segments.
Segment 1
Segment 2
DISCLAIMER:
This post was not sponsored by either Twitter or Hits 96 (@Hits96Radio). But, if either of them want to pay me for these fabulous words and general pimping, I accept all forms of payments. Seriously, though, a great big huge THANK YOU to Jason Walker (@jasonwalker965) for an amazing experience. You guys should follow him <now that he is actually tweeting>. He is a big ball of awesomeness, hilarity and bad assery.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD
A couple of weeks ago I called in to the local radio station and inquired of (one of) my fave DJ(s) as to why he didn’t use Twitter. We bantered back and forth of the benefits versus the time/energy/desire. He said he had a Twitter account but just never used it. He also quipped that I could be his Twitter Social Media Director. Wellll….. no pay, no real responsibilities? Sign. Me.
Taking my duties and my new title very seriously, I sent him a Facebook message the very next day telling him the easiest way to get going is tweet something inane first thing in the morning. I use Twitter a lot, but still, most mornings I tweet the name of the song that was playing in my head when I woke up. I suggested he do that with #WokeUpSinging.
Fast forward to this past Monday. It dawned on me that I hadn’t heard a *peep* (Get it? Twitter? A bird? Peep? HA! I crack myself up.) from him on his Twitter account. I then sent him another message via Facebook.
“2 weeks on the job as your Twitter Social Director and I couldn’t get not *1* stinkin’ tweet outta you. I’m so fired. Now what am I gonna do with all those business cards I had printed??”
A few minutes later, his reply:
“I am a Twitter failure. You must come to the studio to discuss our Jason Tweets, Inc. corporate structure.”
I then said:
“Ha! 12:30 good for you?” (**I was being totally sarcastic. Just in case you didn’t catch it.**)
Literally less than a minute later…
“Today is not good, but any other day this week is fine.”
(**Me, starting to hyperventilate**):
“Dude! Are you freakin’ serious?! I can’t be on the radio! I’m soooo not cool enough for that!”
A minute later he had this to say:
“I have the trademark on not being cool. Come here.”
(**Me, silently running through all the disastrous scenarios that could occur**):
“Ummmm….okay(?). Wednesday okay? And are you seriously serious?”
Then the word that had me quaking in my strappy sandals:
“yes”
So, ladies and gentlemen, (or Val, since I think you are the only one who reads this crap I churn out), today I will be going to the radio station after work to probably more than likely hopefully (please God) not make a huge redneck-y ass out of myself.
Wish me luck! I may be able to post the audio on here tomorrow. Providing I don’t embarrass myself too much. Even if I can't do the audio you can bet your sweet bupkis that I will have a post documenting my foray.
Also, here’s the slightly bad ass business card I made.
It's 5 A.M. ..... I Repeat.... IT'S-5-FREAKING-A.M. (and I'm awake)
It’s 5:22 a.m. As in, 5 o’clock in. the. freaking. morning. I’ve been to bed 3 times, and 3 times I’ve gotten back up because my mother effing brain will not shut the hell up. It could have something to do with my first radio appearance later today. Or maybe the Sudafed I had to break down and take at 9:00 last night. So between the nerves and the meth, I’m wide a-frickin’-wake. And have been all night long. I should have put that time to good use. The dishes need washing, the bathroom could use a cleaning, and the dog needs a bath. Did I do any of those semi-productive things? Hell, no, thankyouverymuch. What did I do, you ask? Well, I watched some of my Big Bang Theory episodes. Oh, and I’m writing this blog post. Hmmm…. What else? Ummmm…I ate a spoonful of peanut butter? FYI, that stuff gives you wicked heartburn. So, great. In addition to being a neurotic insomniac, I also get to have acid indigestion. Isn't life grand? (*I know, I know. Pity party of one, right this way please.*)
Wanna know some of the things that have been shooting my overactive cerebellum in the last several hours? Okey dokey. Just remember: You asked for it.
-I wonder if Mom found out how much a used Kindle is for me
-How do you make those dots and that squiggle line over letters? Like in "uber", for example.
-The new song “Blurred Lines” is this year’s “Call Me Maybe”. I can’t get away from it. And I never realized how some of it sounds like Fat Albert. (*HeyHeyHey*)
-How many calories can you burn just by your mind racing?
-Hmmm… I wonder if my lives on Candy Crush have regenerated yet? (They had, but now they are gone again. This game is like crack.)
-I totally hope I don’t make a colossal ass out of myself on the radio tomorrow. Well, today.
-The new catch phrase I came up with the other day hasn’t caught on. (*BTW, it’s: I don’t give 2 dead cats... For example: I don’t give 2 dead cats that my hair is nappy.)
-I’m super excited that the season premier of Big Brother comes on tonight. Although, since I am apparently not sleeping at all I will probably be in a coma when it comes on.
