Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Surprise to the Award Winning Wife, Part I

Let me preface this blog entry by saying that I cannot keep anything from the wife. And, by that I do mean anything.


I can't lie to her. I can't hide things from her. I can't keep anything from her. She knows. She literally just looks at me and she knows everything.


(No, this photo has nothing to do with the actual blog entry but I thought Lucy's scowl fit nicely with the theme.)

So, the past few days the wife has been wondering what the HELL is wrong with me. I suppose she thought (1) I was having an affair; (2) taking illicit drugs; (3) missing my medication; or (4) all of the above. I can't help it. I have spent the entire past five days trying not to hyperventilate or throw up.

It all started many days ago when I learned the wife was going to receive a very prestigious award at work. A surprise award. I was asked to get ahold of her parents and others I thought would be interested in coming to the awards ceremony. This is AWESOME! I am excited....but then realize, this is a surprise......I know and she doesn't.

So, I get on the email and on the phone and start contacting people any way I can. Along the way, I get this hair-brained idea to have an open house after the awards ceremony. I mean, her parents are coming from out of state, her friends are really excited and I'm so proud I could burst. So, I add that to the mix.

This means I now have TWO SECRETS to harbor. If I was acting like a freak before, now I am a DOUBLE FREAK. I can't sleep. I can't think. My head spins. I cannot let her know!

There is only one way to succeed at this and this is to not speak to her. Of course, this is obvious, too and makes her worry more about what the hell is wrong with me.

In the meantime, I learn that I will be out of town the same day as the award ceremony and will fly back into town just before the ceremony. This means I cannot prepare the house for the festivities. By this, I mean put out the food, put the pop on ice, put out the tablecloth. I don't mean clean anything because everything is perfectly tidy at any given moment.

I now have complications to the complication of sneaking around. This distracts me so badly that I can barely put sentences together.

Did I mention that the wife HATES HATES HATES surprises? This is not an exaggeration--she has still not forgive me for the Surprise Superbowl Party in 1997. This complicates the complications of the complications.

I am so going to vomit.

Thank god MJagger offered to help--she'll come let the dogs out and open the doors, just in case someone gets to the house early. So, I buy a bunch of snacks, hide them in my trunk, hide pop at Cheeseball Neighbor's in the garage and drive around all day with a whipped cream cake in my trunk trying to figure out where to put it.

In the meantime, emails are flying about the country. Now, the wife has never even looked once at my email account in her whole entire life, but I, being the moron that I am, forget that I have these surprise award emails in my mailbox and tell her to sign in to check the status of her ebay payment.

Dear god, how stupid am I? There her name is, plastered all over all the emails. I quickly cover the screen with my hand (how subtle is that?) and tell her not to look. Duh! I squeek out it's a surprise for our California trip and beg her not to ask anything. She doesn't ask anything but I know this was a really stupid move.

In the meantime meantime, people are trying to call me without alerting the wife of what is going on. This is a fiasco, as you can imagine. The wife, being the wife, starts asking questions.
I have no real answers, just stupid ones that make me look like I'm psychotic, neurotic, possessed, on drugs or a complete moron.

The whipped cream cake remains in the trunk.

I pray she stops asking questions. I am scared shitless that the wife is going to be pissed off for my after-award celebrations at the house. I am scared shitless that I will slip up and say something stupid. I am scared shitless that the whipped cream cake will melt. I have a stomach ache and a headache and I am counting the hours til the award comes and goes......

I count the hours. Less than 24 hours to go. Someone get me some chocolate!

No Confessions from this Madonna Whore

I realize there has been a strange silence in the Addiverse the past several days. That is because I am UP TO NO GOOD!

I can't tell you about it or it wouldn't be being up to no good. Wait, wait, wait. Then, I shall confess my sin-filled ways.

UP. TO. NO. GOOD.

The wife is getting nervous. She asked me if something is wrong.......

......OF COURSE SOMETHING IS WRONG! I AM UP TO NO GOOD!


Until then, please note that Madonna's new album, HARD CANDY was officially released today. MJagger and I have both secured our copies, although I have yet to listen to it. You know I'm a Madonna Whore, so you know I will listen to it tonight....right after I finish being up to no good for the evening.......

tee hee hee hee hee!

