Monday, February 28, 2005

Who needs the movies?

Last weekend we went to Houston to pick up some of the stuff at my apartment. We spent Friday night at the apartment and Saturday took a few large items that we won't need anymore now that we live in the same house to Waco to my sister's for a garage sale. We spent Saturday night in Waco at my in-laws house and came home Sunday.

The bed at the apartment is a queen bed. For normal people this would be just fine. However, I never claimed to be normal. We have a king bed at home, and our little mutt sleeps with us. We're also 5'11" and 6'6". So, when we sleep on the queen bed I usually end up with about 4 inches of bed space on which to sleep by morning, because little mutt tends to take up much more room than a 15 pound mutt should, and mister-long-legs likes to sleep with his knees bent. Therefore, I did not sleep well Friday night. I almost fell off the bed on several occassions.

As I said, Saturday night we slept at his folks house. When we are in Waco Casey, our mutt, spends the night at my sister's house because his parents have cats that aren't used to dogs. So, even though we had a queen bed there I didn't have the dog. We had a heck of a lot more room. However, their bed used to be a cement block. I'm sure of it. If you sleep on your stomach (which I can't do well these days anyway) your boobs squish and they hurt by morning. Sleeping on your side makes your arm fall asleep, and sleeping on your back feels like you are standing at attention. So, I didn't sleep well then, either.

Which brings me to the subject of this post. I slept VERY well in my own bed last night. So well, in fact, that I had a dream. When I dream, it isn't the usual quick, boring dream about being naked in class or losing my teeth. Oh, no. My dreams are twisted, demented, and would give Stephen King a run for his money.

Last night I had a dream that I was a spy for the United States in Cuba. I dreamed that a family with 8 kids let me stay with them while I was there, but they only had a bed the size of a crib mattress for me to sleep on. So, I opted to sleep on the floor, which was nasty and dirty and had rat feces. I dreamed that my sister came down as my spy partner and we had to be careful because every square inch of inside of buildings were bugged, so we had to sneak outside to talk about the spy stuff. And there was a gay couple who were neighbors that were in on the whole thing and would give me insider information. Oh, I could give you details...what the houses looked like and the people. And weird things happen in my dream, like I was outside by a pool (yea, I'm sure lots of peopole have nice pools in Cuba) talking to my sister about the information and two girls were swimming and one started drowning and I had to save her but couldn't. Things got a LOT weirder, too, but I'm afraid if I tell you you'll send men in white suits with a straight jacket to come and take me away. And I'm even more afraid to tell you I have these kinds of dreams ALL THE TIME.

Who needs to spend $8 for a movie when I get this entertainment while sleeping?

Question: Tell about a weird or impressive dream you've had.

Friday, February 25, 2005

100 things about Carol.

I caved. I'm doing it! It looked like fun. What the hell. In fact, why don't you do it too??

1. I have been married 12 years.
2. I got married when I was 20.
3. My husband was 24 when we married.
4. We had been trying to get pregnant for over 4 years before I had surgery for endometriosis.
5. One month after the surgery Mr. Sperm met Ms. Egg.
6. I am 5' 11"
7. My husband is 6'6"
8. I love dogs
9. My husband tried to get me a rabbit instead of a dog when we got married thinking it would suffice.
10. We had a dog a month later.
11. I can be obsessive about organization.
12. I am hoping I can let it go when I have the baby.
13. I have one sister.
14. My sister is my best friend.
15. My sister and I are nothing alike.
16. I am close to my niece.
17. My parents sold their house and bought a Motorhome and travel full time.
18. I think my parents are crazy.
19. I was born and lived in Erie, Pennsylvania until I was 10.
20. I moved to Texas when I was 10.
21. I hated Texas at first, but I love it now.
22. I love Little House on the Prairie.
23. I have light brown curly hair.
24. I straightened my hair once and my sister loved it, but I didn't.
25. I got braces at 29 and got them off at 31.
26. I have been to most states in the US including Hawaii twice, and also Puerto Rico, Mexico, Canada and Germany. And that's it.
27. I would like to travel more for liesure someday.
28. The first time I was on an airplane was my honeymoon.
29. I love the Muppets.
30. My favorite Muppet is Beaker because I relate to him.
31. I love to scrapbook.
32. I have enough pictures in my boxes that I will never get them all in scrapbooks.
33. I owned a pet sitting business.
34. I was co-owner of a candle and soap making corporation.
35. My favorite dessert is home made chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting.
36. My birthday is December 14th.
37. I have a Bachelors of Science in Chemistry.
38. I often wonder why the hell I picked Chemistry.
39. My sister and my mom's birthdays are 4 days before and after mine.
40. I have an aversion to stickers and used little pieces of paper, they gross me out.
41. The first time I was really drunk was when I was 29.
42. My sister, niece, and I all share the same middle name "Joy".
43. My first Disneyland/world experience was when I was 30.
44. I hate ironing.
45. I like to cook when I have time to do it.
46. I would like to get my bellybutton pierced when it is flat again.
47. My husband doesn't want me to, so I probably won't.
48. I like to do crafty things.
49. I used to play the clarinet and piano.
50. I wish I kept the clarinet and piano up.
51. I played clarinet in an ensemble that played for George Bush Sr when he was president.
52. I sing in the choir at church.
53. I am an alto in the choir.
54. I broke my foot when I was 12 because my sister was trying to outrun me on the bicycle.
55. I don't like Sushi.
56. I shave my legs once a month in the winter because the hairs are fine and blonde.
57. I once got stuck in a dog door.
58. I once left my window open and a skunk got in my bedroom.
59. My first job was a car hop at a 50's style restaurant.
60. I worked at two florists through high school and early college.
61. My house got struck by lightning when I was 16.
62. I can wiggle my ears.
63. I like to horseback ride.
64. I took English riding lessons for a year.
65. I started to learn how to jump fences on a horse.
66. I like Paul Simon and Simon and Garfunkel.
67. I have lived in 6 different cities in Texas.
68. I am taller than both of my parents.
69. I hate taking pills.
70. I am afraid of birds.
71. I am very ticklish on my feet and sides.
72. My parents don't go to church.
73. I didn't go to church until I was 18.
74. I only started going to church because I thought a boy was cute and he wanted me to go with him.
75. I ended up marrying that boy.
76. Now I go to church because I want to.
77. I like to swim.
78. I played outdoors most of the time when I was a kid.
79. I don't like coffee.
80. I don't even like anything Mocha, kahlua, or coffee flavored desserts.
81. Both my parents and my husbands parents have been married 40 years each.
82. I like antiques.
83. My living room has a lot of antiques and I think it looks like an 80 year old woman's living room.
84. I knew how to squaredance (the real thing with the poofy skirts and everything) when I was younger.
85. I am embarrassed that I squaredanced when I was younger.
86. I just bought a 2001 Honda CRV that I like very much.
87. I like to walk around barefoot.
88. My favorite sport to play is volleyball.
89. I like to play competitive sports.
90. My husband was a social worker for the mentally ill and mentally retarded for 10 years.
91. I like to watch Football if a team I like is playing.
92. I am a fan of the Houston Texans.
93. I think their quarterback is cute.
94. I want to go to Alaska for vacation.
95. I tried smoking twice and didn't like it either time.
96. I enjoy reading an eclectic variety of books.
98. My mother was a foster child from the time she was 4 years old.
99. She met her biological family for the first time when she was 55 years old, but her mother had already died.
100. If you actually read down to the 100th one then say "the cow moos softly at midnight!!"