-How much is Botox?
-Gotta remember to check the web tomorrow to see what classes to enroll in for the fall. (*I’m going back to school to study Criminology. So I can poke at dead people.*)
-Wonder if I can find a ThighMaster on Craigslist? Well, on second thought, a used ThighMaster is kinda gross.
-Wonder how much a *new* ThighMaster costs?
-Jeez it’s crowded in here. (*All the voices say as one*)
Monday, June 17, 2013
Warm Bodies Need A Safe Haven, Not A Broken City, To Call Mama
So last weekend, while the hubs was on a shoot in West Virgina, I had a movie marathon. Let me just say first that REDBOX IS AWESOME. Where else can you find 2 hours of -maybe- entertainment for just $1? One. Dollar. Nowhere, that's where. Anyway... So I go to Redbox and peruse the selection. Lo and behold, all of the new releases are in! Yay me! My taste in films runs the gamut. I don't really have a "type"... well, unless it's horror. Or action. I had heard Warm Bodies was good so I got it. I also got the Nicholas Sparks Safe Haven (even though in most of his movies someone dies), Broken City with hunkalicious Marky Mark, and the "scary" movie Mama. Here is my synopsis and critique of the above.
Warm Bodies: 4 out of 5 brains
Recap: This was not a typical zombie flick. The story follows "R" (the dead don't remember their names) and his pack of airport dwelling flesh-eaters. Apparently if you eat someone's brain, you get their memories. There is a city of survivors and a gang of them go out scavenging for supplies. Pack of zombies descend upon human scavengers. Chaos ensues. "R" sees the girl and has some sort of epiphany. He keeps her safe and returns her to the city. Along the way he gets a little more human and falls in love with her. Other stuff happens. Zombies die. (Can the dead die? We'll save that existential dilemma for another time.) Humans die. Father/daughter relationships grow. Humans and zombies unite to fight a common enemy. Happy times for all. The End.
Pros: I love zombies. I mean really love them.
Cons: John Malkovich, bony zombies that look like the ones from I Am Legend, hoarder zombies.
*********************************************************************************
Safe Haven: 3 out of 5 Nicholas Sparks books
Recap: Miss Ex-Ryan Seacrest leaves her abusive man. He's a cop. Full stage-5 clinging ensues. He uses all of his cop powers to find her so he can drag her back home. She hops a bus and decides to stay in this piss ant tiny beach town. Enter the sexy and sad widower. She makes nice with his kids then worms in to his life. Sexual tension, secrets and stalking. She gets to be a heroine, "find" herself and fall in love.
Pros: Two words. Josh Duhamel. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmmm! He'll never win an Oscar, but he's so pretty he really doesn't have to "act". ;)
Cons: It's a pretty typical story. It reminded me a lot of Sleeping With The Enemy except she didn't fake her own death. It's worth watching, especially if you are reallllllly into chick flicks. Even if you're not, it's worth seeing a shirtless Josh Duhamel.
********************************************************************************
Broken City: 2 out of 5 Criminals
Recap: Marky Mark is a cop who has to resign due to a sketchy shoot-out that leaves a thug dead. Now he's a PI. Sketchy mayor hires him to get proof of spousal infidelity. Russel Crowe is the shady mayor. In my opinion, he hasn't done anything really good since Gladiator. Anyway, two hours of backdoor double crossing and trying to find out who is actually the bad guy (really they are all kinda douchey) later, it goes off.
Pros: Marky Mark Wahlberg. 'Nuff said.
Cons: It's slow. And dark. And predictable. It tries to be a John Grisham, but just isn't.
*******************************************************************************
Mama: 4 out of 5 Creeptacular Kids
Recap: Two young girls (8 and 2 I think) are left in a decrepit cabin deep in the woods. Five years later they are found and returned to their uncle and his rocker girlfriend. The kids are basically rabid, feral cat-like creatures who grunt and shriek instead of talk.(The older one is able to adjust quicker because she remembers her old life.) No one can believe they survived. Turns out this crazy lady escaped from the local loony bin a hundred years ago and her whacked-out ghost has been watching over the girls. Well, when the girls go live with the uncle, Mama isn't happy. And you know what they say.... "When Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy". Least of all the rocker chick who never wanted kids to begin with. Weird shit happens and that youngest kid? CREEEEEE-PY! She pops up all ninja-like, scampers like a jacked up dog, and giggles at the walls. It's apparent something otherworldly is going on. They just have to figure out how to get rid of a whack-a-doodle ghost with murderous tendencies.
Pros: I love, Love, LOVE being creeped out. That littlest kid? Nightmares, I tell ya. Also, there is a surprise twist at the end.
Cons: Some slow moving in the beginning. Plus, not nearly enough people getting slaughtered.