Thursday, April 24, 2008

What the Beep

Yesterday, I came home for lunch and I heard a "beep."
Not a loud beep but obnoxious, just the same. I yelled hello to the dogs but only one greeted me. Hmmmm. Lucy's there, doing her "hello-happy-dance," but there is no sign of Freckles.
Beep.
Another beep. What IS that? I call for Freckles several times and she finally slinks my way, tail so far under I can't even see it. Beep.
She piddles. Literally. Almost on my foot. I'm confused and don't know what the heck is going on. I look up toward the sound and realize it's the smoke detector on the second floor, in the hallway.
Beep.
Every thirty or so seconds it beeps. Poor Freckles. If this has been going on all morning, she must be close to a heart attack. I reassure her and try to give her a treat but she wants nothing of it. I decide to take matters into my own hand and get a ladder out of the garage. I then realize that the smoke detectors in our house are "hard wired;" meaning, they are electric and not battery operated. This means playing with live wires while home alone is probably not a good idea. It's not like the dogs can call for an ambulance.
Beep.
I am not deterred and get closer to the thing. Yup, this is where the sound is coming from. I go down to the fuse box or whatever they call it and take a gander. Everything is labeled but nothing says "fire" or "smoke detectors" or whatever. I go through each circuit, one by one, turning them off but every time...I wonder who the hell ever thought to hard wire smoke detectors? Stupid!
Beep.
Nope, not that one. Not that one. Not that one. Now, I am thinking this hard wire set-up is even more stupid. I finally decide the only answer to be: call my sister as she is married to a fireman.
His advice was simple: take the cover off the beeping detector, replace it with another and then see if it beeps.
Beep.
I also called the wife and knew she would soon be home to help with this enigmatic situation. While waiting for her, I look at the circuit box and realize the only way I'll get this thing to turn off is to turn off the main breaker. All. Electricity. Off. I shrug my shoulders and throw the switch.
Beep.
The wife enters, Freckles is peeing, the beep keeps on beeping. I am fighting to get the cover off when the wife gets home. She, of course, gets the thing right off, while I was unable to get it even to budge.
Beep.
DAMN! It's still beeping, even though the wife is holding the smoke detector in her hand AND the power in the entire house is off.....

Wait a minute, how can that be? It's not connected....I yell at the wife, "PUT IT UNDER A PILLOW!" For some reason, she does it-she puts the disconnected alarm under a pillow.
Beep.
We look at each other, quite confused. The sound is still in the hallway but nothing is attached. Suddenly, it dawns on me. I look a little lower and take a gander at the carbon monoxide alarm. The display says ERROR and is blinking. I wait, wait, wait......
Beep.
It's the damned carbon monoxide alarm, not the hard wired smoke detectors...

So much for two master's degrees.

I RIPPED that puppy right off the wall and threw it right away.

P.S. Hasta la vista, Marlee and Mambo King. Can I be honest? I didn't watch this week's elimination episode of Dancing with the Stars as I knew what the outcome would be. I couldn't bear the pain.....I am sad to say my grrrrl was voted off but it had to be. I must say it is kind of stinky that Marlee was voted off during the week of the Mambo, as her partner is literally the Mambo King of the world. (TV Magpies and the wife are dancing as this means their picks for top dancer are still alive and mine is out of contention. Sigh.)

Beep.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Kicking My Sorry Butt into Oblivion

I have a new idol. She's a co-worker who's lost 100 lbs. The weight loss is not the reason she is my new idol, although that IS pretty amazing. My co-worker (whom I shall call Less-is-more) is my idol because she has been doing Jillian Michael workouts and she has lived to tell about it.

Here is photo of Jillian Michaels with her dog (or, a dog--I suppose I don't technically know it's her dog.) Jillian is the lady who beats people into shape on "The Biggest Loser." I learned that Less-is-more used the Jillian tapes to lose all that weight. I thought that was pretty spiffy and with bikini season just about here, I thought I'd give ol' Jillian a try. After all, I've been doing those walking tapes on a regular basis....what could be so hard about doing some workout tapes with the always-buff-looking Jillian? So, I went to Barnes & Nobles and purchased the beginner DVDs (front and back side). The three set also had some cardiothing, but I figured I'd focus on the front and back. I thought about going beyond the basics--I HAVE been working out, haven't I??--but some moment of sanity grasped my arm and guided me back to the beginners' DVDs.....
Here is a photo of Lucy demonstrating the kind of work out we've been doing--15 minutes of a McDonald's Yoga. Ummmm, not so much a strenuous thing.....but, I can't forget all those walking tapes! They must count for something.....

I decide tonight is the night to start with a Jillian Experience.

The Front side, not that it would have mattered.

I am here to tell you that I am in HORRIFIC shape, that I thought blood would spurt out of my eyes and that I know I will not be able to walk tomorrow. So much for all those walking tapes. It's a six circuit workout and it's not hard and it's actually easy to follow....but......

...I was a miserable wimp and was crying out ol' Less-is-more's name repeatedly.

She is my idol. When I see her at work tomorrow, I shall profess my adoration for her. I shall confess that I am a weeny and that I hope she won't KICK MY SORRY ASS from here to oblivion, as I know Less-is-more can certainly kick my ass if she can do those tapes, and I know she CAN do those tapes.....

...of course, I won't be able to profess my adoration if I can't get out of bed.....

Saturday, April 19, 2008

A Frig of Another

In response to my post (see below) about our always-empty frig, MJagger has phone-mailed me a photo of what a REAL REFRIGERATOR should look like:Yikes! This scares the wife and me.....yet, we aspire to this level of frig fullness.....