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Open mouth. Insert foot.

Once again, I was reading someone else's blog, Cesca's to be exact, and I thought of a post for my own. Thanks, Cesca!

When I was in college I would work out at the free University Athletic Center. It was right on campus. When I would go there mostly the Jocks would be there, football players, basketball players, track people. But that didn't bother me even though I didn't play a sport. It was a cheap place to work out.

One day I was doing squats. You know, where you put the bar on your back and squat down and lift. I was resting in between the sets and this football player came up to me and started making conversation. I'm a friendly sort of person, so we chatted. He told me about his football practice and seemed like a nice fellow. He asked me what sport I play. I told him I don't play a sport, I just work out. His reply was "Oh, really? Well, usually big, buffed up women like yourself play sports".


I just looked at him and raised my eyebrows. After all, what woman wants to be called "big" and "buffed up"? For all of you single men out there, NONE.

He then proceeded to cough, get really uncomfortable, and say "well, uh, er, uh, you know what I mean, I mean, uh, you look really good and fit". I must admit I had to chuckle. I know the guy was trying to pick me up, and he realized he just said the WRONG THING. lol. (Little did he know he didn't have a chance anyway, as I was married).

And another related story.....

My sister and I were shopping last weekend for maternity clothes for myself. We walked into this shop and go toward the maternity section. The lady behind the counter said in a perky voice "Which one is pregnant?". My very NOT pregnant sister looks at her and says in the same perky voice "Thanks for asking!". The lady kind of choked, like she was embarrassed that she asked the question and didn't know what to say. In the lady's defense she couldn't see either of our stomachs because the clothes racks were high. If she could it would have been obvious.

Yes, open mouth, insert foot.

Question: Have you ever said something embarrassing and couldn't take it back? Has anyone ever said something to you that came out all wrong?

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Pondering life

Do you ever go back to a place you once lived and feel weird? If you've lived in the same place all of your life you may not know what I am talking about.

I was born in Erie (actually a little town called Girard outside of Erie), Pennsylvania. I lived there until I was 10. My dad got tired of the snow, tired of working in steel and zinc, tired of the unions, and quit his job and moved us to Texas. When I go back to Pennsylvania, I can't help but remember the feelings of a good childhood. A happy time playing in the woods, eating berries off the wild bushes, climbing trees, stealing grapes from the grape farm up the hill, playing in the snow, sled riding down the "big hill".

We moved to Waco, Texas when I was 10. When I go there, I remember a crappy time. When I was a teenager my mom had breast cancer, my dad had a hard time finding work, my sister went through a rough time. Moving sucked, losing my friends, and I was shy so I had a hard time making new ones. But I also remember my first boyfriend, meeting my husband (we went to the same high school), "cruising the valley" with friends, climbing the fence to sneak into the public pool at midnight to skinnydip with my boyfriend, etc. The strange thing is, just going to the town brings back all of these weird feelings. All at once, not one at a time as I reminisce. Just setting foot in the town I start feeling everything at once.

I'm not the same person I was in Pennsylvania, I'm not the same person I was in Waco. I've grown. Things are different. Who WAS that girl, anyway?

Question: How many places have you lived, and do you feel strange going back to visit?

Monday, February 21, 2005

This country living is going to take some getting used to.

Besides the fact that we can't get any sort of HIGH SPEED internet out here in the depths of East Texas (yes, people, I have to do this on DIAL UP. I will pause for the gasps and pity party............), tonight I realized there are many other things I am going to have to get used to living here.

I went to the grocery store, which is about 40 minutes away. Actually, there IS a grocery store a mere 5 miles from here, but it resembles a grocery store you might see on Leave It To Beaver complete with the wooden floors and a butcher named Fred. But, it does not have 1952 prices like on Leave it to Beaver and is only open until 6pm. So I go the 40 minutes if I need more than one or two items.

