Red Light

We pulled up to a red light the other day and I chuckled at the car in front of us.

"Hey, read that car's license plate," I said.

"9-fer, G78??...what's that mean?" He responded.

"No. Read that license plate frame thing-a-ma-jig."

[laughter]

It read 'Smile. I could be behind you.'

It was an undercover cop.

Celebs

Celebrities. Athletes. People in the public eye. I've been saying for years that groups of people are not held to the same standards as us ordinary folk. They have babies out of wedlock, contract diseases their spouses don't have, get divorced after 72 days of hard work, and can drink and drive with the best of them. The difference between these celebrities and us is it never seems to ruin their lives. They keep their careers. They keep their money. It sometimes seems as if they go through life with little or no consequences. The problem I have with this is shouldn't they actually be held to HIGHER standards than the average Joe Schmo? They are in the public eye, and yes, I can imagine that's tough at times, but they chose that life for themselves. Which means there are millions of people watching them. Millions of impressionable people. Teens and children who look to our celebrities and athletes as role models. Someone to aspire to be. And what are they aspiring to? Talent on the field? Good screen presence? Or multiple baby daddies, infidelity and drug use.

I am reading a book this week that, rather ironically, reminded me of my thought on this particular topic. I say ironically because it isn't some intellectual novel or informative satire. It's chick lit. About a middle aged couple who have lost themselves and each other. The husband was an ex NFL player who blew out his knee, became addicted to pain killers, and has spent 15 years sober trying to work his way up as a sportscaster that no one wants to take a chance on. The book doesn't delve into any of these hot topics. But in an interview that makes him someone again he has this to say: "I'm angry. We've taken nineteen-year-old kids and turned them into multimillion-dollar celebrities. We've absolved them of responsibility for everything except perfuming well in the arena. They drive drunk, we slap their wrist. They rape women, we say the women should have known better. They bite off their opponents' boy parts, for God's sake, and a few years later, they're back in the ring, earning millions. When I was in the NFL, the world opened up for me. all I had to do was play well. I was unfaithful to my wife and unavailable to my kids. And you know what? No one blamed me for any of it. Everyone talked about the pressures of being a star quarterback. But life is tough for everyone. It took me fifteen hard years, but I finally learned that I was nothing special. I could throw a ball. Big deal. We have to quit letting our celebrities and our athletes live by their own standard. We need to become a nation of good sports again."

If it's true in fiction, shouldn't it be true in the real world??

My Life: In High Def

So by now you should all know that I need glasses. And that I am not happy about it. Well now, two weeks later, I have glasses. And I'm still not happy about it. I haven't worn them too much. I feel like I need to ease myself into them. When I picked them up the eyeglass technician (salesman? spokesperson?) informed me I don't have a 'horrible prescription.' Which I took to mean my eyes aren't that bad. Maybe I don't need to wear these things afterall! He told me not to wear them while driving until I was used to them. Well, HELLO, the main reason I got them was for driving. So the ONLY time I have worn them has been in the car. And I have to say (sadly) I have seen a huge difference. Turns out those green signs on the road...they actually have words! And license plates...they have numbers! And the spedometer...that's all blurry. Oh wait, thats because I don't need glasses for something as close as the spedometer. That has been the biggest adjustment. My distance vision is spot on. But if I look at anything too close to my face it has a weird etheral haze to it. Do you think that would fly if I got pulled over? I'm sorry, Officer. I have to wear glasses to drive, but they make the spedometer so blurry I can't tell how fast I'm going! The biggest change I've noted, however, has been in the trees. What before was a blob of color in the sky, now has individual leaves! It really is like switching over to a high definition television.

Java

I was shopping the other day and I saw a sign that was quite perfect for me. It was one of those metal retro numbers with a 50s style chick holding a 50s style coffee pot. And it said:

Java Junkie

I drink coffee for your protection

This is sooo true of me. If I haven't had my coffee you just don't want to mess with me.

Shoes

I wouldn't call myself a girl with a shoe fettish. I like shoes. I like buying shoes. But I'm not chomping at the bit to get the latest and greatest styles. And my favorite shoe stores are Payless and Target, so it's not like I have really high standards. But for someone who doesn't have a fettish, I sure do have a lot of shoes. I bring this up because I was organizing my closets yesterday (Yes, I said closets. As in plural. As in my clothes take up two out of three bedroom closets. Plus a dresser. Plus a storage bin. Plus...just kidding) and I decided my shoes were taking up entirely too much shelf space and this must be rectified. And so I purchased a shoe orangizer and proceed to organize every last pair into the appropriate little nook. I also weeded out some clothes and donated a garbage bag full (okay only half a garbage bag, as half was my sister's giveaways). But still it was progress! I got rid of sweaters that have been in the 'Donate if you don't wear it in the next month' category for three years now; but that haven't left the hangers to wear or give away. You would think with the space they were hogging, I would have given up some shoes as well. But I didn't. Every last flip flop was too cute (even though I wear the same two pairs over and over again). The falling apart pair are my Austrailia flip flops, and if you don't know what my Australia flip flops are you don't know me at all, but that's a story for a different day. All the pumps are still in good shape (probably because I don't wear pumps, I wear flats). All the flats...I wear. Even the four inch stilletos (that were given to me, not purchased) that I have never worn could come in handy one day. You know, if I want to break a leg or something. And so even though I still maintain I don't have a fettish. I do, apparently, have trouble parting ways.

Invites

I have gotten three Evites in the last two weeks. And I can't attend any of them! Okay, so it's not like I really want to attend all of them, but what are the odds that I'm not free any of the three days. I guess the odds are pretty good when you work some weekends and they seem to like to schedule you for the most inoportune ones. I have a feeling this is going to be the story of my life this holiday season. Work a bunch of weekends. Have Thanksgiving off. Work three weekends in a ROW have Christmas---oh wait, WORK Christmas. Have New Years off. Maybe make my resolution be to win the lottery, quit my job and go be a beach bum somewhere fabulous.

