A Concerned Viewer

Dear Hallmark Channel Executives,

First let me say I do appreciate the Matlock movie marathon aired Sunday night.  I now have enough of my favorite aged attorney saved on my DVR to last me through next week.  I haven't yet seen which episodes were recorded, but I really hope one of them is the beach one.  You know, where Ben's daughter goes on vacation and one of her friends gets killed by the other friend.  It's my favorite.


But getting down to business, I do have a very grave concern regarding your programming:  you're senior-targeted advertisers are scaring the crap out of me.  I understand the elderly population makes up a majority of your audience, thus influencing advertising, but if I have to watch the Little House on the Prairie mom tell me one more time how hard it is for her to get in and out of the tub, I just might have to forgo Matlock altogether.


What's the big deal, you ask?


I am 28 years old.  And unfamiliar with the labors of the aging process.  I did not know I will have to get a door installed on my bathtub because I won't be able to lift my leg a foot and a half to step in.  Or that only AARP can help cover the enormous medical bills Medicare won't.  I was shocked to find out I will lose my hearing and will need the Six Million Dollar Man's radical new hearing aid, but delighted to know I can get a power scooter for free.

Wilford Brimely tells me I'm going to get diabetes, and what's this business about falling and not being able to get up?

I didn't want to know I am going to lose all control of my hearing, my bladder, my blood sugar and the muscles in my legs, so to cope I filed that information away in my stuff-that-happens-to-other-people category.  But this product hit too close to home, the last straw, if you will:

The girls shown in this commercial resemble me in the very near future.  (If you wish to view it yourself please click here.)  Am I to assume I will grow wings in my 30s?  Because the lady telling me how to keep them tucked into what looks like your choice of black or ivory sausage casings does not specify.  Should I avoid muscle development in that area to avoid "roomy" skin once I discontinue all physical activity and my muscles atrophy?  Again, no direction in the commercial.

I do not expect you, Mr. and Ms. Big-Wig, to answer my questions.  All I am asking is for a little consideration for the three of us under 30 in your viewing audience when it comes to advertising.

Might I suggest soliciting a Cookie Crisp or Polly Pocket commercial to balance things out?

Thank you for your time,

A Concerned Almost Thirty-Something

Ten on Tuesday

1. Pretend it’s Monday morning–take us through a day in the life of you.
First, I wake up.  Then I walk my psycho, must-run-to-everything-that-looks-like-food dog.  This is followed by some quiet time with my Bible, which is directly followed by Saved By the Bell and breakfast.  I de-stink myself, speed to work because I'm always running late, work on a blog all day, come home, eat, talk to hubs, settle in for Matlock and ice cream, fall asleep.


2. What’s your favorite reality TV show?
None.  The bachelor-type shows are too addicting, so I stay away, and the American Idol type shows have too much fluff so I get bored.

3. What motto do you live by?
"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."  James 1:2-4

Is that a motto?

4. If you knew could you try anything and not fail, what dream would you attempt?
I would lead art tours of Florence, Italy.  Which basically means I would point out every other house and building as artistically relevant.

5. What was your first job?
I worked for our local hospital in the cafeteria for two years in high school.  I gave cranky nurses extra mashed potatoes because they would yell at me if I didn't.

6. What is your current job?
I am technically a Legislative Assistant to a New York State Senator.  But there is nothing legislative about my job.  I am the complaint department.  Anyone in the district who has an issue with child support, welfare, electricity, retirement, workers' compensation, unemployment, education and other miscellaneous issues goes through me.

7. What would you call yourself if you could choose your own name (and you cannot pick the one you already have)?
I like the weird celebrity names, so I would be an Apple, or a Velvety Blue, or a Chimichanga.  Something unique like that.

8. What musical instruments can you play?
I grew up in the band instrument capital of the world.  And I was geeky.  So I played the trombone.  I'm not sure if I could still play, though.  The guy who yanked out my wisdom teeth left half of my bottom lip numb, and I would kinda need it to play.

9. Is it easier to forgive or forget?
Forgive.

10. What is one food you’d never want to taste again?
The "gizzard" sandwich I accidentally ordered in Italy.  I thought I was getting chicken, but what I put in my mouth was something slimy and weird and definitely not chicken.

A Price To Pay For Free Flowers

Ever heard the saying "God works in mysterious ways"?

I'm sure plenty of people have.

How about this one: "God will smack ya right in the face with His ways"?