I was driving home after the grocery endeavor at about 8:15. To get home I must go down a two-lane country road for about 20 miles. It was dark and I was probably driving a little faster than I should have been. About 5 miles down I had to slam on my brakes. There were about 7 pigs in the middle of the road that almost became pork right then and there. They were pink pigs with black splotches on them. It was dark so I had a hard time telling if they were black markings or mud. Me, being a city girl (or at least the suburbs) didn't know what to do. I've seen cows in the middle of the road but never pigs. And truth be told I don't know what I can do if cows are there, either. The pigs were blocking the way. I honked the horn, but apparently when pigs are in pig school they don't teach them what horns are for. They just stood there staring at me. Chewing. I'm not sure what they were chewing.

I thought about getting out of the car, but hesitated. I've never been around pigs. Can they be mean? Do they run after you? Are these farmer's pigs or wild pigs? I decided they were farmer's pigs because they were pink and didn't have tusks. It was either get out of the car and shoo them or sit there all night, because the pigs had no intention of going anywhere. I got out of the car. I stood there, thinking "what do I do?". I tried "shooing" them, but apparently they don't teach them "shoo pig" in pig school either. When I decided they weren't going to bite me, I tried pushing one on the butt with my shoe. I don't think I pushed hard enough, it was more like a tap. Again, he just stood there.

FINALLY a man in a pickup truck came along. He got out and knew exactly what to do. He picked one up, then the other, then herded a few to the side of the road. I thanked him profusely, he called me "ma'am" several times, and we were on our way. I am sure he and his friends will have lots of fun talking about the city slicker girl he found in the middle of the road trying to shoo pigs without touching them. Oh, well. At least I gave someone something to laugh about.

This baby is sucking my brain cells.

It started a few weeks ago. I was working with a customer. I JUST had the pen in my hand. I went to write something else down, and I couldn't find it. I looked under my chair. I looked on the desk, under papers, in crevaces. Nothing. And the customer didn't do anything to help. He didn't offer me one of HIS pens to use. He just sat and watched me scramble. Finally I just decided I would remember what he was telling me. Why I thought THAT was a good idea was beyond me. I couldn't even remember what I did with the pen I had in my hand 5 seconds before that. That night I got undressed and discovered the pen was in my POCKET.

Then I made a copy of my birth certificate for something my mom needed. I couldn't find what I did with it or the original. And I keep losing my keys. And I forget to take my pills. I'll go to bed thinking of 7 things I need to do the next day and only remember 4 when I wake up. And my husband says I repeat myself. Oh, and my husband says I repeat myself.

I am afraid by the time I have the baby I will be so brain dead I will be drooling and bubbling. Or, worse yet, I will have the brain of Jessica Simpson.

Question: Is there an item you tend to lose all the time?

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Deep Thoughts by Carol

My last day as a working woman was Friday. Thanks to all of you who said congratulations and wished me well already! It meant a lot. I have to admit, I am mourning the passing of this phase in my life just a bit. I spent 10 years doing what I was doing. I enjoyed the science, the travel (usually), the social aspects, the money, the independence. But, I am also pretty excited about this new phase in my life. The mommy/housewife phase. And although chances are good that I'll go back to work in a few years, it is also exciting to think that my options are open. I can go back to what I was doing, or if I chose to, I can go back to school to do something else. I feel very blessed that I have these options.

I've gotten some criticism for quitting. As I was a career woman, it would make sense that most of my friends were career women as well. I've heard things like "You are going to be bored", "You are leaving your job to live on a PREACHER'S salary? Are you crazy?", and "well, I guess it is your decision. I couldn't do it". The worst was from Bryan's grandmother. It wasn't WHAT she said, it was how she said it. She was just really condescending and rolled her eyes a lot. I'm tired of defending my decision. Working 50-70 hours a week and traveling is just not my idea of what I want to do with children. It's our decision.

So, Monday I'm going to do what a very wise woman told me to do. I'm going to SLEEP IN. Then, I'm going to organize cabinets, clean out sock drawers, do taxes, clean the garage, volunteer, pack and move, plan a graduation party, cook, and be pregnant until August. Then I'm going to sleep very little, breastfeed, and sing ABCs and lullabyes. And, ya know what? I CAN'T WAIT. I am SO excited I can hardly stand it. Welcome new life! I'm ready!

Question: Do you enjoy what you do for a living? If you could do anything you wanted in life, what would it be?

Public Service Announcement

I noticed a lot of you mentioned you don't like blogger comments because you can't see the original post. Just thought I'd mention that you can click on "Show original Post" which is in the left side just under the title and see it! It's an easy thing to miss.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Housekeeping. It was a little dusty in here.

I am playing around with my blog. I want to switch to Haloscan for the comments, but I don't want to lose the comments already on here. I'm attached to them. I like them. Oh, the dilemmas (I obviously need a life).

Anyway, I found one someone else's blog a link to this compatibility thing. I would tell you WHERE I found it but for the life of me I can't get back to that person's blog. If you have it just give yourself credit, please.

I found it fun, so I put the link there on the right side. Go do it (please) if you have a second. And if you do tell me how compatible we are. I like friends who aren't compatible with me, keeps the spice in my life, so don't worry. If we are 5% compatible I'll still consider you my friend. You may not visit my blog anymore, but, hey, I'll take the risk! :)

I also added my dog's blog. I stole that idea, too, from Adrienne. Seems like I don't have an original thought these days. You're thinking I'm wacked, I know. My dog has a PAGE. But people do weird things when they are pregnant. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Question: #1 Do you like Haloscan or blogger comments better? #2 if you actually did the compatibility thing, where do we stand?? #3 if your compatibility was less than 50%, are you still going to be my blogging friend? #4 Are you tired of my questions?