DST

Don't forget to set your clocks back! I am not a fan of daylight savings time, so I am actually dreading doing this tonight. I know, I know. It's fall. We're turning the clocks back. We get an extra hour. But get real. How many of us will actually go to bed at the same time to take advantage of it. We'll look at the clock and say midnight? Nah, it's really like 11pm. And then we'll continue to stay up and miss out on actually getting an extra hour of sleep. Of course, what with it being a Saturday it could mean an extra hour of partying. It's 2am, the bar is closing, but wait--oh sorry! It's now instantly back to 1am! Bring that last round one more time. And maybe, if I didn't have to be at work at 7am tommorrow morning, I'd be right with you. We are hitting up a concert tonight, so I suppose I should look at it not as gaining an hour of sleep, but not losing an hour of sleep when I stay up later than I should before a 12 and half hour shift. Maybe I am just completely overanalyzing this whole thing and it's more of a psychological phenomenon rather than an actual solid hour of extra sleep that leaves us pumped. But, however, you look at it I would rather keep the sun out longer in the evenings than gain an 'extra hour' once a year. In my neck of the woods it was dark at 6:15 last night. Which means, tomorrow it will be dark at 5:15. Which means it will be dark and I'll still have TWO more hours of work left. And something about that is just plain depressing.

Change Up

It has been recommended to me that I change my blog up a bit. It seems, with a few posts being exceptions, I tend to blog in a 'rant' sort of style. I find it easier to blog about small, sub-consequential, tidbits rather than important matters. And, as it turns out, I especially like to blog about sub-consequential things that annoy me. Just wanted to update you: I realize this. I rant. A lot. And so it has been mentioned that maybe I should embrace it rather than keep apologizing for it. Maybe my blog needs a new title. Here are some possibilities.

1. "My Life in Rants"

2. "A Rant A Day Keeps the Doctor Away"

3. "Sir-Rant-A lot"

I am open to other suggestions.

Tipping

We went out to dinner recently at a popular chain restaraunt in a part of town not known for its exceptional service. In fact, it seems everytime we go to this area, whether it be to eat or shop, we run into surly, incompetent people.

Our waitress on this particular occasion was somewhat of an enigma. We couldn't fault her on her service. She was timely, bringing out all courses and refills promptly. She was efficient, clearing dishes each time she approached the table. She responded to our every need well within the time in which each task should take. She, however, had no personality. At least not one she cared to share with us. She wasn't rude. She did not have an attitude. She was polite in everything she said. She simply made her lack of desire to be serving well known. Her tone was bland, her eyes glazed over in boredom and she made not a single interaction that was not necessary to complete her job.

While eating, we contemplated what to make of this. How should we tip her? Could we really fault her for not being engaging? Our food was hot. It was delievered quicker than expected. Our order was correct and she didn't forget a single appetizer or refil. Still, despite being outwardly polite, her tone and inflection made us feel very unwelcome at her table. What if we gave her a simple 'tip test'? Being decent tippers in most instances we can assume our normal tip would be 20%. What if we broke that down? Ten percent of her tip is based on service and efficiency and ten percent on mood. She'd get the full 10% for service, but her mood ranked about a two out of ten. That's a 12% tip. Hmm...She wasn't that bad.

Okay. So being the customer that actually prefers not to have too much interaction with a server, maybe mood shouldn't rank quite as high as serving capabilities. So she'll get the full 15% for being a capable server. But then while I don't like to be pestered at a meal, and she checked on us an appropriate number of times, I do like to feel welcome and not like I'm burdoning you. So mood now becomes a one out of five for making me feel guilty for inconviencing you.

Service 15/15= 15%

Mood 1/5 (20% of the available 5%)= 1%

Tip 16%

Seems more appropriate. We gave her twenty. But I think I may use this for future interactions. Thoughts?

Eye Glasses

I need glasses. :( I am a bit distressed by this. My eyesight is failing me. It's just one more step closer to oldladydom. My vision has been getting blurrier for two years now. I've seen it happening. I've noticed changes. I've put off going to the doctor. Why? Because I always put off going to any doctor. And because I didn't want to hear what I already knew. Still, a part of me secretly thought I was wrong. And she would tell me my sight was fine.

She didn't. Turns out I am nearsighted. I need glasses for distance. And when she up the proper lenses in front of me I could see just how much I've been missing.

Still, I am not excited about this pending purchase.

The Lion King

I promised someone I would blog about The Lion King. We are watching it now. I am not the hugest Disney fan and so I am watching it to make someone happy. A few of his comments are making it worthwhile. For example:

"Mufasa's the shit, Scar's a prick"

Kinda helps to have a less than G-rated commentary.

Although the scene on now where we watch his father's murder and his finding the body isn't exactly kid friendly. What was good old Walt Disney thinking?? The circle of life my butt.

In My Basement

We have people living in our basement. I don't know where they came from. They just showed up one day and decided to pop a squat down there. Just kidding....They have actually lived in the basement longer than we have lived in the main house. When we first moved in they were relatively quiet. We were assured by our landlord that they were frequently not at home, working odd hours and retiring to their country home frequently. Plus there is sound proofing insulation between the floors. Or so he claimed.

For the first few months things were relatively quiet. We didn't run into each other. We didn't hear very much. And they did frequently visit their other home.

Recently, however, they have become quite loud. Not in an obnoxious I've had it with them sort of way. But in an, 'Oh yeah, peeps live down there sort of way.' We hear snippets of conversations, tv shows, doors closing, toilets flushing, water running. Today I overheard an arguement. And most of the time this is okay. What is not okay is walking into my dark house, hearing voices and freaking out that someone else is there, only to realize that someone else is just being heard through the basement door. It happened the first time the weekend of the hurricane. I came home late to an empty house and they were having one heck of a hurricane party down there. Then again this past weekend. I returned from work and could have sworn someone was in the kitchen talking to me. They were below the kitchen.

I don't know if they have gotten exponentially louder, if the soundproofing isn't doing its job or maybe we are both just present in the house together more frequently. But it has me wondering. If I can hear them, what can they hear of me....

Don't go grocery shopping hungry.

Grocery shopping is the bane of my existence. I don't know why, but I absolutely hate it. If I had three wishes, one of them would probably be to have my fridge and cupboards permanently stocked for me. I would love to never have to buy food again, but go to the kitchen to grab a snack and have it always be there. How awesome would that be?

