A conversation I had with my Illinois friend, Nicole, who was recently married ...
Nicole: Hey, it sounds like Amy and Sal are looking at rings. Isn't that exciting?
Me: Oh yay for them! I'm so happy for her.
Nicole: Yeah, me too. Sounds like there could be another wedding in the future. This time, you and I can travel to the wedding.
Me: Sounds like fun ... yeah, and just so you know, don't be holdin' your breath for me to start looking for rings. I'm pretty sure the world will stop spinning on its axis if rings ever become an issue here.
Nicole: You are so silly.
Me: You think I'm joking? It seriously will spin right off of its axis. I'm relatively sure!
I love to go for rides. I love looking at the houses and scenery I see along the way.
Because my mind wanders. You see, I want to know the story behind the windows and doors of the houses I see. I want to know the stories nestled in the green pastures and the rocky cliffs. I want to know what's taken place before I walked the Earth at that particular spot. What stories do the blades of grass whisper to the wind?
There's always a story!
Does that make me a voyeur? Probably, but I think any writer worth their salt is a voyeur. We all want to know the inner-workings of a plot. It helps us better craft the novel(s) playing in our heads non-stop!
So Erin made the mistake of coming in to my room today and telling me that she has started lactating ... my translation? Her "boobs have started leaking!"
Besides the fact that no single girl should be told such things if she is any where near the idea of procreation ... meaning if I were, say, here, in continent of North America, and procreation was, say, orbiting around the moon! No one really wants to know that you suddenly and spontaneously spring leaks the closer you get to your due date.
However, beyond the TOO MUCH INFORMATION factor, this is just fodder for me, as a supportive friend, to run a muck, and Lord knows, I love to run a muck!
So, when I mentioned to Erin that when she stands in her doorway, and I walk down the hallway, all I can see is two breasts and a belly sticking out past the lockers and she threatened to "squirt" me with one of her wayward milking units, I took that as a challenge.
I hope she won't be the least bit surprised or offended, if, one day, I come to school covered in bull's eyes. I mean, she might as well get some target practice in now! She's only got about a month and a half left to hone those skills.
So, I bought a new pair of denim Capri's that I summarily wore on Sunday to church and then again Monday to work. They are so comfortable and so cute. I just love them, and I only spent $20 on them. Yay for me!
So, shoot me with the fashion bazooka because I stuck them BACK ON again today, because they are sooooo comfy, and I sooooooo need comfy today!
I'm bloated ... don't go there with me! I mean, no one is paying THAT much attention to me. Really!
Yesterday, one of my male students noticed, for the first time, that one of my female students was now wearing a training bra. This, of course, caused him to snicker and point and make sure all of his male buddies knew of the training bra. As one would expect, it absolutely mortified my female student. Needless to say, the whole episode ended with me yelling, "ALL GIRLS WEAR THEM. THIS IS NOT BRAND NEW NEWS YOU'RE SPREADING SO JUST COOL IT!"
Amazingly, he did!
Why are bras such a fascination with men? Personally, I've always found them to be an utter inconvenience. That was until this past weekend. I FINALLY got a a professional bra sizing, and let me just tell you, while I am that much closer to matching Dolly Parton's size, at least I can finally say, I am wearing something that fits me. In fact, it actually makes me look smaller, if you can believe that!
Case in point, yesterday, one of my fellow teachers said to me, "I've been meaning to tell you that you look great! You've lost tons of weight and just look fantastic!"
I thanked her, but what I really wanted to say was, "Thanks, but it's actually just a new bra ... that fits!"
Today, we, here in Central Kentucky, experienced a little earthquake. Couldn't prove it by me! I was awake, but didn't hear or feel a thing. It was Pre-Coffee time.