Oh, the anticipation

I am sure you are tired of hearing about my DH, but I have to brag again. My almost 17 year old niece, who I am very close to, is DATING. I am glad kids don't come out of the womb as teenagers. They come out as little, defenseless babies that are completely reliant for a reason. So that you have to invest your whole being into taking care of them and then you become VESTED. Then, when they become teenagers you have all this vested interest and you HAVE to deal with them instead of throw them back like a fish that's too small (I'm kidding, of course...sort of. :) Anyway, I'm just her aunt and I'm getting gray hairs watching this.

Because her dad is absent and has been since she was about 5 or 6 years old, my husband is the only male influence. He decided that before she gets too serious with this boy (it's just a puppy love mutual crush right now) he is going to take her on a "date" to show her how she should be treated. And he is going to tell her if any boy treats her any less, dump his ass. AND he is going to warn her about teenage boys. I think it's sweet he is willing to do this. And the kid is pretty open to it, so that's good.

Actually, she's a good kid. She is very moral, sensitive to others, and generally responsible. She IS a teenager, so she isn't perfect, but she has a good head on her shoulders. The thing that scares me the most, though, is she's CUTE, too. I've decided if I have a girl she is going to wear her hair in a bun, turtle necks, and baggy pants until she is 30. That ought to do it.

Question: At what age is it appropriate for kids to start dating?

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Of Fire Ants, Minivans, and Garbage

Good things happen to me. They really do. I know after the last few posts I've written you're probably thinking that if you ever met me there would be a grey cloud over my head and showers just on me when the rest of the world was sunny. But, really, my life is quite happy.

THAT being said, today my alarm was to go off at 6:30am. I am SO not a morning person. SO not. I would stay up until 2 am and sleep until 9 am most days if I could. Unfortunately, the world doesn't work that way. I could get away with it some because my office is/was in my house, so I could flex my hours. But, if a customer wants to see me at 8 am, I've got to be there. And today they chose 9am. (for those of you saying "HA! Just wait 'till the baby comes, you won't sleep late! You won't even know what sleeping late IS!" ...I know, I know. I'm trying to enjoy it while I can).

Anyway, today for some silly reason I woke up at 5:30 am WIDE AWAKE. I was very irritated. I didn't go to bed until midnight. It just didn't seem right. I refused to get up. I laid there until 6:30 when the alarm went off, and then I got up. When my husband is grumpy I call him "Mr. Grumpy". This morning I was "Ms. Grumpy". So, Ms. Grumpy got up and realized she is out of both cereal AND bagels AND juice in her apartment. They have been the pregnancy staples for me in the morning. But, since I haven't darkened the doorsteps of the apartment for the last 5 days, I forgot and didn't go to the store. I had to have SOMETHING. I live like a bachelor here. I had no food. The milk was curdled. When you open the pantry there is a lonely little mouse eating the last crumb. I DID have a chocolate chip cookiethat I fought the mouse for. It was good, actually.

Then Ms. Grumpy went to clean out her company van becuase she has to turn it in on Friday and she had to get it repaired before that. So, she parked the thing next to the apartment dumpster. She opened the side door and started to clean it out. She put the icky stuff (How the hell did my van get that dirty?) in a little paper bag and stuffed the bag so full it tore and the crap went all over the ground. Ms. Grumpy looked down and realized that not only did the garbage fall on top of a huge mound of fire ants but that she was also stepping in the fire ant pile. I think at that point the ants realized I knew what was up, and I SWEAR I heard a tiny, itty bitty, munchkin voice say "OK, boys! One, two, three...BITE HER!" Because suddenly the hundreds of ants that had quietly climbed inside my pant leg to my knees collectively started biting. If you don't have fire ants where you live, consider yourself lucky.

I danced, and jumped and swatted. And pulled up my pant leg to wipe them away. I hope no one was watching outside their apartment window. Although, I am sure if any Native American was watching this they would want to know the steps for their next rain dance. Or perhaps a pop coreographer. I did acrobatic acts I didn't know I was capable of doing.

I picked up most of the garbage, but I'm ashamed to admit I left a couple of pieces there, hoping the guy with the long thingie that picks up trash was soon to follow. I hate litterers, but my fingers had several welts and my legs were swollen so bad I was looking like Violet from Charlie (Willy Wonka) and the Chocolate Factory who ate the gum and blew up like a blueberry. This is what my leg looked like (no, this is not MY LEG. But the welts are the same):

How the hell do you get pictures off the web here? I am so unqualified to be a blogger. Oh, forget it. Just go here.

I'm glad to say the rest of the day wasn't quite so bad.

Question: When you fall or trip (or dance because you are bitten by fire ants) do you look around to see if anyone saw you?

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

There are creeps out there.

I get a heck of a lot of ideas for posts by reading your posts first. Yea, I'm a moocher. Milkmaid was talking about the spa day her sweet hubby gave to her for valentines. It reminded me of a creepy thing that happened to me. Actually, a series of creepy things. (Not that what her husband did was a creepy thing at was very nice, but, well, you'll see what I mean)

The position that I have that will no longer be my position as of Friday (YAY!) is that of a sales representative for a bio-tech company. I go to research laboratories to visit customers. Labs who do some sort of medical research. Some of these laboratories are government labs, so the security is high. You practically have to give them your blood type, firstborn, AND 3 sets of identification to get in. But, I digress...

Anyway, I went in to do training for these people on this new, really cool instrument. I spent the morning showing them how it worked. I was there with a guy co-worker of mine and a girl co-worker of mine. We were wrapping up, and one guy had some questions about another piece of equipment. He took me to another lab to show it to me. We were talking about it, then out of the blue he says "What does your husband do?" I guess he knew I was married because I wear a wedding ring. I replied "He's a minister". Because, in fact, he IS a minister. I will say that I have difficulty telling people that. People have these weird, misconceptions of ministers. And their wives. And they often start treating you differently. But, anyway, I told him.