Yesterday I was hungry. It was lunch time. So I scuttled to the store. I returned an hour later with five boxes of cereal, three things of coffee creamer (gotta hit the deals, right?), some random meats and veggies for dinner, but absolutely nothing for lunch. I spent the whole time craving all the yummy junk food that looked ten times better with my stomach grumbling. And didn't actually focus enough to buy what I needed.

So I ate a piece of bread with peanut butter that was in the cabinet an hour earlier, before leaving for the store.

I Apologize in Advance

I feel like my blog has become a series of posts on disturbing creatures. I swear to you, my life revolves around more than pests of the more disgusting variety. It is just that they are what happen to be plaguing me recently. I have found more disturbing bugs and crawly things in the suburbs than I ever found in all of my DC apartments combined. Luckily, most of them have been outdoors.

Today I walked down to retrieve my mail and found this:
It was difficult to capture on camera, the web having been made of very fine silk. I almost didn't see it myself, but the sparkling raindrops it collected caught my eye. The owner was not in residence. I assume he was off seeking shelter from the storm. Hopefully, not in my mailbox.

Then I retrieved my garbage can. (Yes, suburb neighbors I am THAT person. The one who leaves the garbage cans out three days after trash collection). And in retrieving it I came across about five of these:
SLUGS. Slugs are super gross. They are supposedly benign and actually good to have around. Although I can't remember their positive attributes. But they are slimy. And feel really gross if you are unfortunate enough to step on one barefooted. This sucker would've been incredibly slippery squishing between some bare toes. ::shudder:: Don't believe me? If you put a cup of beer outside you could probably catch yourself a few. They like to get their drink on.

I left the slugs alone too. Then I walked into my house and got bit on the forehead by a mosquito. Where's my good karma?

Christmas in...October??

I was doing a little retail therapy the other day and couldn't help but notice the employees putting out Christmas stock in the local Bed Bath & Beyond. This is not the first store I have seen the beginnings of Christmas in. JCPenny has some out as well. And Walmarts are already stocking Christmas gift cards (although the gift card seems to be more of an easy last minute kind of purchase, why you have to purchase a Christmas gift card in October is beyond me). Christmas seems to come to stores earlier and earlier every year, and while I have purchased two small gifts already, I have an issue with this. It is the beginning of October. We have yet to reach Halloween. There is still Thanksgiving to think about. Pumpkins, turkeys and Santa Clauses side by side seems a little funny to me. Plus, while I love the Christmas season, I'm not a big fan of shopping during it. And Christmas carols in small doses are okay, but am I going to have to listen to them for TWO months!?! That might drive me a bit nutty.

Excerpts from Real Emails

BW: Are you ever going to write me back? Also I think you got me sick. (email in it's entirety)
EA: I AM going to write you back. This one will be short, but I'll write more tomorrow while I'm wishing the time away at work. Also, I don't think I was sick, so how did I get you sick?? Sorry you're not feeling well though!
BW: I thought you were sick recently? Weren't you? Maybe I'm thinking of someone else.
EA: Yeah, pretty sure I wasn't sick. Sorry, but you got someone else's germs, not mine. (Editorial side note: gmail informs me else's is not a word. Nor is elses. Nor is someoneelses. What is the grammatically appropriate way to phrase that? Dude, yo ass got some other dawgs coodies? Those germs came from someone else? You acquired a pathogen from some unknown origin. I was not the source?) **She's an editor, she can answer these all important questions.
BW: I'm pretty sure "else's" is a word. But of the other options, I prefer the one involving the use of the word "dawgs." But I'm pretty sure it's spelled "cooties." **Sometimes, the fact that she's an editor bites me in the butt.

Blogger doesn't recognize "else's" as a word either. Must be a Google thing.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

At first glance, nothing. The husband's grilling. The trees are blooming. But, wait for it...wait for it...THIS is what's wrong with the picture!

This sucker was hanging just outside our kitchen. He went unnoticed for awhile. And then out of the blue there he was. I'm pretty sure I yelled 'Holy F!' before scuttling inside to arm myself for battle.
I took a few moments to marvel at his horrendousness. And snap some pictures to document. And then we sprayed the shit out of him.
Can you see him in the stream?
He was completely white by the time we were done. Then he crawled in his hole and died. So I might be able to get some sleep tonight.

A Fox and a Hot Dog

I saw a fox today. Eating a hot dog. It walked right up to the concession stand and snatched it. Sort of disturbing.

Today I offered* to share my Reese's. I'll pause a moment for your applause. Seriously. This was a huge accomplishment for me.

*Thankfully the offer was not accepted. Phew.

Shopping Carts, ATMs and TV Remotes

I am a little bit of a germaphobe. Not so much at home or even out in the real world. But at work I am a fanatic. I wash. I scrub. I sanitize. I try not to wear work clothes around the house once I get home. (Especially after the hubby delightfully pointed out this article). But as soon as I am showered and changed these rules go out the window. Where at work I won't touch my water bottle without Purelling, at home I don't think twice about it. Snacking while on the computer, no problem. Skittle on the floor? That's okay the floor was cleaned, err...last week. I'm careful while cooking, don't want to cross contaminate and wind up with salmonella, but otherwise I don't obsess about cleanliness while snacking around the house. And then I read THIS article.

It's all about common objects you come across during every day activity. Shopping carts, for example. Shopping carts, where you place your food before shuttling it home to eat, have been found to contain dangerous bacterias, with up to 80% contaminated. Self-checkout screens are rife with bacteria that have been transplanted. And ATMs are just as dirty.

A few expected items made the top ten, with recommendations not to share toothbrushes, razors and hairbrushes (although nothing was said about the fact we use them ourselves). But the one that grossed me out the most was the TV remote. It is said to be the germiest item in homes. You don't even think about it. Channel surfing during dinner. Pausing the movie to get some popcorn. Just failing to wash your hands prior to eating. And in your own home is one thing. But what about at a friends house? Or hotel room. The previous occupant failed to wash his hands after using the restroom and deposited E. coli on the remote. E. coli. As in bacteria from fecal matter. This remote is now laying on your pillow as you channel surf while enjoying your vending machine Snickers.