Now, this little Earth crust situation might have influenced the following incident, ever so much. Here's how it all went down:
"Eddie* and Cammie* sit next to each other. Cammie is a big kid ... I mean REALLY big. She's bigger than me, and I'm overweight right now. She hauled off with the most powerful sneeze I've heard from another human, which, unfortunately, jet propelled her butt at the same time. Eddie, who didn't realize she'd had both ends going, turned to her with this shocked expression on his face, and said, "HEY! I FELT THAT!! WHEN YOU JUST SNEEZED? I FELT THE EARTH MOVE!"
It was all I could do to keep from rolling right off my stool and puddling into a messy pool of hysterical laughter!
It looks smashing! I'd show you a photo of it, but it seems I've misplaced my software disc that allows my digital camera to be compatible with my computer. Seriously! What is my problem?
[Don't answer that, Mom.] Anyway ... to all of my family ... and that would specifically be you, Ann, and you, Mom, I am officially requesting some Christmas presents. Namely, I would like the items pictured above ... the bath rug, the wastebasket, the Kleenex caddy deal, and the shower curtain hooks. You could have me taken care of before July even hits, Ann! Think about it!
I read an article recently that the key to being really happy is to celebrate the little things in life. I truly believe this. However, I often times, let the stupid, seemingly bigger things, "pee on my parade."
Today, as I was running to get coffee, I decided to celebrate! Rather than get all "sour puss" on myself for completely forgetting to make coffee this morning, I was going to find something to celebrate. As I was walking out of the convenience store, I felt a bounce in my step as I thought to myself, "I celebrate the greatest smell in the world, freshly brewed coffee! Man! This is fun, and they're right! I am so happy!"
Then I promptly tripped on the sidewalk and spilled hot coffee all over my hand!
Sitting in my bathroom one morning (I'll spare you any more details regarding sitting in my bathroom), and it occurred to me that the plain, cream shower curtain I have currently was making the room drab and boring. I needed some punch in there, and so the search began for a shower curtain that would provide me a certain amount of punch. I want the shower curtain I've pictured above!! I found it at Kohl's, and it was love at first sight. I'm so serious! I had it in my hand, ready to toss it into my cart, when a little voice whispered ever so softly, "Better check out the price."
Good thing I did, because I could very well have had a poor spell at the cash register. The shower curtain is $59.99!!! Ummmm .... I'm sorry. Is it woven in golden thread? Cuz that's the only reason I could think for the INSANELY, RIDICULOUS price!
According to the website, it's on sale for $35.99. Hmmm ... I might have to make a sojourn out to Kohl's with my extra coupon.
I'm also madly in love with the bath rug and other bath accessories ... doesn't it just scream me!?!?!?!?
There was cake!!! We had a shower at school for one of the PREGNANT ONES, and cake was served!!!!
I've never been so excited about cakethan I was today. I mean, jumping up and down excited.
That's never a good sign! It means I'm stressed. I'm a stress eater. You can tell this by looking at my butt ... my thighs ... my hips ... my arms ... pretty much any where on my body. I'd been doing really well, and then WRITING PORTFOLIOS hit, and now I feel like I am eating anything that isn't nailed down. It's sick!
I've consumed more sweet, sugary substances than is healthy for one person, and now I wished there was a way to jump rope it off ... REALLY QUICKLY! Sadly, there's not. I just have to deal with the massive amounts of empty calories I managed to pack on today, and hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
I discovered something very interesting on my way home from work today. It has me wondering ... pondering ... frankly, it has me puzzled.
As I was sitting at another endless stop light, I noticed two men sitting in a work van right behind me. We all sat at this intersection, waiting for the light to change, for what seemed like a hundred years. Not once, not in all that time, did those two guys ever once say a word to each other ... not once. E.V.E.R.
Carrie and I just spent an entire weekend together, and I don't recall one time when we WEREN'Ttalking while we were in the car, and we were in the car a lot!
This is not the first time I've observed this among mobile men. You can stuff a whole wad of them into a vehicle, and they will not have uttered six words among them the length of their trip. What do they do in the car when it is silent? I don't get it.