Friday, April 18, 2008

Earthquakes and Milkshakes

Here is a book. If you are tired of reading my blog, you should read this book. Of course, I hope you keep reading my blog AND read this book on the side. I find it to be a very good book and I like the way she writes. If you don't like the way I write, you probably won't like the way she writes but what do I know? Did any of you feel the earthquake today? We sure didn't. The dogs didn't even stir. People at work said they felt the rumbling but I think it was their stomachs or bowels or something. Mighty unusual for an earthquake in these parts. I hear it was at 4:39 or so AM. I went to work, arriving at 6:15 AM and asked the people at the site if they had felt the earthquake. They looked at me like I had three heads. I immediately made them turn on the TV, as to prove my sanity. Nope, none of them had felt the earthquake....

Today, while eating lunch with MJagger, Ciabatta bread and the wife (after the earthquake, of course, of which they did not feel, either), the subject of our refrigerator came up. This may seem a strange, mundane subject, but you haven't seen our frig. Seems we aren't like "real" people and don't have much in our frig. The wife and I never really thought about it--we thought all people had frigs that looked like this on the inside:
Who needs more than a few bottles of water, a couple cans of pop and little orange juice??!! MJagger openly admits she opens our frig when she comes over to let the dogs out because it makes her laugh. The wife admits that she is always amazed when she looks in other people's refrigerators because there is always so much food in them. How do other people know when to go shopping if there is all that food in there?

By the way, in case you are wondering about the freezer, it's basically a bag of Dove Dark Chocolate, a bag of some frozen chicken product, some baking soda and some plastic ice cube fish things:Usually, there are a lot of frozen fake products for vegetarians in the freezer, but I go shopping tomorrow, so even I have to admit that things are pretty sparse at the moment. I suppose if you are hungry, we are not the place to be. Don't worry, though--I have a stash of protein bars and coffee, so it's not like we are going to go hungry or die of scurvy:
Also, I stopped by the Chocolate shoppe in town and got some really fancy chocolates today, so I am really good to go.....unless I want some real food or ice cream. Are these some decadent chocolates or what? God love that man who makes these. I bought the pyramid shaped one for the wife. Step away from the other ones because THEY--ARE--MINE!
Since there's not a lot of food in the house and as I was feeling a need for ice cream, I asked the dogs if they'd like to go for a ride in the car. This actually led to one photo of Freckles with her eyes almost OPEN:You can see she is tipping her head sideways while listening to me, as if to check if I am teasing or not. She understands that I may be kidding but is hoping not. Lucy, on the other hand, is all over the word CAR: "WHAT? DID YOU SAY CAR?" Add "ICE CREAM" to the word "CAR" and Lucy almost gives birth. The dogs start running around like they are possessed. It's almost impossible to get them in the car because they are so excited about going in the car.

The wife notes that it is raining out. In fact, it is now pouring. We--those on an ice cream mission--are not deterred by a little pouring rain. After all, ice cream is more important than some torrential downpour. (At least it wasn't another earthquake.) We did indeed get pretty soggy on the way to the car and soggy dogs never smell good and the Saturn is leaky buckets of rain but we proceeded as planned. The wife didn't want any ice cream and she didn't want to go out in the rain. What fun is she, anyways?

Lucy knows that the people at the Dairy Queen are going to give her a "puppy cup" and she is all about that. Freckles tries to remain indifferent as I drive up to to the window but I can see she is watching out of the corner of her eye to see if a puppy cup is indeed making its way into the car. The lady says the magic words, "Would your dogs like some puppy cups?" and Lucy almost falls off the seat. YES! YES! YES!

For the record, I got a Chocolate X-treme blizzard but it was not very chocolate-ty at all and it certainly wasn't extreme. In fact, it was the worst Chocolate X-treme blizzard I have ever eaten. It was like vanilla ice cream with a few chunks of chocolate in it. I'm not kidding. Woof. If I had noticed before driving away, I would have handed it back and said, "Um, this is supposed to have chocolate in it." Next time, I'll look before I drive away. It almost wasn't worth going out in the rain but I really wanted some ice cream. Next time it better be almost black with chocolate.

Anyways, here is Lucy enjoying her puppy cup:
If you look closely, you can see the ice cream on her chin:Pretty funny stuff. Pretty tasty stuff.

Finally, I am proud to announce that I indeed did "Poop for Peace" today. So did the dogs. I am assuming the wife did, too but I am not asking her. You can ask her. Not me. Maybe that really wasn't an earthquake at all but rather a whole bunch of people pooping for peace at the same time....

I end with words from my wild mama, an email from tonight:
"Hey, what's with this "poop day." I've got a story to tell you, actually two stories. Is there something about not flushing on Poop Day? I went to the bathroom on my break and some lady must have shed 12 pounds -- and didn't flush. It was gross. I hit the flusher (with my foot) and used the other stall. After work, I stopped in again as I was going to the store and here again, the toilet is filled beyond description. I actually stopped to think, did I walk into the man's bathroom instead??? Again I hit the flusher with my foot and used the other stall. What's with these broads? And what do they eat? And they must have hemorrhoids out the gazzoo to pass that huge amount."