Gross.

Aloha!

Since we last spoke...Exciting news update...I am going to Hawaii!!
Well, actually, WE are going to Hawaii. We hijacked Brandrew's trip and kinda, sorta invited ourselves along. And then nagged and plotted and forced their hands in buying tickets early. A procrastinator in most things in life, when it comes to travel I am on the ball! So booking tickets 9 months in advance seems completely normal to me. We are now all booked for 14 hours of travel. I will be dreaming of palm trees all winter. Palm trees are one of my all time favorite things!

One of my not so favorite things...driving to AND from work in the dark and rain. If it is going to rain it could at least be sunny. And if I have to spend 12 and half hours holed up indoors the sun could at least appear before I arrive to work or stay up long enough for me to catch a peek at the end of my day. It's only September and I'm already missing the long days of sunny summer. I am dreading day light savings time. The dark days of winter are not my friend.

News flash #2: I am a negative person. I was informed of this today by a coworker. Alright, so it wasn't really a newsflash. I am aware that I often choose negative thoughts over positive ones. I like to ponder worst case scenarios. But it's not because I actually believe they will happen. I just like to be prepared. Thinking of everything that can go wrong prepares me when something does. And when everything works out, I'm that much happier. Weird? Slightly screwed up? Maybe. So since virtual strangers are recognizing my pessimism I'm going to attempt a more positive outlook in the future. I'll be a glass half full kind of gal. The grass is greener on MY side of the fence. And since the rain couldn't possibly slow down my AM commute I get 15 extra minutes of sleep tonight. Positivism could work for me. ;)

The Big Apple

Over the weekend we journeyed to The Big Apple to visit my sister. Bridge is an editorial assistant for a fancy schmancy publishing house and recently moved into her first New York apartment! We traveled up with furniture and important living essentials in tow and proceeded to haul them up to her fifth floor walk up apartment. Let me tell you...one summer weekend of living in an unairconditioned, unelevatored building and I'm ready to kiss Mr. Carrier and Mr. Otis, who were, ironically, both New Yorkers (a little tidbit I picked up when I decided I needed to mention the inventors by name for some unfathomable reason). But overall, the apartment is tres cute, with a lot more space than I expected for a Manhattan zip code.

Having been born in New York I never actually made it into the city for the first twenty-two years of my life. Then my venturous sister took the plunge and chose to attend Fordham University. I went from having never stepped foot in the Big Apple to visiting at least two or three times a year. Bridget originally moved home after college and this was my first trip back up in the fourteen months since her graduation.

I have to say in the the multitude of trips I have now made, New York has never left that great of an impression on me. It seems to me the streets are crowed, both with cars and pedestrians, there is a perpetual odor of garbage and everyone is always in an incredible hurry. Don't get me wrong, I am one of very little patience. So the hustle and bustle and constant motion isn't all a bad thing. It's the hustling and bustling into one another, honking, cutting everyone off, fearing for your life as you dart across the street whether you have the right of way or not, and overall vibe of chaos that leaves me utterly exhausted. I crave a day of never leaving my couch or pajamas after every visit.

And I have a huge dislike for Times Square. The lights and billboards are cool. The theatres a NY staple. But it seems to me the congestion is completely uncalled for. Maybe it is because the majority of my visits to the city have found me funneled into this area. My Dad and sister being avid Broadway fans we often ended up wandering around looking for a place to dine prior to a show. And wandering in Times Square is incredibly frustrating. It is packed with sticky smelly pushy people. You look up, you see dancing lights and billboards. You look left or right there's a sea of people or yellow cabs. To the front is the back of some stranger's head, invariably only two inches from your face. And don't even bother trying to look back. You'll be trampled.

So, it is with great pleasure, that I say I made it and entire weekend in New York City without ever seeing a Times Square billboard or light. I never made it to Broadway south of 178th street. I successfully avoided the entire area for the first trip ever. Which is why this was my favorite trip to NYC ever! In exploring other neighborhoods I began to see some of the city's charm. I could almost visualize buying a little street side SoHo flower shop, with a snazzy apartment around the corner. I could drool over the town homes on the 'loveliest street' in the city...even being home to one of the most haunted residences, the tree-lined avenue had a specific je ne sais quoi.

Friday we lazed around the apartment for a while recuperating from the drive and the furniture hall. By the time we got dolled up and made the 30 minute subway trek it was almost 9pm. We dined at SoHo Park. And by dined I mean had some pretty good grub of burgers and finger-licking fries. The atmosphere was super cute with the indoors decorated with trees, twinkle lights and park "bench" tables. We opted to sit at a sidewalk table which was quite lovely as well. I ordered a Sixpoint “Sweet Action” cream ale which has the coolest name ever, but was sorely lacking on flavor.

Next we headed across the street to the Delicatessen. The atmosphere upstairs was pretty lacking, but after some miscommunication with the hostess we were able to order drinks and take them downstairs. Downstairs was cool. There was a loungy area at the base of the stairway with padded benches along the three walls. And the ceiling was glass! It was a rare area of NY with nothing in the space above it, so you could look up and out of the ceiling and see the buildings surrounding you. Plus there was a super cool prohibition style room. Behind two black curtains the tiny room had about three tables and a small bar. No windows, no doors, and the walls were lined with empty apothecary type bottles which was a neat effect. Drinks were expensive, about $45 a round and the bathrooms were like airplane ones, but smelled horribly.

So after two rounds we headed down the street to an Aussie pub! I love Aussies! And pubs! Bridge had described it as a authentic 'bush pub' (which I understood having been to a pub or two in the Australian outback). It ended up having a bit more of a normal bar feel, with club music playing. We ran into this dude who was schmoozing the patrons. I wouldn't have even recognized him, but Mike did. I kinda wanted to ask if he was for real, or just taking advantage of being a look-a-like. But then a big guy dressed all in black hustled him out of the bar. So I figured he was probably legit. Or has enough moolah to hire a fake bodyguard just for shits and giggles and, as a result, is kind of pathetic. I'm gonna say he was authentic and my first NYC celeb siting! Even though celeb is kind of pushing it, I had to look up his name, and I have already forgotten it.