We are all sales and co-workers and stupid drivers and spouses and significant others and dinner the other night and kids and clothes and weight and hair and wrinkles and shoes and ... perhaps we stop to take a breath every quarter hour.
How can you possibly ever attempt to solve world peace if you don't TALK while you are in the car?
Sunday, I took Carrie to Keeneland, and I drug Erin out with us as well. Joe was "scouting" -- turkey hunting season is just around the corner, don't you know.
We got all gussied up in our best HORSE RACING outfits, and we hit the race track with money to burn. Granted, I didn't have the first clue what I was doing ... neither did Carrie. Erin did her best to school us in proper horse racing betting, and, after the quick tutorial, we all marched up to the betting windows and placed our bets. "I would like $2 across the board, #3 to win."
Don't I sound legit?
I was ... sort of!
The first race, I won $7, and I was completely excited. However, by the second race, I'd lost it. The third and fourth races, I was a poor sport and refused to bet. But, for our final race, I did put some money down, and won $3.40. It was just enough to cover the tip for dinner.
Carrie figures we spent enough money to put new shoes on one of the horses. So, I guess it all worked out.
It was a gorgeous spring day, and we were looking mighty fine.
I, of course, forgot my camera to capture "Megan's First Horse Wager ... a Step Toward Gamblers Anonymous." But Erin subscribes to the Boy Scout motto, "Always be prepared," and she had her camera in her purse. She got a photo of me at the window. So, whenever she sends it to me, I will be sure to post it. I know you will all want to see that momentous occasion.
Carrie and I painted the town red on Saturday. Okay, well, maybe a nice, deep pink hue.
We started out at the Kentucky History Center, attempting to broaden our horizons with historical tidbits from my new fair state. However, we ended in the hall of governors, where we irreverently tried to categorize each governor based on their portraits. The game went something like this:
Carrie, pointing to one portrait: "He's gay." Me, pointing to another: "He's a cigar-smokin', card-carryin' womanizer." Carrie: "He was a stinker in fourth grade." Me: "He was handsome." Carrie: "Wimp." Me: "Cross-dresser." Carrie: "He loved his wife." And so on ... it's a fun game. You should try it!
We then headed over to the Old State Capitol, where I proceeded to insult our tour guide by insinuating she wasn't old enough to drive, let alone lead a tour through the capitol. Oops! The best part for me, however, was when Carrie's cell phone rang during out 12-year old tour guide's presentation. When she thought she was hitting mute, Carrie actually answered the phone, and her friend ended up shouting through the phone, "HELLO!? HELLO!?" Did you know that a cell phone can really reverberate through the senate chambers? Classic!
A leisurely lunch was had and then we headed to the new state capitol which was either closed OR I just didn't have enough strength to push the doors open. I was bummed that Carrie wouldn't see how beautiful it was on the inside, but I felt the bourbon balls at Woodford Reserve would be just the salve for my disappointment.
We got there as the last tour was ending, but as Carrie said, "we were able to do the important stuff ... taste the bourbon and eat the bourbon balls!"
Can I have an AMEN?
Now, it must be said that bourbon is ... well, it's not good. In fact, we've decided that unless it is somehow mixed with chocolate, it's really not very good at all. I am pretty sure I had a "MEET JESUS MOMENT" as the fire water burned my nostrils and continued to burn a hole through several layers of my digestive tract, all the way down to my big toes! From there, I felt the unmitigated desire to jump on top of a table and begin wailing the first verse and chorus to "I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW, THE RAIN IS GONE." That quickly faded away to a warm, fuzzy feeling that lasted through me buzzing through a varied amount of curvy, paved mule trails along rural Woodford and Franklin Counties.
Carrie and I really were not aware of the strength of the bourbon in the Bourbon-Soaked Praline Pecans that she picked up at the Woodford Reserve gift shop. We feel fairly certain that this is because our taste buds were drunk.