...no?  Well maybe you should just commit it to memory and pull it out next time you see glaringly obvious signs of "don't touch" or "maybe you shouldn't steal that right now", because you just might be able to save yourself a world of "fun" chasing rogue crickets or getting stranded outside in the dark.

...

Allow me to explain: Saturday morning Corey and I planned a small get together, our annual Travers Party, to kick off the day of horse racing leading to the biggest race of the meet, the Travers.

(if you grew up in a box like me, you're screwin' your face up all funny right about now)

Corey arranged all food and drink preparations, I laid out the set up and decorations.  And as the chair and sole member of the decorating committee I unanimously decided to go with a purple loosestrife/green hydrangea combination.

This was actually my only option as my budget was $0 and I knew where I could get some really cheap (read: free) loosestrife and hydrangeas.  The only problem was acquiring said flowers.  I would have to swipe them under cover of darkness.

Hint #1 a certain omni-present deity would not approve:  needing to use the dark of night to conceal actions that may or may not be legal.

Hint #2 a certain omni-present deity would not approve:  failing a first attempt to swipe loosestrife due to police presence in the exact spot the planned swiping was schedule to occur.

I proceeded with my purple loosestrife hunting anyway.  That is, after circling the area until the cop pulled away.  So there Corey sat, just off the side of the highway on-ramp while I crouched between the highway and the patch of vibrant purple flowers.

My tools:

cell phone flashlight, rain boots, gloves and rudolph christmas scissors

I violently whacked flowers and shoved them into my bag.  Corey honked his horn impatiently.  Cars drove by, shining their headlights on my under-handed deeds.

I ran back to the car, baggy of flowers in the back seat, and we drove off to the state college campus across the street from our apartment.  Where I hacked bunches of green hydrangeas.

"You know they have cameras, right?"

"What?!  And your telling me this NOW??"

And then the damage had been done.  It was hammer time, literally.

Punishment #1

We pull into our parking spot.  I grab the grocery baggy now full of flowers and see a cricket hanging out on the seat.  I think to myself:

Corey just might blow a gasket over this one.  He wasn't too keen on the idea and this will just put him over the edge.  Now, if I close this door the poor little cricket just might meet a peaceful end here in this car over night and Corey will never know...

In the meantime:

"What's going on?"

"Nothing..."

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Um...like what?"

He walks over to my side of the car.

"You've GOT to be kidding me!!"

(cue dueling pianos: Corey chases cricket, Stacie chases cricket, Corey stomps, Stacie shrieks "SAVE IT!!", Corey digs under seat, Stacie finds cricket and screams, cricket hops away, Corey digs under seat, Stacie finds cricket, cricket hops away, Stacie finds cricket, covers it with hand, cricket hops away, Stacie finds cricket, covers it with hand, takes it to bush, cricket hops toward Stacie, Stacie screams, cricket hops away, Corey shakes head, end music.)

Punishment #2

"So, I think I'm going to trim the flowers outside."

"Good idea."

Several minutes go by.

"How's it coming?"

"Fine."

"Um, do you have a key?"

"No."

"Ok.  I just locked us out."

"Ah, jeez Corey!"

After bugging two neighbors and a landlord, we finally found our way back into the apartment where the punishments finally ceased.  Because I went to bed.

Did I learn my lesson?  You betcha.

And that lesson is:  follow that little voice that says "no" no matter how pretty the dang flowers are.

They are pretty though, aren't they?...

Friday Confessions

Happy Friday!  This time I knew it was coming.

1.  One day at work a few years ago I was elbow deep into my shirt fishing out a piece of granola that had fallen in when the super handsome future congressman walked in the door to meet with my boss.

2.  When I was younger our neighbors had a son a few years older than me.  The little jerk told me if I held more than six rolly-pollies I would die.  I.  Flipped.  Out.  Of course, because what seven year old can resist a bug that turns into a toy?

3.  I may or may not be involved in a stealth operation to be carried out tonight that involves "borrowing" wild flowers off the side of the highway.

4.  I don't mind my own business.  Everyone else's is much more interesting.

5.  My middle name is Jo, so one of the football players on my high school's team would call me Josephina Dina.  A football player who was also able to come up with Slick Rick.

6.  Good Morning America makes me cry.  Darn you Robin Roberts and your courageous humanitarian efforts.

7.  I am so tired I could spit.

8.  But it would probably come out more like drool.

9.  Our dog chewed a hole in our new rug.  He has been shipped off to military school.

10. My mom turns 50 in September.  So my sisters, dad and I planned a surprise party for her the Sunday before the big day...and then we told her about it.