*******************************************************************************
So, there ya have it. I may or may not review any other movies I've seen. Depends on if I'm coming up blank for a post. I mean.... Depends on... ahhh, whatever. I can't think of a legitimate reason.
Warm Bodies: 4 out of 5 brains
Recap: This was not a typical zombie flick. The story follows "R" (the dead don't remember their names) and his pack of airport dwelling flesh-eaters. Apparently if you eat someone's brain, you get their memories. There is a city of survivors and a gang of them go out scavenging for supplies. Pack of zombies descend upon human scavengers. Chaos ensues. "R" sees the girl and has some sort of epiphany. He keeps her safe and returns her to the city. Along the way he gets a little more human and falls in love with her. Other stuff happens. Zombies die. (Can the dead die? We'll save that existential dilemma for another time.) Humans die. Father/daughter relationships grow. Humans and zombies unite to fight a common enemy. Happy times for all. The End.
Pros: I love zombies. I mean really love them.
Cons: John Malkovich, bony zombies that look like the ones from I Am Legend, hoarder zombies.
*********************************************************************************
Safe Haven: 3 out of 5 Nicholas Sparks books
Recap: Miss Ex-Ryan Seacrest leaves her abusive man. He's a cop. Full stage-5 clinging ensues. He uses all of his cop powers to find her so he can drag her back home. She hops a bus and decides to stay in this piss ant tiny beach town. Enter the sexy and sad widower. She makes nice with his kids then worms in to his life. Sexual tension, secrets and stalking. She gets to be a heroine, "find" herself and fall in love.
Pros: Two words. Josh Duhamel. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmmm! He'll never win an Oscar, but he's so pretty he really doesn't have to "act". ;)
Cons: It's a pretty typical story. It reminded me a lot of Sleeping With The Enemy except she didn't fake her own death. It's worth watching, especially if you are reallllllly into chick flicks. Even if you're not, it's worth seeing a shirtless Josh Duhamel.
********************************************************************************
Broken City: 2 out of 5 Criminals
Recap: Marky Mark is a cop who has to resign due to a sketchy shoot-out that leaves a thug dead. Now he's a PI. Sketchy mayor hires him to get proof of spousal infidelity. Russel Crowe is the shady mayor. In my opinion, he hasn't done anything really good since Gladiator. Anyway, two hours of backdoor double crossing and trying to find out who is actually the bad guy (really they are all kinda douchey) later, it goes off.
Pros: Marky Mark Wahlberg. 'Nuff said.
Cons: It's slow. And dark. And predictable. It tries to be a John Grisham, but just isn't.
*******************************************************************************
Mama: 4 out of 5 Creeptacular Kids
Recap: Two young girls (8 and 2 I think) are left in a decrepit cabin deep in the woods. Five years later they are found and returned to their uncle and his rocker girlfriend. The kids are basically rabid, feral cat-like creatures who grunt and shriek instead of talk.(The older one is able to adjust quicker because she remembers her old life.) No one can believe they survived. Turns out this crazy lady escaped from the local loony bin a hundred years ago and her whacked-out ghost has been watching over the girls. Well, when the girls go live with the uncle, Mama isn't happy. And you know what they say.... "When Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy". Least of all the rocker chick who never wanted kids to begin with. Weird shit happens and that youngest kid? CREEEEEE-PY! She pops up all ninja-like, scampers like a jacked up dog, and giggles at the walls. It's apparent something otherworldly is going on. They just have to figure out how to get rid of a whack-a-doodle ghost with murderous tendencies.
Pros: I love, Love, LOVE being creeped out. That littlest kid? Nightmares, I tell ya. Also, there is a surprise twist at the end.
Cons: Some slow moving in the beginning. Plus, not nearly enough people getting slaughtered.
*******************************************************************************
So, there ya have it. I may or may not review any other movies I've seen. Depends on if I'm coming up blank for a post. I mean.... Depends on... ahhh, whatever. I can't think of a legitimate reason.
Friday, June 14, 2013
In Honor Of Flag Day, I Bring You These...
If I had a house flag, it would be awesome. Here are some examples of what may be flying high at the ole homestead.
What proud freak flag would you fly at your house?
 |
| Unicorns at *my* house shit sunshine and rainbows |
 |
| Zombie Apocalypse Ready |
 |
| Yeah, bitches. I'm Irish. Sort of. |
What proud freak flag would you fly at your house?
Thursday, June 13, 2013
One Of Those Days....