We did make one very good decision, and that was that we would use those pecans on the homemade brownies I made. Later that evening, we topped fresh-out-of-the-oven brownies with ice cream, chocolate syrup, and more than a handful each of those Bourbon-Soaked Praline Pecans. Talk about a work of art! I am a culinary genius!
It was only after we were both half-way through our brownies that we realized these were not your everyday pecans. These babies were S.O.A.K.E.D. This was brought to our attention by the fact that we were giggling at random things not necessarily funny in normal human existence. Yes, I suppose a big shot of bourbon, two bourbon balls, and more bourbon-soaked pecans than one person could count might actually cause a person to be, well, shall we say ... tipsy ...
Dang it! It looks like I just might have to start converting cubits after all. We've got us a doozie of a flooding situation here. The Kentucky River is the highest I've seen it since I've moved down here almost two years ago. Some of my kids' neighborhoods were starting to flood, and out in the county, there's been wide spread flooding. Yikes! Thankfully, I live on high ground ... for the moment. I am considering retro-fitting the vehicle with floaties, however.
I just wanted to give everyone fair warning. There will be two teachers on the loose in Kentucky this weekend.
I am sooooo excited, I can hardly stand myself. My friend Carrie, fellow teacher and partner in educational crime, is winging her way to the Bluegrass State as I write this. Really, I'm like a kid at Christmas time ... ready to explode!! I've done nothing but drive everyone that I've come into contact with crazy this week, running my mouth about Carrie's arrival in town. It's my first Michigan friend that I've hosted, with the exception of Amy, who really is a Michigan friend by way of Florida. Plus, poor Amy was in such a state of DOG TIRED, I'm not sure how much Kentucky she (or I, for that matter) absorbed.
I anticipate a HUGE wad of late nights, much wine to be consumed, loads of laughs, many photos of the offspring to view (her's, not mine!), and many, many, many sites to see. Trust me, I've booked the poor girl solid.I can't wait!!!!! Photos to follow, I'm relatively sure of that ...
Hello world! I missed you! Really, I did. I need a moment ... just to bask in your wonderfulness .... aaaahhhhh!
So where have I been?
Well, now there is a story ...
My computer got sick ... with a virus ... I virus I didn't know I had ... I virus I SHOULDhave known I had since, well, I'd just resubscribed to a VIRUS DETECTING SOFTWARE SYSTEM ... ONLY IT DIDN'T DETECT IT!!!
Did I mention I just spent $50 on this so-called virus program?
Yeah, good times!
So, apparently, this virus was eating away at my system files, and one day, my computer just said, "ENOUGH ALREADY! I DON'T FEEL GOOD! I'M GOING TO GO HIDE UNDER MY GIGABYTES AND STUFF, AND DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO COME AND FIND ME!"
Now, I can sympathize, seeing as that is all I moaned the entire month of February. However, the build-up of random drivel and anecdotes in my head have caused a near brain explosion, which is never pretty and always messy ... oh, and there's this whole issue of not having my taxes done, and oh, did you know they are due in like 11 days??
Yes, I am kissing my hard drive as I type this, and I'm pretty sure I proposed marriage to the prepubescent kid that helped me carry the thing to my car. I am just that happy.
My suggestion would be to sit back, sip a latte, and settle in for what will prove to be a very lengthy set of posts this evening.
The darn photographer wouldn't get out of my way ... imagine!
As my computer was staging a coupe of monumental proportions, I was en route to a wedding in Illinois. Now, it's interesting to note how quickly one's perspective changes with regard to weather, when one spends two winters in milder climes than the place of your birth. I say this because I decided that even though everyone with a hint of something having to do with meteorology was telling me that it would be C.O.L.D. I still insisted on packing a short-sleeved dress and flirty, summer slip-ons (shoes). A question pops into my mind as well as my mother's mind at this very moment ... that question is this: WHAT IN THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING?