Horse Sense and Dirty Work

I didn't intend for my morning adventure to be a post topic.  I actually had no idea what I was getting myself into when I agreed to meet two of Corey's friends at 6:30am for coffee and a tour of the innards of the Saratoga horse racing facilities.

Ohmigoodnessgraciousitwassostinkincool!!

...play it cool, Stace.  Play it cool.

I mean, it was ok.

Yeah, we got to meet some big shot trainers.

Chatted with the owner of West Point Thoroughbreds.

Said hello to itsy bitsy jockeys.

No big whoop.

Thanks to Corey's reporter friend, Claire, we came within inches of at least half a million horses.

Slight exaggeration, I apologize.

On the million part.

Because we were within mere inches. 

I was able to resist petting each one (although barely) thanks to a grumpy rider who scolded Corey for swatting at a bee.  I figured if the horsies are startled by "BEE!!" dancing they certainly aren't going to like a hand darting out in front of their faces with a crazy person attached to it.

So instead I picked at my lip.

We walked all around the barns and I was able to see the "real" side of racing.

Corey will tell you, eyes rolled and totally honest, I bug the crap out of him when it comes to how horse people treat their investments.  Because really, you don't races horses because you like to see them run fast or you think it's funny when they snort across the finish line.  You race them to win money.  And I like to know that they are treated like living, breathing creatures should be.

And as far as I could tell, they were.  Especially by the trainer at this stable.  The dears had their baths and their treats.  They got out to stretch their legs and take a leisurely stroll through the grounds.  In other words, they live better than I do.

Girl's gettin' a manicure.  Or is that a pedicure?

Don't even get me started on how beautiful these suckers are.  The dang things are so long and lean, I could watch them for hours.

I did watch them for hours.  We were there until 9am.

Work?

Eh.

Why work when you can ogle Rachel Alexandra?

Work it girlfriend.  Work it.

I eventually did make it in to work, with the excuse of an ingrown toenail or something quasi-believable, where I stunk up the office with the smell of dirty hay and horse poop still on my skin and in my hair.

...haven't been able to place the dirty feet smell, though.  i'm not wearing my stinky shoes.

So thank you, thank you, thank you Claire for smuggling us into the "other side" and giving us an experience we might have never had as simple spectators.

Or as they say on the backstretch: gracias.

Fair Week

Is that fried chicken and horse poop I smell?

Pig sweat and pancakes?!?

Well golly-buttcracks, it must be time for the County Fair!

Golly buttcracks with suspenders, I mean.

...

Every year my boss sets up a booth at the Washington County Fair and recruits mandatory volunteers from her office to man it for the entire week.

Growing up with the country's third largest county fair in my backyard has given me a soft spot for the dirty, the smelly, and the animals.

(hehe, see what I did there?  you thought i was talkin' about the animals...hehe)

So I look forward to my shift.

I watch people walk by.  All kinds of people.  My favorites are the country folk with their boots and jeans and I-don't-care-what-you-think-of-this-cow-manure-on-my-shirt attitude.  They're so simple, yet work so stinkin' hard.  I envy them, but then I look at my pink fingernails and realize I could not maintain a perfect manicure if I'm touching dirty stuff all day, every day.

I also walk around a little, look at the other booths, pick up a Tupperware and Avon catalogue, browse the Pokemon cards and leather chaps, maybe grab an apple cider slushee.

But the very, very best part of this fair, and every other fair, festival and carnival, is the food.  The drippy, greasy, fried-everything food.  If you don't leave the grounds feeling like you're going to vomit, you didn't have enough of an elephant ear/fried veggies/chocolate shake combo.

I, personally, prefer the walk-away-sundae at the Lions Club booth.  Allow me to borrow last year's illustration of this super treat:

Please notice the size.  This is the best ice cream cone I've ever had.  And the old man serving it with the same dirty gloves he uses to take my money makes it a true fair cone.

Ahhhhh.  Good times.

...

My eight hour shift was yesterday.  It will be a whole year before I'm back.  Until then I will just have to settle for the smell of dirty dog and pomegranate and ice cream from Edy's.

Ten on Tuesday

This is a fun edition of Ten on Tuesday:  it's me showing you crappy cell phone pictures of random junk.  I can paint a pretty mental picture, but nothing says I have a lotta stuff in my fridge like an actual picture of my fridge.  View on...