All in all, great night! Our adventures kept us out until 2am at which point Andrew got the giggles, fell to the sidewalk in a fit of hysteria, bringing Mike along with him, while Bridget frantically snapped pictures and I berated them for getting city grub all over themselves. I don't even remember what was so funny...

We hopped in a cab. "207th street please.

"270th street?"
"No, 207th street."
"270th?"
"No. Two-ZERO-seven."Great our cabby doesn't speak English. Seriously, never get in a cab with me. I always get the driver who doesn't know where he's going or what's going on. Asks me for directions in a foreign country, gets mad, kicks me out...it's never an easy process.

It's a Skink!

WARNING: Not for the faint of heart. Do NOT click on the links if you are squeamish about crawling creatures. Your skin will tickle and you will have nightmares. Don't say I didn't warn you.

So I have been told it is not a good idea to advertise slimy creature problems. But, I am beginning to believe my backyard is a refuge for all things yucky. When I first moved in I found a few wood spiders in the house, and watched one wiggle its way under my kitchen door. The largest I came across looked a bit like this. Except it was dead. In the bottom of my dishwasher. Tongs a wad of paper towels and some serious sterilization took place following that ordeal. I like to think I am somewhat of a big girl when it comes to critters. But this house has been seriously testing that theory. I think it's the woods. And the farms. What was I thinking moving back to farm land? Recently, I have had two baby brown toads, and one lard ass green frog stuck to my back door on three different occasions. I did yard work and now have the worst case of poison ivy known to man kind. I stepped on a nasty black lizard while assembling patio furniture, and (I am rather ashamed to admit this, but) I emitted the girliest shriek of my life when it came scrambling back out from under the table's box. I may have even jumped onto the picnic table when he darted at me. Although this can be neither confirmed nor denied. The next day I saw its spawn scrambling over the wall of my flower bed. And today I came across another of the suckers that looked a little something like this chilling in my lawn chair. It had an electric blue tail and while it sent my heart to palpating, I did dart inside to find my camera hoping to get a mug shot. I found the little creature again hiding behind a stack of firewood, but before I could focus and snap he skirted up the house and under the siding. No amount of kicking or banging could make him reappear. Or maybe it's a her. We'll find out in a short while, because as I have learned females will keep their blue tails while males turn all red and ugly. I did a little googlizing and it turns out my lizard friends are skinks. They are the second largest lizard family, following the gecko, and they are carnivorous. Which doesn't bode well for me. I got the heebie jeebies just reading about them. So, little skink family, I can share my lawn and patio furniture with you. Just please try to be courteous and stop skittering across my path or I will have a heart attack. And if you find a way through the siding and into my house, you are donezo.

The Itch

Not the figurative, but the literal variety.

I hate being itchy. It is such a nasty word and feeling. It is the worst feeling in the world. Give me pain any day. Pain I can handle. I can tolerate it. There are scientifically developed scales to indicate just how much pain you feel. There are drugs to dull it. Not that I use them. I am decidedly anti-drug. Just say no and all that jazz. There are no "itchiness" scales.

I did some yard work a week ago. Yard work I am not supposed to be responsible for. Our land lord claimed he takes care of the yard, but there were weeds taller than I am, with stalks at thick as my wrist. There was dead debris everywhere. And being the good tenant that I am (and more so not wanting the yard to look trashy for our party over the weekend), I spent a few hours filling three industrial size garbage bags full of foliage. Two days later I had three suspicious looking bumps on my right forearm. They itched incessantly, but I grinned and beared it. Now, a week later, the three bumps have doubled in size and number. They have "spread" to at least eight other areas and my arms, legs, and side itch like crazy.

I had the chicken pox when I was younger. I still remember those pesty bumps. I was horrible at not scratching, and to this day I have the scars to prove it. Now they have vaccines for those gruesome diseases. Kids today don't have to deal with mumps or measles or pox. They get merciful itch-free childhoods...the little bastards.

And even with all my practice I am horrible at withstanding the itch. I'd rather stick 20 needles in my arm. Stub my toe 10 times. Have heartburn for hours. Give birth twice. And deal with almost any sort of cramp or pain, rather than bear the non stop burning fire that are these red bumps. On second thought, maybe not the birth thing. Everyone says you forget the pain after seeing the product. But having witnessed birth (which I have) and knowing about the process (I know more than you'd care to) I'm not really sure it's such a good idea. So maybe I'll withhold judgment on that one for now. The point being the itching is driving me crazy. Over the counter remedies are not working. And when I finally broke down and asked a doctor about it the response was 'wait it out.' This is why I can't stand doctors. The never feel the same urgency you do. Prescribe me something. Amputate. Do some witch voo-doo thingamajig. I don't care. Just fix my problem!

Police

Two weeks ago there was a knock at my door. This was unusual, but expected, as our sound technician was due any minute to finish setting up the surround sound (one of our coolest wedding gifts!). Except when I got to the door there wasn't anyone there. Strange. The sound guy knows to use the back door. So I walked to the front of the house, opened the door, and found the police. I knew it was the police not by his uniform, he was in plainclothes, but by the very official looking, and quite daunting shiny badge and photo ID he waved in my face. "Hello, Ma'am I am so-and-so from the department of such-and-such," he said. I have no idea what department it was, like I said...shiny badge...police on the doorstep...daunting. All sensible thought and survival skills flew out the window as my mind scrambled to figure out what I had done. Or what my husband had done. That's right, I have a husband now. Maybe they're after him. Whew. I'm safe. What's that? Oh, he's looking for a Mr. D.B. I don't know a Mr. D.B.

"Uh...um...I'm sorry, sir. I don't know who that is."

"Well, this is [insert my address here], isn't it?" Oh crap. He knows where I live.