That's my mama!
Don't Forget Today's importance....Poop and Flush for World Peace! You know there is something REALLY wrong with me, but I can't resist. Any day dedicated to poop and world peace is something to acknowledge. Humor me. It only happens once a year. So, remember to Poop for Peace, as directed below (by Dave from PoopReport.com (http://www.poopreport.com).

How To Poop For Peace

By Dave. Created Apr 16 2008 - 12:15pm

HOW TO CELEBRATE POOP FOR PEACE DAY -- FRIDAY, APRIL 18, 2008 poopreport.com/peace It doesn't matter whether you poop for peace at home, work, or a Starbucks in between. What matters is this: leave your newspaper on the couch. Leave your magazine at your desk. Enter the bathroom with nothing to distract you, with only this printout to guide you.
  1. Close the door, bare your butt, and sit on the toilet as normal. Do not, however, yet poop. Instead, focus on that feeling in your colon. Think about it. Savor it. Analyze it -- this pressure, this urgency, this unrelenting imperative no man or woman can deny. Think of the millions of people in your country feeling the exact same urgency at the exact same time. Think of the BILLIONS of people in the world who felt this urgency in the last twenty-four hours. There are six billion people in the world, and every single one of us is intimately familiar with the exact sensation you're experiencing right now.
  2. Now, let it flow. And as you do -- think of the rich man, with all his finery. think of the President, with all his power. think of Osama bin Laden, with all his anger. think of Barack Obama, with all his eloquence. think of the Iraqi people, with all their problems. think of Britney Spears, with all her angst. think of the migrant worker, with all his worries. think of the Dalai Lama, with all his holiness. think of Ruth Bader Ginsberg, with all her responsibility. think of John Elway, with all his prowess. think of the Queen, with all her dignity. think of your mother, with all her love. Think of the one thing they have in common.
  3. Finish your poop.
  4. As you stand up, look down. This is the sight that greets Martha Stewart every morning in her mansion. This is the sight that greets Prince Charles every morning in his castle. No matter your skin color, your religion, or your sex, this is proof of your membership in the human race. This brown monolith, bobbing gently in the jaundiced water, represents the most basic human urges. Each one of us -- popes, presidents, politicians, patriots, peasants, policemen, your parents, and on -- each one of us has the same needs, wants, and desires. We all must eat, must drink, and must poop. Whatever our differences are, they pale in comparison to the great commonality: we are all human beings. And boy, does each of us stink.
  5. Flush the toilet. Let the sound of the water cleanse you of your antagonistic worldview. As your stagnant grogan drains down the pipes, let your antipathy drain with it. And that clear, clean, fresh water refilling in the bowl -- let that represent the purity of your soul, refreshed and renewed as your still-quivering asshole.
  6. Leave this printout in the bathroom for the next pooper.
  7. Don't forget to wipe.
  8. Go to poopreport.com/Peace and share in mankind's triumph.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

My Favorite Day of the Year

From "Poopreport.com:
"In two days, the world will once again be pooping for peace.

For the sixth consecutive year, PoopReport.com is spearheading the celebration Poop For Peace Day: a non-partisan effort to focus attention not on the differences that divide humanity, for once, but the commonalities that bind us.

Poop For Peace Day is motivated by the realization that with so much driving humanity to conflict -- our skin colors, our religions, our politics -- the only way to achieve empathy is to focus on the one thing we all have in common.

On April 18, poopers everywhere will meditate on their movement, thinking about Kim Jong Il on his gilded throne and George W. Bush on his porcelain one, and understanding that whether it's from chili or kimchi, every single human being suffers equally under the tyranny of the bowel.

Visit Poopreport.com/Peace to find more information, to download posters and web banners, and to add your name to the list of those pledging to poop for peace. And forward this email to anyone who poops!

On Friday, war is over -- if you grunt it. (Dave, Poop Report)"

Monday, April 14, 2008

Road Trip V: Home Sweet HomeAbove: Here is a rest stop where I peed. It has no significance besides the fact that I peed there.

I had planned on finishing my babbling about my uber-fast trip to/from Dallas, but I am going to take a slight detour for a moment. I get home and see the news on TV for the first time since leaving. (We watched the Weather Channel while on the road but not the news. It was a great break from the incessant pounding of murder, war and crashing markets.) I was working on getting my wireless connection to work on the computer while "Pardon the Interruption" (ESPN) was playing softly in the background....when I hear that Herschel Walker, super famous football player, retired from the Cowboys, has Multiple Personality Disorder.Stop.

Right.

There.

Huh?