Clearly, I wasn't thinking.
At any rate, myself and my friend Amy traveled the 4 hours (but it seemed like 20) to Illinois to watch our teaching buddy, Nicole, marry the love of her life.
SAPPINESS WARNING: I thought Nicole was beautiful, and there was more than one moment when the old eyes misted over as I got all caught up in the romance of it all. It felt fairy tale-like, which is what every girl dreams about, I suppose.
Nicole's dress what very unique, with red accents, something that I'd never seen before. It worked for me, not that Nicole needed my approval.
I took pictures, but because TECHNOLOGY HATES me, my camera wouldn't work for me. It might some small, minute thing to do with me not changing the shooting speed ... but whatever!
Anyway, here are some photos for your viewing pleasure ...
I look up to see Erin standing in my classroom, legs spread apart, and showing me a wet spot between her legs.
It was 7:00 a.m. The coffee hadn't fully saturated my synapses. I'm not exactly sure what I was supposed to be looking at, but here was a pregnant woman, standing there, asking me to look at her ... well, her ... you know.
"Yes, I can see a wet spot."
"I sneezed, and well, this is what happened. I peed on myself."
Okay, I couldn't help it. I laughed ... out loud. I'm sorry. It was funny, and in Erin's defense, she was laughing too.
"This is what happens when you get pregnant," Erin said, sadly.
"Well," I countered. "I guess you could always look for an automatic dryer to stand in front of. Next time, I'd pack extra clothes, just in case."
I mean, come on, people. This is birth control for me! Who wants to sneeze and wet oneself? I don't!
Of course, my mother informs me that "you haven't really lived until the kid kicks your bladder, and you don't just wet yourself. You all out DRENCH yourself."
I'm sorry. How does that make pregnancy more appealing? Please explain that to me.
Or what about Carrie's little tidbit of information?
"That last month I was sick as a dog, just like the morning sickness in the beginning. This one morning, I was just about to walk through the door when it hit me ... I was going to be sick. So, I ran to the kitchen sink and proceed to throw up in it ... AND pee my pants all at the same time."
Yeah, sign me up, because that sounds like soooo much fun!
My sister Ann tagged anyone that would play along to write 10 random things about yourself. Well, come on now! I write random crap on this blog all the time. I should certainly be able to write 10 random things about myself, right?
Here goes ...
I don't have an appendix. When I was 7 years old and on vacation with the fam, I was rushed to the Cheboygan Hospital (in northern Michigan) for an emergency appendectomy. Turns out that I didn't have appendicitis, but since they were in there, they thought, "What the heck! We've got to charge these folks for something." Out came the appendix.
In high school, I pierced ears ... lots of them. I, myself, have two sets of holes in my earlobes, which I still maintain. Boys were the weeniest when it came to the pain ... figures.
In my first apartment, I was convinced someone was getting into my basement at night and sleeping down there. I always heard odd noises down there -- things being moved around, etc. It was pretty scary.
I secretly think that ROB AND BIG is a riot, even though I'm convinced that every time I watch it, I know I'm killing millions of brain cells ... cells I can never get back ... ever.
I earned over 400 demerits in second grade, and I was the QUEEN of writing sentences in Mr. Norris' fifth grade class. I do believe I am part of the reason for his premature graying. I'm pretty sure there are many more educators out there that shudder when my name is uttered out loud.
I'm relatively sure that I broke my tail bone when I was a kid ... running at full speed on a wet, sandy, wooden dock and slipping and slamming squarely on my rear. To this day, I still can't sit on hard surface for very long without my tail bone just killing me.
I was a sleep walker until sometime just before college.
I used to get lost under the covers of bed and then scream bloody murder because I couldn't find my way out!
Somewhere in my linen closet, I still have my BLANKIE, the raggedy, old blanket I slept with until it started disintegrating.
I hate mushrooms ... can't stand the taste ... can't stand the texture.