1. My house.

but my house is really an apartment

2. My shower.

the inside is just as exciting as the outside

3. The inside of my refrigerator.

4. My pet.

he had an itch

5. My favorite pair of shoes.

these are my favorite shoes i can't wear

and these are my everywhere else favorites

6. The most comfortable seat in my house.

7. My favorite cup.

8. My laundry room.

more of a laundry nook

9. The view from my office chair.

10. My spouse.

He's Always Right Most of the Time

Corey Lucas never fails to make me laugh.

Unless he thinks I need to do the dishes at 9:00pm.

There is nothing funny about dishes.

...

Tonight we are going to a cookout at his friend Rich's house.  I asked him this morning to let me know when we needed to be there.

His email response:

"We're leaving for Rich's around 6:45pm, sharp."

Friday Confessions

1.  Brownies give me a stomach ache, but even if they made my stomach ooze out of my belly button I would still eat them.

2.  I have a footie in my purse.  So if I ever need to try on a shoe...

3.  My sister, Kimberlie, and I spent five whole minutes of our lives debating whether or not Brittney's Hit Me Baby One More Time video was the school girl outfit or red space suit.

4.  I cannot say the name Colleen.  My mouth just can't pronounce it right.

5. 

6.  I have a few pairs of shoes I wear so much they have become stinky.

7.  I still wear them.

8.  I may or may not be responsible for destroying our TV remote.  And Corey and I may or may not be running back and forth between TVs with the one remote we have that now operates both sets in our apartment.

9.  I will not reveal how the remote was broken.

10.  But it may involve me "forcibly tossing" it to Corey.

I plead the fifth.

BUSTED

Note to those pondering criminal activity in the City of Glens Falls, New York:  Time for Plan B.

We have so little crime here, our cops are just itchin' to bust somebody.

Oooo, and bust somebody they did.  Yesterday.  Right outside my office.

Two doods in this red car did something bad.  What you can see in this picture is one Glens Falls Police car, one police motorcycle and one county sheriff car.  What you can't see is the other county sheriff and GFPD car.

What you also don't see: three of us in my office plastered to the windows.  One of us taking way too many pictures.

"I have no idea what that is dawg."

"It looks like a crack pipe to me."

"Aw man, I thought it was a funky sippy straw."

Now we meet the driver.

"Them drugs ain't mine.  This ain't even my car...."

But now the plot thickens.  The investigator on the right pulls up and takes the driver into his unmarked car, cuff free, and drives off.

Can anyone say "informant?"

Oh, and here are the bushes in front of my office.

Now investigator number two joins the party.  Everyone stands around and talks for a few minutes more and the remaining perp hops into a cop car, also cuffless, and they all drive away.

It actually wasn't as exciting as it could have been.

No escape attempts.

No biting.

No tasers.

Maybe next time guys.

Awestuck

Have I mentioned how much I love adhesives?

And this is just my glue!

Can I tell you,  I am just plain giddy.

Ten on Tuesday

1. Where did you go to college?
Purdue University, West Lafayette, Indiana...because that's where my boyfriend was going.  I knew practically nothing about the school.


2. What did you study?
I started in Marketing, but before classes started I switched to Art Education, then switched again before my sophomore year to Communication, with the idea of specializing in Public Relations, because a friend of mine told me I would look good in pastel pant suits.

3. Was college really all that it was cracked up to be?
Oh yes.  I enjoyed every single minute of it.  And I took full advantage of my, uh, freedom.

4. How far were you from home?
Two and a half hours.

5. Did you have the same roommate all four years?
I roomed with Monica from my high school for the first two years.  The second year we picked up "Swan," our crazy, pot-smoking neighbor from the dorm, and Denisha, the Virginia girl who was bigger than most of the football players on Purdue's team.  Aaaah, memories.  Then I realized I'm too OCD to live with other people, so I moved into a studio apartment and lived by myself the last two years.

6. Where did you order food from at 2am?
Funny story, our Subway delivered, and I could not get enough of their chocolate chip cookies.  So one night I called up and ordered 15 (three for a dollar, and it was a $5 minimum.) 

Mad Mushroom had the best cheesy bread that could only be eaten while under the influence of...orange soda.  And if I was up at 2am it was because of orange soda.

7. Did you date in college or were you tied down?
I was tied down for all but two semesters.  And within those two semesters I dated three Robs.  One called our apartment:

"Can I talk to Stacie?  This is Rob."

"Which one?"

He didn't think it was funny.

8. Funniest drunk college moment?
I was once so sick the next day I couldn't move without vomiting.  I had to nap in my car, which was full of boxes as I was planning to move back into my apartment.  A guy tapped on my window to ask if I was ok and all I could do was raise my hand.  Horrible then, super funny now.