I swear I just heard Tony and Mike say Herschel has written a book and has announced he has been treated for Multiple Personality Disorder. I hopped immediately onto the web to get further information, as this is much bigger than anything I could write about my trip or about the merits of Opus Dei.

There it is, in black and white. It hurts my head. (I've included the actual link to the story so you can read the whole thing yourself.)

CLICK HERE FOR HERSCHEL STORY

Suffice it to say, the web site reports: "In the just-released book "Breaking Free", former NFL running back Herschel Walker delves into his excruciating struggles with dissociative identity disorder, saying he tried to manage a dozen alternate personalities and that the condition nearly drove him to suicide.After his retirement from football in 1997, Walker said the disorder began to overwhelm him. At one point, while sitting in his kitchen, he said he played Russian roulette with a loaded pistol....."DID, formerly known as multiple personality disorder, is described as a relatively rare mental condition where a person has two or more distinct personalities.....Jerry Mungadze (Herschel's therapist) says he met Walker's "alters," during their sessions."

"They will come out and say, I am so-and-so. I'm here to tell you Herschel is not doing too good, Mungadze said. " ... When he finishes, it would just disappear back in him, and Herschel comes out."

Oh dear. That gives me something to chew on now that I'm back home......and, here I was worried how I hadn't pooped since before the trip started.

But, back to me. After all, it's my blog and it's all about me. Our final day of travel was rather simple, as we were only five hours away from home. We hopped in the van, started driving and enjoyed the finally-nice-albeit-cold weather. Black Toes drove, I rode, we zipped along. It was very uneventful until the end...

....We were five minutes away from the end of the trip. Five lousy minutes. You know where this is going....GC Black Toes is zipping along the two lane highway, scenery blurring pleasantly by...when a State Trooper--coming toward us--whooshes by. Immediately, I can tell Black Toes is concerned. I'm confused, cuz to my knowledge, the guy didn't speed the entire trip and is a very excellent driver. I am convinced that there is nothing to worry about because I'm thinking that there is no way some State Trooper can radar us going one way as he's going the other. I reassure GCBT that my friend MJagger has told me that "they" don't do this (radar as driving) and thus we have nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, I misunderstood MJagger and sure enough that squad car made a quick U-turn and started after our van. I see the squad turn on his lights. Uh oh. I ask Black Toes if he was speeding, as I certainly didn't know about it. He, being the most honest man on the planet, indicates yes, he most certainly was speeding.

Five minutes away from the end of the trip and he's getting pulled over.

Suffice it to say that he got a speeding ticket. The Trooper was polite enough but the result was the same. I'm so sad I want to pee. (But, not poop. I wish I were pooping but there has nary been a poop since before the trip. I digress.) There is really nothing to say or do but drive the last five minutes, moving citation in hand.

Sigh.

So, we part our ways, our assignment of getting 84 year-old Alice in Wonderland to the land of Lily pad completed. It was a very wonderful endeavor but now the task is done and I must return home. A pee, a hug and I'm off.....
....to get caught in a giant ball of traffic hell. This is the view I had for over 30 minutes. Sitting. Staring. Sucking in diesel fumes. Laughing to myself.

This makes me laugh because we literally never got caught in traffic during the entire 2100 miles of the trip and here I am sitting in traffic not ten miles from home. So, it is going to be THIS kind of ending to our near-perfect trip.

Rat bastards!

And so, I leave you with a picture of a sure sign of summer in Illinois:
There's no place like home.
Road Trip IV: On the Road AgainNow that Alice in Wonderland has decided to stay behind with her sister Lily Pad, GC Black Toes and I are free to return to the Land of Lincoln. I start our journey back with a question: What the hell kind of tree is this? We saw a whole bunch of these, all pruned the same way. They scare me.

Lily Pad's surgery time had yet to be announced, so we had no idea of what would transpire for Lily and AIW's day. Leaving without AIW was kind of weird--after all, the trip was to make sure she got there and back to see her 84 year old twin. (There is SO much more to this story but I have decided such stories to be inappropriate for public record. I'll talk about the whole Opus Dei thing later but other than that, mum's the word. I have SOME scruples.)

All I know is that someone better get her a seatbelt for that wheelchair once she is able to use it again and that someone best get AIW home sometime sooner or later.

We started out bright & shiny early on this beautiful Sunday morning. I didn't sleep much the night before but I was still good to go. We thought we'd stop at a Mc Donald's for a quick bite to eat....Mc D's is usually a very quick endeavor, so we went to the McDonald's in Muskogee, Oklahoma, as illustrated here:
Here are my words of wisdom for the day: NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER stop at the McDonalds in Muskogee, Oklahoma. Why? Because getting food took TWENTY minutes. TWENTY minutes for a breakfast sandwich! It was a most painful event. Here is the evil Mc Donalds: The drive through line was off into the road, so we went inside, only to find the lobby filled with people waiting in line to order their food. I'm guessing it was an after church going crowd, from the looks of the attire. There were tons of workers, so it really didn't make sense why getting breakfast was taking everyone so long. It took me & ol' Black Toes quite awhile to figure out why things were moving so slowly--the cashier person would take your order, saunter slo-o-o-o-o-owly toward the food products, literally wait for the order to be cooked, then bag the food, slowly saunter back to the register, drawl out what you owed and then hand you the bag. Now, at most fast food restaurants, one person takes your order and your money--that's their job--do cashier and ordering. The cashier takes order after order....while a co-worker fills the actual orders. Much faster, efficient & not really brain surgery. Since the next order was only taken by the cashier AFTER the food was made and bagged and paid for, that meant a lot of standing around.....and twenty minutes to get an Egg McMuffin.