"Yes." But wait...!!
"There are three different tenants on this property." Maybe he's looking for one of them. Except "I know the people downstairs and they aren't D.B. There is another guy though. He comes and goes a lot and often isn't around. I've never met him. My, um, uhhh, my husband has, but he is out of town." Great I just stuttered over husband. It's a new term, but that sounded fishy. Especially since he's conveniently out of town. Oh good he's leaving, he bought it. Err, not that there was anything to buy. That was the truth. Just cause the police are questioning you, doesn't mean you did anything wrong. Must remember that in the future.

So the po po heads around back to scope things out. And runs into the sound guy. He questions him: "Are you D.B?"

"Uh, no. I'm going to see my, um, sister-in-law." Nice. We both stuttered over the new terms. We are super convincing and smooth. I half expected him to return with accusations of harboring this D.B dude. So far, police free for 15 days and counting....

Mess

My house is in complete disarray. It has been this way for awhile now. First, it was post move in March. And with all the simultaneous wedding planning, unpacking took a back seat. Then, when things were just about in order, wedding presents in large, unnecessary packing started to arrive. So even more boxes and bubble wrap cluttered the floors, in addition to appliances that had yet to find a home. Once that was somewhat organized actual wedding decor was lying around, as I rushed to finish last minute projects. People came to stay the weekend and brought their stuff with them. There were flowers for bouquets. And dresses for the ceremony. And once they all left there was leftover alcohol galore! More wedding gifts! Cards and half written thank you notes. Half unpacked honeymoon suitcases. A kitchen with even more appliances to stash. And a husband who is slowly moving his stuff in. All in all, none of this is bad. And we are very appreciative of all the gifts. But it needs to go away. The clutter is driving me mad!! I'm usually okay with a little bit of a mess. But I tend to reach a point where I'm fed up and it must be cleaned. I reached that point about a month ago. And the mess has continued to grow every day since.

4 Days!

Holy crap. I'm getting married in four days!! How ridiculous is that? Thirteen months ago I wasn't engaged. Twenty-three months ago I had never even met this guy. And now, in four days, we are getting married! I've got the dress. We just met with our DJ. Flowers are being delivered tomorrow (they are a DIY project--I'll let you know how that turns out). Everything big is in place. But my house is a train wreck and my seating chart has been shot to hell by family members backing out at the last minute. What's up with that? Still a lot to do and a narrowing window of time to do it. So, I'll catch ya on the flip side, once I'm a 'Mrs.'

Going out Golfing

Since the engagement my Dad has been wanting to host a wedding golf tournament. It's what he does and he thought it only appropriate to have golf involved in this time of celebration. And Saturday it is finally happening! It's a little more of a golf outing, or even small group event, than tournament, but we get to play at Queenstown, go out for dinner afterward, and there's been talk of a 'golf goodie bag.' Yeah! Today I got an email from him. "Well, this might seriously ruin the Emily & Michael golf outing," he said. And then he posted this link. http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/05/18/tick-tock-goes-the-doomsday-clock/?hpt=C2
Funny, in the wedding planning craziness, I somehow missed this story. I had no idea! All I have to say is, if I spent the last 12 months scheming and planning and spending obscene amounts of time, energy and money to plan the best wedding ever, and the world ends before I get to enjoy it...then God's gonna have one PO'd bride on his hands.

I went to Wendy's yesterday. I am trying to be good, but running errands went longer than anticipated, I was hungry and I knew with the amount of work waiting back at the house I wouldn't take time to make an appropriate lunch. I got suckered in. Plus, I was recently introduced to their spicy chicken sandwich, and it was calling my name. I had the best of intentions. One chicken sandwich, one bottle of water, no fries...not too bad of a compromise, right? Then I got to the menu. One chicken sandwich: $4.69. One chicken sandwich value meal $6.29. A measly $1.60 difference. It would almost cost me more to NOT get fries. So, what did I do? I got the fries. Maybe it was the bargain hunter in me, but most likely it was just an excuse to order more than I had planned. That's what is wrong with today's society. Fast food is more expensive than healthy food. The drive through windows call you. And then words like "super-sized" and "value" meal sucker you into ordering more food than you wanted, more food than you needed, and definitely more calories than could possibly be good for you. And you don't even get out of your car to do it. No trek across the parking lot, no exertion at all, basically, no movement to help burn even a fraction of the calories.

Update

I don't have time to blog anymore. I know you miss me. I'll try to come back sometime in the next century. Thanks for reading...That's all folks!

The other night I drove a stick shift! On the highway! Three different men in two different vehicles have attempted to teach me to drive a manual. And so far I have driven on the highway a grand total of once. I am the worst ever at working a clutch. I have been 'learning' for years now, but my feet and my mind fail to work together.

Dudes have this hand motion they use to teach driving stick, where they explain how you have to give a little on the gas (while pressing their right hands toward the ground) while letting go a little on the clutch (here their left hands pop up). It must make sense to them because all three have said the exact same thing with the exact same gesture. Problem is they are wrong. Or not wrong, but just simplifying things a bit too much. My mind doesn't work like this. If it was as easy as giving a little and going a little I would have mastered this nonsense years ago. But, alas, it is not quite so equally proportionate, and finding that magic balance continues to elude me.

In theory I know how to drive a stick. In my head, I can do it confidently. But behind the wheel (especially if there is another car behind me) I can't get my feet to do what my mind tells them. It is quite frustrating. I am a rather quick learner when it comes to all other things. Granted, it's not like I have been practicing frequently for all these years. Until recently, I could count on one hand (probably about half a hand) the number of times I had been behind the wheel of a manual transmission. But, I have have decided this is the year. This is the year I am going to learn. Or maybe I should say master. I am reasonably confident that, in the case of an emergency, I could get from point A to point B without injuring anybody. I am not equally confident that I wouldn't injure any cars. Sneak up behind me too close, on the slightest incline and I just may roll back into you. Or else get so freaked thinking about rolling into you, that I instead overcompensate and go squealing through the intersection at high speeds, burning rubber in the process. Don't laugh. It's happened.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Michael! Today is the fiance's birthday. He is a quarter of a century old. To celebrate we had a weekend of "kids again" entertainment. Friday night we went to the circus! Where a two year old proceeded to whack me in the back of the head with her light up toy multiple times. Still, I enjoyed the trapeze and high wire acts. They were just as cool as I remembered from years ago. Then Saturday we had people over for food and drinks before heading to Cosmic bowling! I'm not gonna lie, it was a cool experience. It was fun to relax, have a bit of a lazy weekend, and throw in a few activities from childhood.