He gets this weird look on his face. If you could see me I would do it for you. Then he says "Come here". So, me, being STUPID followed him. He took me down this secluded hallway to an office. He tells me to go in the office, which, again being STUPID, I did. I was really thinking he had more business to discuss. The office was really small with no windows, as it is an inner office. He shut the door. Then he tells me to sit down, and again, being STUPID, I did. The chair had wheels and he scooted it against the wall so if the door opened I would be behind it. I start then to get creeped out.

He then sits down, rolls his chair so that he is facing me, gets so close his knees are pushed up against mine. He grabs my hands so I can't move them. He gets right in my face, I mean an INCH from my face, and starts telling me how he has had visions from God about how he was supposed to start a church. He kept telling me about these visions and the things God was telling me he was supposed to do. They got weirder and weirder. I won't go into them here, and I'm not going to dispute weather people get callings from God. But I DO think that some people that think they are hearing God's voice are really just schizofrenic. And I fully believe, after hearing all of his visions, that he was one of the schizofrenics. I was waiting for him to tell me he did/was going to kill someone because God told him to. He went on and on for about 30 minutes, holding my hands and 1 inch from my face, while I was scared to death. Then he started telling me that his wife didn't understand and she thought he was crazy (imagine THAT), and that he knew I would understand (I had just met the guy that morning and it was all business until that point). He started telling me he loved me, and that I was beautiful. The guy still had my hands so I couldn't move them. I was SO afraid he was going to attack me.

FINALLY, just then there was a knock at the door. His boss was looking for us. He opened the door and I RAN out of there. I know she probably thought something weird was up. We get back to where everyone else was, and the girl co-worker of mine made a comment about how they couldn't find us. And I said "we were in his office" and he says to her "If you're lucky, I'll take YOU in there next".

We left and I was REALLY quiet. They asked me what was wrong, but I didn't want to talk about it. Finally, after a while I told them. The guy co-worker of mine told me I needed to tell my manager right then. I called him. He, being an insensitive jerk guy, said something like "Oh, that's a bad day. You need a massage to relax. I'll pay for it".

I was going to refuse. After all, after that experience the last thing I wanted was someone TOUCHING me. But, after a few days I figured I'd never had a massage. I might as well. I waited a month or so to get it, but I did. That's the first and last massage I had.

And from now on, if anyone asks, my husband is an accountant.

Question: Is there a question that seems innocent to those who ask it, but when asked of you you cringe?

Monday, February 14, 2005

Happy Valentines Day!!

I'm a hypocrite.

After my blah, blah, blahing about not wanting to do anything for Valentines Day and how you shouldn't HAVE to do anything for Valentines if you do it the rest of the year, my dearest husband did something anyway. He got me a little heart pillow with a cute pocket, a box of chocolates, and a nice card. And I liked it. I must be a hopeless romantic and I just don't want to admit it.

I think I might suggest going out to dinner, too. Although the crowds probably will be pathetic, so we may change our minds. But we haven't been out in a long time. Nothing too fancy. But someplace that doesn't have plastic tablewear.

Question: What did/are you going to do, a couple or single, for Valentines? Will you celebrate Valentines Day or S.A.D. Day? (If you don't know what S.A.D. day is...see this)

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad day.

My friend Deb gave up the "f-word" for lent. That made me think a bit. I've never been one to curse a lot. Or at all. I don't know why. Just never got into the habit, I guess. Oh, I'll curse for shock value every once in a while, although I don't tink I've ever said the f-word out loud. Like I said, no reason, really. I haven't ever flipped anyone off, either. Although, once I REALLY wish I had. This is the story....

I had just started a new job in Dallas. The company was to move us up there, but not until the house sold. So, hubby was still in the Houston area. It was my third day on the job. I knew no one in Dallas yet, and to make things worse my office was in my house, actually the temporary apartment I was in, and I visited customers. So I didn't have anyone at work to rely on either. I had been given a company car, but the guy before me trashed the thing. So, they were going to get me another, but they had to order it.

So, I'm driving down the tollway in this trashed Dodge Grand Caravan. Purple in color. I get just in front of a toll booth and the tire blows. And it jerks my steering wheel to the right, which made me go up on a curb next to the toll booth, which bent the rim on the blown out tire. Luckily I didn't hit the toll booth. One good thing happened that day.

So, I take the car limping, to the next exit and pull into a parking lot. Never fear, I'm a modern woman, my dad taught me how to change a tire when I went to college. So, I rolled up my sleeves (in my suit), opened the hatch and pulled back the carpet to get the spare tire. And it was FLAT.

Oh, great. So, what now? I know no one. I finally figured out that the leasing company that owns the company car has a service like Triple A. So, I call them. An hour later a tow truck shows up and tows me to a Firestone to get a new tire. They can't fix it that day because they don't have a rim for that particular vehicle. Fine, they call a rental car company to come get me and I'll be on my way.

I get the rental car. By now it is too late to see my customer, so I head back to the apartment. The Dallas traffic really sucked that day. I sat still in a traffic jam. The guy behind me apparently had his head up his butt. He rear-ended me. Thank GOD I had gotten the extra insurance on the rental car, which apparently I wasn't supposed to get according to the guy at my company, but since I was new and in this case he wasn't going to yell at me. Anyway, the guy who rear-ened me tried to get me to avoid telling the rental car place. Oh, yea, like they wouldn't walk to the back of the car EVER and would never notice that scrunched bumper! Jerk.