Where was my father when we needed him? He's a fast food manager--he would never have allowed this travesty to happen.

And, of course, they got my order wrong (there's a surprise) but I did get this delicious, calorie laden beverage to calm my senses:God, I love those things. It made the world whole again.

And, in true recycling fashion, I re-used the cup to later drink my Gatorade:
I do not suggest doing this, as coffee flavored fruit punch Gatorade isn't exactly the nectar of the Gods, but I did feel like I was doing my part to save the Earth.We traveled along without much excitement, which is a good thing. We stopped to see Blackburn College (photo above to prove we actually, eventually found it), as GC Black Toes almost went there. I am all about see college campuses--it's a nerdy thing the wife and I do while traveling the universe. I was all about seeing a college.

Um, Blackburn College is really small and in the middle of nowhere. Really. The school I went to is really small and this place made my Alma Mater look like UCLA or something. I'm sure it's a delightful school but I'm glad Black Toes went elsewhere. I'm thinking he's probably pretty glad, too.
Of course, now that we had crossed back into Illinois, the weather went bad, as illustrated by these scary, dark, looming clouds. It was time to pull over and stop the trip. Home would have to wait until tomorrow.....

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Road Trip III: Day of LeisureGreetings from warm, sunny, non-snowy Dallas, Texas!! Here it is, Day 3 of the Infamous Road trip! Don't be blinded by those VERY white legs!

Today is a day of leisure for me, as GC Black Toes is visiting with his aunt and uncle and I'm free to be a bum. My allergies are in overdrive, so I'm seeing Texas through blurry eyes and sneezy nose. I know, you have no sympathy if you are reading this from the Midwest, where it is snowing in April.

You know, it's really weird writing a blog because if you start reading the Road trip entries today, you read them 'backwards;' you know, you are starting with the third day, going to the second day and then scrolling down to the first day. These are the things that keep me up at night.Before I forget, I MUST comment on GC Black Toes music. As illustrated above, you can see this man is clearly stuck in the early 1970's. Yes, those are cassette tapes, but that's not the amazing part--they are ORIGINAL tapes from the early 1970's. Really! It's actually quite amazing. They are in such good shape...I almost can't believe it. Unfortunately, they have seen better days and squeak a lot, which is really too bad, as the musical selections are fun. Are these things collector's items or what? What a man!Speaking of GC Black Toes, here he is, posing on our patio:
Don't Jump!!!! Ha ha!
Here is a photo of a morning dove that has been coooooing at me the whole time I've been here. He's sitting right outside the window, pooping and cooing. (See him?) I like it because he reminds me of home, as our backyard always has at least three of four of these doves hanging around.
This is what I look like when on a road trip typing this blog and answering all those emails, not that you really care. Notice I am NOT sitting on the outside of the comforter, as the wife has taught me NEVER to do this in a hotel. I also have my shoes on because she has taught me to keep my shoes on when walking in a hotel room. And, my bag is nowhere near the bed, just in case there are bedbugs. Should have brought my cocoon along and I wouldn't have to worry about this.
Finally, I didn't want to let the wife down, so today I went to a mall (Collin Creek Mall, I believe, but don't quote me on this). I also went to a Marshall's in honor of the wife. Here is a photo of a Chik-fil-a, just for the Wild Mama. These things are all over the place. Youz guyz in Illinois don't know what a Chik-fil-a is, but I do. Being a vegetarian means I don't go there to eat but in the olden days, I had many a delicious sandwich there.

GC Black Toes dropped me off at the mall. He didn't want to do it and was very worried about me. He is such a chivalry-filled man. I knew I could eat my way through the mall and wasn't worried one bit. I stopped at McDonald's and got some chocolate chip cookies, purchased a candy bar, two books, one magazine and one puzzle book at Borders, ate a sandwich and drank a smoothie at the food court....in other words, it is a perfect day at the mall! I tried on a bathing suit but it was a no go. At least I tried something on. I even enjoyed a "Dillard's" siting. We don't have any of those in northern Illinois, either. Here are my purchases: As you can see, Madonna is on the cover of Vanity Fair, so life is even BETTER on this day of leisure!