Nashville, Part 2

The Grand Ole Opry. It really was a grand event. First off, let me just say, you think it would be easy to find a destination that had 'grand' in the title. This was not the case. We followed are GPS which wanted us to make a turn into a huge Gaylord Resort complex. Of course, I didn't turn. GPSs are always so wrong. So two or three U-turns later, I made the turn like the GPS said. We proceeded to drive onto the resort campus and saw signs for the Opry; but there were no arrows, no directions, no indication of where to head to find it. Finally, I made a random turn, trying to find a place to ask directions, we rounded a corner, and there it was!

I knew the Opry was a concert hall of sorts. I knew most famous country singers have played there at some point. But i was not fully aware of the history. The Opry actually has 'shows' three nights a week that are broadcast live on the radio. And these shows have sponsors. The sponsors get air time for 'commercials.' The cool part is the broadcast hasn't changed. So the commercials are the announcer reading the script, which means the audience hears them as well. We saw some old timers, a few country music hall of famers, and a couple of today's country radio stars. It was a really neat experience.

Our last full day in Nashville was cloudy with rain. We had already explored pretty much all of downtown, so we started the day in the suburbs. We hit up the Frothy Monkey for breakfast, checked out the worlds only full scale Parthenon replica (why it's in Nashville, we never fully determined) and saw the largest indoor statue in the western hemisphere (which was a frightening replica of Athena). Then we drove to George Dickel's Whisky distillery. Touring the distillery made me realize how gross whiskey is. The beginning fermenting phase smells like yeasty bread batter. Then corn, rye and barley are added. It's distilled and pouring over 'virgin wool blankets.' Then placed in wood barrels and left to improve for 7-10 years. And somehow it comes out tasting good. One cool fact is the barrels are filled with 57 gallons, but after aging they generally only retrieve 36 gallons of whiskey. That's a lot of whiskey evaporating, and they can't account for where it goes. It is one reason why alcohol is called 'spirits.' We purchased a bottle at the end of the tour, which they sold in a commemorative decorative tube. The distillery is in a dry county so by placing the alcohol in the tube they have found a loophole which allows them to sell it.

We rounded off the trip by bar hopping down the row of Honky Tonks. Nashville is a great city for live music. Pretty much every bar and restaurant has someone playing live. Of course, you have to like country music. Luckily, we do!

Invitations

Invitations were sent!!! TWO whole days before my deadline. Which is sooo unlike me. Thanks to the pushers who made me get my butt in gear and stop procrastinating. And who helped complete the project. Otherwise I'd have a huge task still ahead of me.

Nashville

Last Monday I was kidnapped. I was awoken from my warm and cozy bed at 4:45 (AM!) and told to gather my loot and get packing. I was placed in a car (luckily my own, with warm and cozy butt warmers). Drove 11 hours through snow (!) and rain. And wound up in Nashville, Tennessee. Music City!

Actually, I was previously told to block off four days for an undisclosed 'Mystery Thing.' I was then taunted for months wondering what we could possibly be doing. My questions went unanswered. Luckily, my sister was the Mystery Master and, for some reason, I trust her, and knew whatever she had planned would be good. Weeks later everyone knew what we were doing except me! She finally filled me in Sunday night just before bed.

The 11 hour drive on Monday actually wasn't bad. Bridget drove the whole way so I slept a bit, read a bit, sang a bit. And we made an excessive 5 pit stops. But still pulled into the hotel in just under 11 hours! We putzed around awhile browsing the tourist brochures (I love being touristy!) then headed out for some grub. We stumbled upon a honky tonk with live music called the Whiskey Bent Saloon. So we wandered inside and ordered some whiskey. The singer, Taria (like Maria, but with a T) was actually really enjoyable. Problem was they didn't have food. So we wandered next door to Jimmy Buffetville and ordered, what else, margaritas. They were strong. Whiskey and tequilla on an empty stomach. This night is starting well. After dinner found us back at the saloon for the rest of Taria's set. My favorite song she sang, somewhat ironically, was a Guns 'N Roses cover. I also enjoyed a guest performance of Black Velvet from chickadee from across The Pond.

Tuesday brought the Country Music Hall of Fame and lots of wandering around downtown. We found a cute cupcake shop, an arcade (not the gaming variety) that reminded us of Australia, an old war fort and not much else. Downtown Nashville is actually quite small. We walked most of it in one afternoon. Somehow, though, we managed to get behind schedule, which meant we were off to the Grand Old Opry without dinner. The Opry was awesome! I want to talk a bunch about it, so stay tuned for a continuation!

Good Things

I woke up this morning and didn't have to go to work! We are slightly over staffed this week and they have been allowing us to ATO. I'm not sure what that stands for, but it basically means if they have too many staff for the unit, no other unit needs extra help, and they are feeling incredibly generous, they will let you stay home. Granted you have to use a vacation day. Oh, and it goes by dates so if you've ATO'd in the not so distant future, and someone else ATO'd in the distant distant future, they get to go first. It can be difficult. This is the first day I have accomplished it. So I was sure the 5:20am phone call would be telling me to get my butt to work. Which made going back to sleep for 3 hours that much sweeter. To top it off I've gotten a bunch of things on my never-ending 'To Do' list done today. Have I told you all how much I love crossing things off lists? So much so that occasionally I'll write an already completed, or just about completed, task on my list. Just so I can cross it off. Now for the icing on the cake. While running around town completing errands...I wore flip flops!! I love flip flops and today was the first day of the year I got to wear them. And it made me happy. April, please stay warm and sunny. It will be a nice change from your cool and rainy reputation.

On top of the little things:
1. Today is 2 months from W-day!
2. Last week I was in Nashville! Which I will most definitely blog about in the near future.