Anyway, now very frazzled and freaking out a little, wondering if this karma was going to follow me all of my days living in Dallas, I head to the apartment. Again. I went through this residential area and there was a stop sign. This stop sign was in the absolutely most STUPID place on the face of the earth. A speed bump would have been appropriate there, but a STOP SIGN?!? And me being new to the area I didn't see it. I was only driving 25 or 30, but I sailed right through. It just so happens an older lady had actually stopped on the opposite direction. Now, granted, I should have stopped. It WAS a stop sign. But I had a bad day. The older lady looks at me from her car, squints her eyes at me, tightenes her lips, and points her finger and wiggles it. As if to say "For SHAME". I regret not flipping her off. I'm sure it would have had every effect I intended. And I'm sure she would have squealed a "WELL, I NEVER!"

Question: #1 Have you ever had a conversation with someone and afterwards thought of 100 things you should have said? AND #2 Do you think I should have flipped the lady off, or was it better that I refrained?

Friday, February 11, 2005

I'm tired of talking about ME.

Seems like all my blog posts start with "I". I'm sure you are tired of hearing about ME. ME ME ME ME ME.

So, today folks, I'm going to talk about those in my blogroll. I don't have that many. I keep my very favorites over there. I have to REALLY like you to put you there. I visit them every day and rarely visit others, although I'm always open to suggestions of other good blogs.

First there's Happy and Blue. I think everyone knows him. He's a very popular guy. He has probably the most hilarious blog I've ever read. He makes me smile and ponder the meaning of life all at the same time. One day I was reading his blog and laughed so hard my husband was worried about me. Finally five minutes later I squeaked out what I was laughing at. My sister reads HIS every day but mine only when I beg her.

Next, theres Just my Junk. This is my friend Adrienne. She is a rather quiet, sweet lady. She is so considerate of others and has the mothering instinct of a bear. Don't mess with her babies. She's such a great mom. And lady. And friend.

Third is Odd Spot. Deb, now here's another that has the mothering instinct of a bear. She is an incredible mom two two sons with Asperger's syndrome. She has become quite the advocate on autism, and has congressmen coming to HER house. Not her going to them. She is one strong lady. And a great friend.

The next is On the Garden Wall . I can't say I know her well, because I'm new to her blog. But, she has the unique way of eloquently putting her stories so I know exactly what she is saying and feeling at the time. And she's pretty funny, too!

Then on to Rocks and Garbage. Angie got me into blogging in the first place. I think my husband is mad at her about that. And now she's gotten so advanced in her blog that I don't know if we can be friends anymore. (Kidding, Ang!). She is such a neat lady, always with a smile on her face whose caring goes to exponential proportions. She's always thinking of someone else. Probably because she has FOUR kids. (Yes, I counted them).

Next is Spilled Milk. The random thoughts of a Milkmaid. She is such a nice, down to earth lady. So non-judgemental and genuine. Her blog is nice and refreshing.

Last, but not least is True Blue 4Ever. Elle is so poetic, and witty, and writes so well you can tell what she's thinking and feeling. And so nice and sweet, too! I enjoy her blog a lot, probably because I feel like I relate to her a lot. Well, that and she writes so darn well.

**I had to edit this post as I just added another good one....Tidbits, Thingamajigs and Whatchamacallits. I'm new to Frally's too, but she is a good writer. And her mind works much like mine, which is scary.***

So, folks, check these dear people out. And, since I'm looking forward to expanding my blogging world:

Question: What is your favorite blog to visit and why??

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Tamper Resistant.

I just opened a jug of water. Now, I feel I must put a disclaimer here. I don't buy water because I'm afraid of it. Or worried that it has impurities, lead or otherwise, or has been tampered with. I buy water for my Houston apartment (soon to not be my apartment anymore. YAY!) because the water in Houston tastes like crap. And I need to drink water. It is important. So, I buy the stuff. Simply as a taste luxury. In the little town that my husband is in, and that I soon will be in full time, I don't buy water. The stuff from the tap is fine. It tastes like water. Not like crap.

So, anyway, back to the reason for this post. The jug had that little plastic ring around it like the milk jugs do. (If you are from Canada, our milk does not come in bags, but jugs. Like this (Sorry, that's the best picture I could find). But you probably have the jugs there, too. I was just amazed by the bags last time I visited). I tore it off and then opened the cap. Under the cap was a plastic thingie that I then had to tear off.

I appreciate their concern for my safety, but I must say I think that is a bit overboard. After all, in the very same store is the produce section, where I can pick up an apple, no wrapper, no tamper resistant packaging, not even a dust cover, and eat it right there. It just doesn't make sense that you would need an armed guard and 4 pieces of identification to get into the water jug. I think the ring thing alone would make anyone wanting to tamper it to go over to the apples instead.

Question: Do you buy bottled water or use tap, and why?

My brain is dead.

Do you ever just run into a blogging fog? I'm in such a blicky mood, dispite the fact that the SUN is actually out today (woo hoo!). Nothing is new here. I have had no "ahh, ha!" moments in the last day or two. I've pondered nothing.

Well, that last statement is not true. I'm in a blicky mood because two people very dear to me are thinking of calling their marriage quits. I hurt for them. I can't imagine how difficult their pain is. I ponder how things get that bad, and I pray I never know.

Sorry for the downer post.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

I think too much.

Why do they call it a DAY spa? Is there such a thing as a NIGHT spa?

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Honey Do.

For those of you regular to my blog, I'm SURE you were on the edge of your seat wondering if I came through and quit my job like I said I was going to. Well, I almost chickened out, but my husband finally convinced me, and I did. My last day is next Friday.

So, I'm going to be a stay-at-home mom. But, the baby won't be here until August, so until then I will be a lady of leisure. I've never been a lady of liesure before. I've had a job since I was 15. Often two jobs.