Well, getting home from the mall was a bit more exciting than getting there. It's about 4.5 miles from our hotel. I figured I'd take the hotel shuttle back, so when I was done with my adventures, I called for a ride. Good news is that the hotel does indeed shuttle people to and from the mall. Bad news is that there was no shuttle driver today. So much for that. My next attempt was to take the city bus. Great! There are all these bus stops. But, I am here to tell you, I never once saw a bus. It was a bad flashback to when the wife and I were in Long Beach and I had locked the keys in the trunk and we had to walk SEVEN friggin' miles in our beach attire and we never once saw a bus on that bus route during those seven miles. I decided to start walking instead of standing on a bus stop. After all, 4.5 miles isn't ridiculous and it is a very pretty day. Besides, the route was via very pretty subdivisions. Well, I got about 4 miles and never saw a bus. Instead, I was picked up by GC Black Toes and toted the rest of the way back to the hotel. My hero!

The rest of today will be spent reading books, napping, thinking about Madonna and eating Oreo cookies. I figure I have to keep up my stamina so I best keep eating junk food. GC Black Toes will be back later and we'll go out to dinner with his mama. We'll be on the road early tomorrow A.M. so I must enjoy my leisure right now! (Or, as they say on Seinfield, "SERENITY NOW!")

Friday, April 11, 2008

Road Trip Part II: Deep in the Heart of TexasJust so there's no confusion on where I am, let me say it's green and lush and warm. Everything is in bloom. I include these two photos for those of you who are in Illinois freezing your asses off right now. Mean? You know it! Will it help you to know that my allergies are really bothering me at this point? I didn't think so. The view above is from Alice in Wonderland's sister's apartment. We'll call the sister Lily pad. Poor Lily pad is in the hospital after a bizarre wheelchair accident that left her with broken bones . More on her later. Below is the current view from my hotel room, generously provided by GC Black toes (the room, that is--the view is thanks to Texas): Below: Finally! Blue skies! View from the windshield: Texas. Much better than yesterday. Why, look! There's the Texas state line. A beautiful thing. No rain, no clouds, no storms. Only a few hours in the van. GC Black Toes didn't let me drive today. I swear I didn't drive on the sidewalks or anything yesterday. There were no instances of near death (that I noticed, anyways).....
So, THAT'S what a Sonic looks like! They show all those stupid Sonic commercials where we live but there's not a Sonic for like 500 miles. I walked over to see the thing up close and personal but didn't end up buying anything. Instead, I purchased a Godiva Dark Chocolate Mocha beverage, chock full of sugar, caffeine and calories. Rockin'!
When in Texas, make sure to Polka.
Above: Proof I am in Dallas--the Dallas Morning News, not that you needed proof. Below: thank god GC Black Toes & Alice in Wonderland didn't try to fly to Texas. American Airlines, whose home is Dallas, canceled 570 or so of their flights today. Yikes! I love the headline below: "Experts: Don't have to fly? Don't." I know it's good they grounded the planes (300 of the MD-80s were grounded today and it's always good when planes are grounded for safety reasons) but it really sucks if you're trying to travel. I did notice earlier today (when in Lily Pad's hospital room, overlooking the Dallas-Fort Worth area from a distance), that I didn't see many airplanes taking off or landing. Now I know why!Yeah, that's my shoe in the lower right of the photo. I had to step on the paper to get the picture.
I'll add stories later....but, for now, I leave you with the view from my hotel room, away from the pool. Ah, think of me while you are swearing at that snow, won't you?!!!

Road Trip

ROAD TRIP!Surprise! I am on a road trip, traveling across the globe with my cousin (GC Black Toes) and his mama AIW (Alice in Wonderland). One van, three people, like $1000 for gas (brutal!) and a bunch of maps and a bunch of snacks. Heaven! 

I love road trips. The wife, on the other hand, who would prefer to have her eyes gouged out with hot pokers than ride in a van for 12 hours a day, has stayed home with the dogs. Chicken!
The word for Day One: Rain.
Above: View from windshield--Illinois. Pouring rain.
Next: View from windshield--Iowa. Pouring rain.
Next: View from windshield--Missouri. Rain.
View from windshield--Kansas. Rain.

I must say, that GC Black Toes made a good call when he decided to divert us to the west before going south, as we later learned that his prowess for the Weather Channel came in very handy... the route he had originally planned went straight thru tornado/winds/storm alley hell. We were able to miss the storms (including the storms that hit Texas with 75 mph winds) because of his good thinking. We may have been through a lot of rain but we weren't blown off the road, no lightning crashed around us, no rivers swept us off the road. And, bonus: it got sunny when we hit the Oklahoma state line! Bonus bonus: It was 74 degrees in Oklahoma at 6 PM. Ya gotta love that when you've come from 35 degrees and freezy precipitating just 12 hours earlier.

I only got to drive for three hours as GC Black Toes was a driver hog, but that's okay. I'll get him back on our journey back to the Land of Lincoln.....I am also having trouble in the won't-let-me-pay-for-anything department. I am keeping written track and will be sending payment to GC Black Toe's wife, as she'll take the money....she's smart. (If she's smarter, she'll hang on to the money and make a profit!)