9. Did you make it to class on time?
I think so.  I had a lot of small classes, so I wasn't able to sneak in unnoticed.  There was one lecture, though, I tried to sneak into about 15 minutes late, I set my mug on the desk and tried to climb over the back of the chair (?), but my leg hit the mug and sent it crashing to the floor.  Of course.

10. What was your favorite class in college?
I took a golf class and a theater class my senior year.  For golf we had passes to the school's course and our assignments were to play.  And in theater we had to be goofy and go see plays.
 
I miss college...

Wedding Day: Ceremony

So eventually, after hours and hours of hair, make up, pictures, and a last minute touch up after I sneezed and busted through my dress, Corey and I finally made it to the ceremony location.

Where I met up with my attendant for the day, Donna, who made sure I enjoyed my entire night.

"Girl, I need you to take five more bites of that salad."

"Yes, Donna."

My dad managed to walk me down the aisle.  Tear free.

Where Corey and I did our thing.

See this fancy hangy-down thing?  That is not originally part of the dress.  It was added by my seamstress who had to hide the mess she made of the back because she "doesn't do zippers."  Don't get me started.

Oh, and pay no attention to the bones sticking out of my back.  I'm in pizza therapy to correct it.

"I, Corey, take you, Stacie, to love and cherish, and not yell at when you refuse to do the dishes, like, every single day."

"I, Stacie, take you, Corey, to love and cherish, and not roll my eyes when you cough and hack like an old man."

Or something like that.

And then my favorite song in the world starts (Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring) played by the cutest little string quartet made up of high school kids....

...and Corey and I were outta there.

To take a few more pictures.

But then it was really time to relax and have fun.

This is my dad.  Future seminary student and pastor.  Don't mind that glass in his hand, it's only apple juice (wink wink).

These are my besties from high school and college:  Amanda, Monica and Jill.  We were all band doofuses together.  Although some of us were less doofussy than others...

This was at our cocktail hour where me and my 25lb dress meandered through a crowded bar.  I eventually walked with my arms wrapped around myself as my triceps could no longer yank the dang thing up anymore.  An hour from now I'll be in a different dress, crammin' pasta down my throat thanks to Donna, and dancing a wicked Irish jig...

Wedding Day

Hey, did you know Corey and I got married?   

Yeah, like a year ago.

You probably wouldn't have known, other than me actually referring to him as my husband, as there are almost NO pictures of the occasion on this blog.

Erin over at Sassin' Southern Style reminded me.

So as I planned this post I realized why there were no pictures posted:

Choosing a handful out of over 600 is not easy.  It is actually very frustrating.

"This is a good picture, but it looks just like that picture and I already have 150 lined up to post, so..."

And then Corey felt the need to "help" by excluding all of the pictures where he looks "bad."

He looks the same in all of them...

...

We had an excellent photographer, Heather Bohm-Tallman, who I refer to everyone I pass on the streets.

(Heather, if someone knocks on your door saying some weirdo told them to come over and they're not sure why, you're welcome.)

So without further ado, because I can base a whole post just on ado:

The boys.  A bunch of lady-killers, I say:

Friends Scott and Jeff, Corey, best man Jon, cousin Casey.

The girls:

Liz, sisters Kimberlie and Katie, BFF Jill, cousin Lily

That towering lady there, Jill, is pregnant in this picture.  Wedding day Stacie will find out a few hours from this picture and she may or may not scream.

And the baby she eventually has may or may not be the cutest thing ever.

But I digress.

We chose to have our pictures done before the ceremony, so Heather staged a "first sighting" where Corey and I would see each other for the first time, all by ourselves.....with everyone we know and two photographers watching us from a distance.  It was sweet.

Click on the picture to blow it up and see his face. 

I can tell you this definitely isn't the face I see when I roll over, bobby pins and stray hairs sticking up every which way, with my morning breath as I try to tell him about a dream I just had.

But sometimes it is.

The fams:

Gary, Bonnie, happy couple, Debbie, Mick

See how Corey and my mom are standing on my dress?  Everyone at that wedding, at one time or another, stood on that dress.  It was hard not to.

The thing went on for days.

It also weighed 25 pounds.  Easily.

Side note: check out my shoes here (may need to click on pic to make it larger).  Coolest shoes I have ever owned.  Also, biggest splurge of my lifetime.

Another side note: this is what I look like after tanning.

The picture below is my favorite out of all 600-and-something.  I l-o-v-e the expressions.

...and then we got goofy.

The end.

For now....