Anyway, I'm feeling strange about the whole nothing to do thing. Even though I worked out of the house with my job I was out seeing customers 75% of the time. And working long hours. But between now and August we will be moving. AND I have to move out of my apartment, so that's two moves. So, I'll have packing to contend with. And Bryan will be finishing school (yipee!!) so I'll have to plan some sort of party thing. And family will be here for graduation. And he's got the first conditional ordainiation ceremony thingie that's a big deal which family will be here for. And we're going to have a garage sale, which will be mostly a PITA.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to doing all of the things I've put off for the last two years because maintaining two places was difficult. Especially when you are only at the bigger one two or three days a week. Before I was always an organizational, clean freak so to speak. I've been accued of being Martha. With the exception of the jail part. I've even put together a Honey Do list that I put on the fridge. Bryan has been adding to it, too.

1. Find a place for buttons that come with clothes that end up all over the house.
2. Fold the fitted sheets that Bryan was nice enough to wash but doesn't have a clue how to fold so he wads them in the linen closet.
3. Brush and floss the dog's teeth.
4. Clean garage
5. Clean and organize under the bathroom sink. Put misc. crap into plastic bins.
6. Clean out file cabinet.

If you can think of anything else I need to put on the list, please let me know.

Question: What household chore have you been putting off?

Monday, February 07, 2005

Strange Bedfellows

My husband talks in his sleep. Generally he doesn't give me any good information, per se. He doesn't reveal some swiss bank account he has been hiding from me or anything like that. But he DOES give me some good ammo for blackmail. And it's a great topic of conversation at parties.

For example, probably my favorite story about my husband talking in his sleep to share at parties (He's going to LOVE me when he reads this blog entry) is this one. We were married about a year. It was late 1993 or early 1994. In the wee hours of the morning, he taps me on the shoulder and shakes me gently to wake me up.
My irritated response is "What."
He calmly, yet matter of factly says "Call Ghost Busters".
Now, keep in mind, that movie was popular in the 80's. Well before 1993. So, I think I couldn't possibly have heard him right. After all, where could he come up with THAT?
I respond "What??"
He, again calmly and matter of factly, like he was telling me to call our insurance agent or something "Call Ghost Busters".
Now, I'm wide awake and trying desperately not to burst out laughing. I respond, half laughing "WHAT??".
He starts to get some sort of wits about him, and responds "Oh, never mind".
He then rolls over and goes back to sleep. However, I am now wide awake and shaking the bed I'm lauging so hard. He didn't remember a thing the next morning.

Last night at about 1am he did it again. No, not Ghost Busters, but he jumps up, startled, wakes me up and asks if I put something in his hair. Oh, yea, the light has been off for an hour and a half, I've been asleep, but for some reason I decided to get up, find something, and put it in his hair.
I responded "No"
He said "I felt something in my hair".
I asked if he was dreaming. He said "Maybe" and fell back to sleep. At that point he started snoring and I coudln't get back to sleep, so I did consider putting something in his hair as payback.

When I was little I would walk in my sleep. I was about four years old and saw the episode of the Waltons where they had the fire. It scared the begeebers out of me. My parents caught me trying to climb out of my second story window while sleepwalking in the middle of the night. Thank God they had a screen on it, and thank God four year olds don't know how to remove screens or I probalby would have been a goner. My parents had to bolt my window.

Question: Have you ever talked or done anything else embarrassing or noteworthy in your sleep?

Thanks to Angie for telling me about the baby ticker I put above!

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Chocolate Cake Anonymous

My name is Carol and I have a chocolate cake problem (***pause for you to say "Hi Carol"***).

It started out innocently many years ago, when I was about six or seven. My parents got me an easy bake oven for Christmas. They would not have gotten it for me had they been able to see the future, I am sure. After all, how many cakes could I make when cooking with a lightbulb? Soon I was invited to birthday parties, where chocolate cake would be served. I would have just one slice like the other children. But I wanted more.

In high school there was an incident. It should have been a sign of things to come, but denial is a powerful thing. I went to a party and could not control myself. I had too much chocolate cake. By the middle of the evening the sugar rush had gone to my head. I danced on tables, put lamp shades on my head. I was the life of the party. But I had gone too far and the sugar rush soon made me crash. I had to call my parents to come and get me. I couldn't drive in that condition.

My parents thought it was the typical teenage chocolate cake addiction. They thought if they let me eat cake at home I wouldn't be tempted to do it with my friends and it would be safer. But by college I was turning down invitations to go out with friends so I could stay home and eat chocolate cake. And it got to the point that only the good stuff would do. No grocery store bakery cake would work anymore. I wanted the hard stuff....the chocolate cake mixes with pudding in the mix. I experimented with different frostings, I made black forest cake at night after my parents were asleep. I even made german chocolate one night.

I knew my problem had to be stopped this morning, though. I got up and, even though I am 12 weeks pregnant, I had chocolate cake for breakfast. With a glass of milk. Which is why I'm here, at chocolate cake anonymous. After all, admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

Question: What did you have for breakfast?

Saturday, February 05, 2005

I'm going to do a marathon.

I'm so excited about it! I've always wanted to participate in a marathon. A lot of my friends have done it. They say it is very rewarding. I know it will be tough. I probably should train for it so I can endure the thing. I'm a little concerned about doing it while I'm pregnant. I'll probably have to stop and go to the bathroom a lot, but I don't see that as being a huge problem. And being able to say I did it will be quite an accomplishment. Something I can tell my children and grandchildren.

In fact, you can do it with me if you'd like! Oh, come on. We'll endure this marathon together. It's the Little House on the Prairie Marathon on The Hallmark Channel Sunday starting at 1pm Eastern.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

I have a confession.

I am about to confess something that I am ashamed to admit. Something that I am sure will change the opinions that just about every one of you has for me. I am going to risk this, because I feel it is time to come out of the closet, so to speak. It is something that I've done for years, but I hid it. I'm tired of hiding it. It's time I faced the truth. It is time my friends knew me for who I really am.