To sum up day one: No potholes on the way (unlike in the hometown, which is one big pothole); NO--NOT ONE--NO Starbucks seen between Iowa and Texas (I am VERY serious about this--it scared me); I finally got to see a Sonic (see commercials on TV but don't have a Sonic anywhere near us) and there are a lot of stockyards in Oklahoma. Yuck! I got to eat at an IHOP (which the wife hates and I adore), so it was a good ending to a good day. It really was a simple and delightful ride. The time went incredibly fast. 

Watch out, Texas-- here we come!
**************************************************************************

Monday, April 07, 2008

Bobble-headed, Bobble heads, Bobbling Knees....


Ingabor Log-jammer: This blog is for you! Good Luck with the knee surgery!
I have so much to say, none of it world shattering but needing a venue, nonetheless....and, thus you are the elected receiver. I type this as I watch "Dancing with the Stars," so all typos are blamed on Pricilla, Kristy and Marlee. (They are doing the Paso Doble this week, which is my absolute favorite dance of all time, so I'm not even sure why I'm blogging at this moment. You DO know the Paso Doble, don't you? OLE! I love it! If I could only watch one dance on DWTS, it would be the passionate Paso. Growl!)


Yesterday was "Prince Fielder Bobblehead Day" at the Milwaukee Brewer's game.
Here I am, showing off my own personal bobble head. (Um, I don't know who that lady is in the background, but it sure is "sunny in Cleveland"). Bobble head Day was fun and all good. The wife's entire family was in attendance, so that was fun, too. And, since brother Tommy Hilfiger gave the wife's brother (and, obviously, his brother, too!) a new car, there was lots of bobbling headed family members. What IS it about Tommy giving cars to family members?

Unfortunately, the car event was eclipsed by the STOMACH FLU epidemic (or, perhaps food poisoning).....first, the wife's dad, sister and sister-in-law looked rather green, then the mama, then a nephew....the wife and I are PRAYING we do not find ourselves next on the list or we'll be bobbling our heads in toilets....

.....Hearing the word Bobble-head makes me think of my Bobble headed error, sadly discovered today.

I was very confused when I got a credit card statement today for an account I had recently closed. Weirder--there was a $600.00 CREDIT on the statement. I wasn't sure what to think, so I called the company. While I am trying to talk to the fine young man, obviously located somewhere deep in India, I have a flash of my bobble-headed error:

I made an electronic payment to the WRONG credit card. 

So, the card with the $600.00 worth of charges didn't get one penny paid and a paid off account got $600 extra smackers.

Above: This is how I felt when I realized my error.

(This is also how four year olds look after they have HAD ENOUGH of Bobble Head day.)

It IS funny in a bobble-headed way, though......Can't wait to see how long it takes Capital One to send me a refund check. Wanna take any bets?

Bikini season is almost here (a time when we hope nothing is bobbling too much), which means I am going to kick it up a notch before our cruise gets ready to set sail. I've regularly been doing walking tapes at home (I look ridiculous but I like to think it helps and that I'm lowering my cholesterol) as well as walking the dogs (which really shouldn't count because they are so dang slow--they have little legs--but it is still walking).
(This photo of Lucy is included to illustrate that she is insulted by the slow walking comment.) 

MJagger and I have been walking together two times a week in a mission to squeeze into a skanky tank top (MJagger) and to make sure parts don't jiggle too much while in swimwear (me). She can walk fast so I have to work hard to keep up. When we get tired, we start thinking about that tank top and that cruise.

Suddenly, walking fast doesn't seem so hard.


The other day, MJagger decided we should try a little jogging in addition to our walking. Now, I used to be a runner (operative words: USED TO) but that "career" ended many a year ago after a herniated disk in the neck and unidentified knee problems. We're talking ten years here. Add the fact that MJagger is ten years younger, I figure that's like being twenty years behind. But, being the bikini-focused person that I am AND having pride in the ability to be able to hobble along with someone ten years younger, I was agreeable to give it a try. She was gentle--one minute of jogging, three minutes of walking, for three miles. Sounded reasonable, so I agreed. I looked down at my pathetic, used, worn, no-cushioned-left shoes and set off into glory.

I thought it went relatively well. I didn't get winded, I didn't throw up, I didn't pass out and I was able to make it the whole way, as was MJagger. No limbs fell off, I didn't throw up and I only had knee pain in one knee, not both.....

...several days later and I'm sore. I'm in pain. I'm a hurtin' pup and it hasn't gotten any better. I can't afford to be injured!! Bikinis! Bikinis! Bikinis!

Maybe it's just sympathy pain for Ingabor Log-jammer, but I don't think so.

Pray for my patella. Pray for her patella. Pray for Nutella. Whatever bobbles, pray for that, too. Bikini bottom, while I prabe with me.