I haven't posted a lot recently. Partly because I moved and didn't have internet at the new place for two weeks. Partly because I've been busy unpacking and kicking my butt into gear on the wedding front. Partly because I got used to not having cable and internet and have sorta forgotten about them now that they are available again. But mostly because I just haven't had the words. Or the motivation. Writing is a struggle for me. I compose well in my head, but as soon as my fingers hit the key board my crafty sentences fly out the window. Being witty is hard work. Entertaining you is hard work. And I do aim to entertain. Every one of you six followers out there. I wouldn't want to bore you with trivial everyday conundrums. But, once again, I will attempt to rally. With a few spring days sneaking in I feel the overall look of the blog was bleak. So, here is the new improved, ready for spring, and (hopefully) once again regular blog.

jigzone.com

A few months ago I was shown this really cool website. It has online jigsaw puzzles. I know...puzzles are for losers...but for you losers out in cyberspace there is now a way to be a loser in a modern way. I have to say it has become one of my go-to sites when I need a few minutes of downtime at the computer. Growing up I was a strict edges first kinda gal. The theory being you couldn't possible assemble a picture if you didn't have the frame to give you a general idea of the layout. With online puzzles this has gotten scrapped. Today I assembled a squirrel, before the greenery behind him, a beach chair before I had the beach and the ocean, and a flower pot, before any of the landscaping. The theory here being it's easier to match colors on a computer screen then figure out shapes that "lock" together. Call me a dork, but I have gotten quite good. Today two of my times were a good five minutes below the average. I particularly like the 70 pieces "bulb" shaped puzzles. They're the only ones I play and add a unique twist to an old school game. Try it out if you've got a second...don't dis it until you have.

Sad Day

Today was my friend Clarissa's last day at work. Not cool. She has quit her job and planned an eight month trip around the world. Very cool. I have major world traveler envy.

Companies that have me using four letter words...

Moving into the new place I was super excited to be getting Verizon Fios! I have had comcast in two out of the last three apartments, and have had countless missed appointments, interruptions in service, ridiculous price increases and really icky customer service. Verizon was going to be my way out! Until they called the night before the appointment and cancelled. With some lame excuse about need to install more cables outside before being able to ensure uninteruppted service. At least this is what the voicemail said. When I called back there was no record in the computer and my service appointment was still scheduled. A half hour later, it was finally verified that the voicemail dude was correct, and my appointment had to be rescheduled for a week and half later so the work could be done. It is now two weeks without cable or internet! So they better get their butts here bright and early Monday morning. I have a Bachelor finale to watch. ;)

Another change I made (or thought I had) was transferring a prescription from Giant Pharmacies to CVS. The Giant near me in DC was so incompetent it turned me off of the entire chain. And it continued to be incompetent last night when I went to CVS for the prescription, found out they had followed in their competetors footstops and failed to fill it or call to inform me of this, and couldn't get anyone to answer the phone to get my prescription number. Which subsequently led to an hour of phone calls and a mad dash to Crofton's Giant Pharmacy, where the very competent pharmacist and sales clerk were waiting, five minutes after closing, with my prescription.

Snickers and Reeses have been two of my favs recently. So, Snickers with peanut butter? Genius. Except it was completely disappointing. Don't waste your calories. Or your pocket change.

Randomness

I’ve moved! A lot has happened in the last few days. I have started multiple blogs in my head, but haven’t had the chance to post anything. So I’ve decided to take a few moments and post some blurbs. I apologize for the complete randomness.

• Old Apartment vs. New House

1. Starbucks vs. Dunkin Donuts

o Tie. Although iced coffee weather is coming as well and DD has the best iced caramel latte.

2. Comcast vs. Verizon
o The best customer service and easiest experience I had with Comcast was disconnecting my service. Ironic. Hopefully, Verizon will prove better. Starting with being on time for the service appointment on Thursday.
3.Gas oven vs. Electric oven
o The old place wins on this one. My last two apartments have had gas ovens and while it took awhile to get acclimated to them (and I never used them all that frequently) I grew to love the way they baked and the instant stove top heat. The electric ovens with newfangled glass cook tops fall short.
4. Two rooms vs. Seven rooms
o My entire apartment would fit in just the kitchen and dining room of the new place. With the possibility of space left over. I’m not sure how to decorate or fill all the new space, and I don’t know that we really need three bedrooms, but it is nice to be in such a spacious and bright place!
5. Middle of the city vs. Middle of the burbs
o The old place was in the middle of DC with restaurants and shopping within walking distance. The new place is in Gambrills, MD with farmland within walking distance. Winner remains to be seen.
6. Centipedes vs. Stink bugs
o Both are gross. I've gotten to the point of scooping the stink bugs up and throwing them outside. The centipedes and I never progressed past smashing them with the closest shoe.

• Internet: I miss cable and internet. Comcast service stopped at the old apartment on Friday evening and Verizon service won’t be set up here until Thursday morning. That’s almost a week of downtime! What did we ever do without the internet? So far I have stolen WiFi from Dunkin Donuts and attempted to hack into our neighbors wireless. The first was extremely successful. The signal was very strong in the parking lot. The second was almost successful. I managed to successfully guess their password and was rewarded with ‘limited connectivity.’ Unfortunately, they have some other security walls or wireless protection or something or other that I wasn’t techie enough to figure out. So if my internet activity is diminished this week…this be why.
  
• Coffee and Such: I moved in and realized I have no idea where the closest Starbucks is!! I know that I have banned myself from going there, but there is still a sense of security in knowing there are multiple locations within walking distance should I need a fix. The closest location here is almost ten minutes by car! There is, however, a Dunkin Donuts about a mile down the road. This is the closest I have ever lived to a DD! I have frequented it twice. Then I remembered today was to be the start of my new eating healthier routine. So, we will just pretend that doughnut this morning didn’t happen.
• Sunroof and Seat warmer Weather: Spring is a coming! It’s not here yet. And I know there will be more horrible weather to come (today’s rain being just a sneak peak), but there have been periods recently where the weather has been just about perfect. Sunny skies and good T-shirt and jeans temperatures. The perfect weather to pop open the sunroof and turn on the seat warmer. Just the right amount of sun, wind and warmth.

I'm off to drive around in the sun!