I watch Matlock.

Yea, I am only 32. Yes, I realize the demographic for that show is 70-82 years of age. I don't know how I got hooked on it. It just happened. At first it meant nothing. I would watch Little House on the Prairie (You're probably wondering why I'm not embarrassed to admit that one!) and it was on afterward. But then one day I realized as I was looking through the TV Guide that I would make note of when Matlock was on. It has gone downhill from there. I find his cases interesting. The way he solves every one and never has lost. Well, it's like following a super hero! If I watch long enough certainly he will lose a case!

Before now when my husband would walk in the room and I was watching Matlock I would pretend I was surfing the channels. Or, that I was preoccupied with something else and didn't notice it was on. But, yea, it's time. I'm tired of hiding it. The first step is recognizing you have a problem.

Question for the day...What TV show do you watch that you are embarrassed about?

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

S.A.D. Day

I don't like Valentines Day. I know, I'm a girl. I'm supposed to like it. I'm supposed to get all giddy when my husband brings me flowers and candy. Maybe if I hadn't married the best guy in the world (sorry, girls, he's taken) who brings me flowers once or twice a year for the heck of it I would feel differently. But I think when he gets me the little somethings on no occassion it means a heck of a lot more than the obligatory Valentine.

But, in all honesty, I don't like Valentines Day because I have to reciprocate. What the hell do you get a guy for Valentines day? After 12 years of marriage and several years of dating before that the conversation heart boxers and chocolate that says "I heart you" gets old. He ACTS like he likes it. But then I find the boxers at the back of his underwear drawer by March1st.

And, I think we discriminate on Valentines Day. Discriminate against single people. My sister has had more than her share of bad relationships. She calls Valentines day "S.A.D. day". Single Awareness Day. I feel bad for her on Valentines Day. Although she usually makes a game of it. She'll go home from work, put on her plaid flannels, put her hair in a ponytail, light smelly candles, make a margarita, and watch a movie. Actually, that sounds pretty good to me. Maybe just for support, of course, I'll celebrate S.A.D. day, too.

Question of the day....How do you feel about Valentines Day??

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

The Moose is loose.

I woke up this morning in a relatively bad mood. My neighbors apparently have not resolved their differences. At 3:21 am I heard something like he doesn't realize she is a good person and I couldn't figure out what she didn't realize. His voice is lower than hers and he doesn't have that bloodcurdling scream. Honestly, if I wasn't a little afraid, I would go up there, knock on the door, and ask them nicely to keep it down. But, being a woman alone I was afraid no one would find my body.

So, already grumpy, and a little nauseous (still got that morning sickenss thing), I got in the shower this morning. Washed my hair. Got out of the shower. Toweled off, and then had one of those panic moments. I realized I AM OUT OF HAIR MOUSSE.

Oh, yea. I see you. You are rolling your eyes, saying something like "Stupid, vain woman". You just don't understand. I have curly hair. If I don't put in mousse or gel to tame the thing it gets out of control. If I walk out in public that way I scare small children. Men run in fear. Women protect their infants. Dogs howl. And, it poofs out so badly it is hard to walk through a doorway.

So, I put my hair up in a ponytail. Big deal, right? But, I never wear a ponytail unless I am working out. And I CERTAINLY wouldn't go out and meet with customers with a ponytail. You see, I have a "family" nose. Have you ever met anyone that had a nose passed down from their father that was in a beauty pageant? I think not. I think Clinger (Klinger?) on M*A*S*H was very proud of his "family" nose. Sam the Eagle on the Muppets has a family nose. I also have a complextion that the US Army has asked if they can drive their tanks on for practice because the craters are much like the sand dunes in Saudi. Oh, no, it's not pretty.

But, I DO have long hair. So, I use it as a shield. It hides the nose and complexion. I walk with more confidence. Cats don't claw my eyes out because they are afraid. It works.

After my work appointments this morning I bought two cans of Mousse. That way I will always have a backup.

Question: What is the one thing you would not want to go without on any given day?

Pass the Stick

Angie at Rocks and Garbage passed the stick to me. I'm new at this, so beware...

What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
31. Those were the 31 Simon and Garfunkel songs that I did not own. Yes, Simon and Garfunkel. No, I am not 65. No, I am not suicidal. I love those guys, though. They sure know how to harmonize. And the lyrics are untouchable.

The CD you last bought is:
The Essentials, by Simon and Garfunkel. I promise I DO have other song interests. They aren't the ONLY people I listen to. I'm not demented. (Oh, shut up. ;)

What is the song you last listened to before reading this message?
Purple Rain by Prince. I was in the car. It was on the radio.

Write down 5 songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you:
Geez. I am in my car a minimun of 9 hours a week, so I listen to a helluva lot of songs. What means a lot to me? Geez. OK, how 'bout:
1. The one with the guy who is singing about the girl he likes but she likes someone else.
2. The one that everyone really liked in the 80's that is no longer popular now.
3. Any song by Simon and Garfunkel
4. The one that talks about sex through the whole thing.
5. Oh, I almost forgot, the one that that really, really weird guy sings.

Who are you going to pass this stick to? (3 persons) and why?
Since between Deb, Angie, and Elle all of the sticks have been passed to the people I know the most, I am going to pick a few who I don't know that well (except Adrienne) and hope they get over it.
1. Adrienne at Just my Junk because she is new at this and she is the COOLEST lunch lady on the face of the earth. And one of the sweetest people I know.
2. Joy at Joy and laughter because she never updates her blog and it gets on my nerves.
3. ChosenDaughter at Singular Diva Blog because, well, she just seems very cool and sincere.