Ever have "one of those days" where you wake up pissy for no apparent reason? And then you get out of bed and it all goes downhill from there? Yeah. Today is like that. I've been having headaches. Not just annoying-grab-some-Excedrin headaches but the "bitch-I-will-stab-you-in-the-eye-and-then-laugh-about-it" kind. So these headaches have been an everyday occurrence for about a week and a half. Every. Frickin'. Day.Yesterday was no exception, so after crawling through the day at work I finally got home. I laid in the recliner for about an hour until I gave up and went to bed. I actually took a nap, y'all. I don't know how long it's been since I took an honest to God full fledged nap. Years, probably. But nap I did. For about an hour. When I woke up, the troll was still thumping in my brain but not as loudly. I managed to fix dinner (it was just hot dogs, so no *real* cooking involved) and spend a little time with the hubs and the kid. At 10:00 I declared myself ready for bed. This in itself is an aberration. I usually don't retire until around midnight because I know I only sleep for a couple of hours before I pop awake. But last night I went to bed at 10:30 and slept like the dead until 7:00 this morning. Here's the thing: I AM STILL TIRED. What. The. Hell?! I had the most (consecutive) sleep I've had in, oh, I don't know, about 10 years and I can barely function today. I've had my morning coke (the drinking kind, not the sniffing kind) AND an energy shot. I still feel like I could lay my head down on my table and drift off to dreamland. Well, if I shove my keyboard outta my way, but still. What is wrong with me???? Any suggestions on how NOT to be.... I dunno.... like this?
Help?
Or like this?
 |
| Me. Without the green skin and craving for brains. |
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Fever Dreams
So, last week was pretty crappy at my house. I had the plague so I felt like squished dog poo for several days. I may have a brain tumor because I'm still having terrible, horrible, no good, very bad headaches. But, I digress. The only upside to having an awful illness is the extremely colorful dreams I have while burning up with a thousand degree fever. Here are a few of my nocturnal escapades, as I remember them.
My grandmother has a dog, Kali. I haven't been to see her (my grandmother, not Kali. Well both, actually.) in a couple of months so this kinda came out of nowhere. So I dreamed (dreamt?) that I went to Grandmother's house. No Kali. When I asked where the dog was, G'mother's reply was, "Oh. Her lease was up." Hmmm... there may or may not be a potential business in there somewhere. Dog rentals: the new million dollar idea? Maybe. Anyway, she had another dog that looked just like Kali named Fred. And also a puppy. Who am I to argue with my feverish subconscious? No one, that's who.
****************************************************************************
Let me set the scene for you. It is a beautiful day. I mean one of those perfect days. Warm sunshine dappling the ground through trees full of green leaves gently swaying in the breeze. The birds are chirping a Disney tune. The air smells of springtime. A. Perfect. Day. I'm strolling along a tree-lined path. I don't feel rushed or even have a particular destination in mind. I'm just ambling along, stopping to chat with the wildlife and soak up the sunshine. From behind me on my right I hear the faintest noise. Wait. That noise doesn't belong here. Noise belongs out in the world, not here in the perfect corner of my mind. What IS that? Well, my question is soon answered as a guy (I think), so completely wrapped in bubble wrap you can't even see his eyes, comes barreling by. In a red wagon. He was laying in the wagon. While wrapped head to to in bubble wrap. What's even stranger is that after he passed by, Pip from Enchanted popped his head up from behind a mossy log, cocked his head, looked straight at me and said, "Wow. THAT was weird." Yes, Pip. Yes it was.
The moral of these stories? Fever dreams are super entertaining, but so not worth the brain damage.
My grandmother has a dog, Kali. I haven't been to see her (my grandmother, not Kali. Well both, actually.) in a couple of months so this kinda came out of nowhere. So I dreamed (dreamt?) that I went to Grandmother's house. No Kali. When I asked where the dog was, G'mother's reply was, "Oh. Her lease was up." Hmmm... there may or may not be a potential business in there somewhere. Dog rentals: the new million dollar idea? Maybe. Anyway, she had another dog that looked just like Kali named Fred. And also a puppy. Who am I to argue with my feverish subconscious? No one, that's who.
****************************************************************************
Let me set the scene for you. It is a beautiful day. I mean one of those perfect days. Warm sunshine dappling the ground through trees full of green leaves gently swaying in the breeze. The birds are chirping a Disney tune. The air smells of springtime. A. Perfect. Day. I'm strolling along a tree-lined path. I don't feel rushed or even have a particular destination in mind. I'm just ambling along, stopping to chat with the wildlife and soak up the sunshine. From behind me on my right I hear the faintest noise. Wait. That noise doesn't belong here. Noise belongs out in the world, not here in the perfect corner of my mind. What IS that? Well, my question is soon answered as a guy (I think), so completely wrapped in bubble wrap you can't even see his eyes, comes barreling by. In a red wagon. He was laying in the wagon. While wrapped head to to in bubble wrap. What's even stranger is that after he passed by, Pip from Enchanted popped his head up from behind a mossy log, cocked his head, looked straight at me and said, "Wow. THAT was weird." Yes, Pip. Yes it was.
The moral of these stories? Fever dreams are super entertaining, but so not worth the brain damage.
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