I've been missing you!

Dear Friends,

I've missed you since I've been out to lunch.  And I don't mean in a turkey-sandwich-on-wheat-hold-the-mayo-in-between-phone-calls-because-the-crazy-doesn't-stop kind of way.

No I mean I've been running on auto-pilot for this entire month and I miss picturing your smiling face while you eat a buffalo chicken wrap just before you open up Corey & Stacie.

A typical day for Corey 'n me starts with a nice walk with the dog, some breakfast, a little work in the office, dinner at home, felting for me, a ball game for him and then Matlock for dessert.  Nice.  Easy.

But recently my day looks like this:

• walk dog
• pack bag of running clothes
• pack bag of wool and jewelry supplies
• pack bag of breakfast, lunch and dinner
• run out of house without brushing teeth
• work
• lunch
• work
• think about blogging
• get interrupted by homeless people
• 5pm!
• time to go home!
• no it's not
• run
• (paper) towel off in office bathroom
• sit in office: watch TV on Internet
• sit in office: felt
• sit in office: eat dinner
• 7pm, now it's time to go home
• nope
• rehearsal for murder mystery
• pretend to smoke Virginia Slims
• murder someone (or do I??)
• 10pm
• home
• Matlock
• pie
• 11pm, pass out with glasses on

Insert various meetings in "sit in office" time and that's pretty much what I can expect four days a week.  The other three days are filled with laundry, sleep and sitting without moving.

After so many weeks of this my brain gets tired.  It forgets things or refuses to function altogether.

Ok, so not entirely altogether.  I am technically still alive.  But my brain has missed a few crucial things.  Like blogging.  And zipping up my snow pants before heading out this morning.

14 degree draft = crucial.

So, in closing I hope you will take the following as a most heartfelt apology for my abscess:

"Corey, I hate the smell of your hair gel"

"What does it smell like??"

"Like sweet spit; it grosses me out."

"You do realize there isn't any spit in it, right?"

...

Your BFF,
Stacie

Tidbits

Here are a few nuggets to start your (hopefully short!) work week:

1.  My hair smells like vinegar.

It's, um, a natural conditioner.  Or so I've heard.  Right now all I know is that I have a mason jar full of something that looks like pee and smells worse that I have committed to dunking the ends of my hair into after every wash.

2.  I still have the jitters from a coffee I drank yesterday.

And it wasn't even a good coffee.

3.  Our weekend revolved around smells: my breath and Oliver's butt.

That's a story that doesn't need telling, there is no happy ending.

4.  Yes there is, the foul odors have been eliminated.  The End.

But just so you aren't picturing strange things happening at my house, let me assure you my breath and Oliver's butt are in no way connected.  I just happened to be emitting a "hickory" scent (as Corey described it) from my mouth while Oliver had a few glandular issues.

Butt glands.  He had butt gland overflow.

Sorry.

5.  The coffee also made me dizzy and nauseous and hungry.

6.  I am still dizzy and nauseous and hungry.

7.  I am only working two days this week. 

My brain has started vacation early.

Like, today.

2011 goals revisited

I looked at my calendar today.  Like, really looked at it.  Not the "please tell me today is Thursday because I could really use an 'it's almost Friday' pick-me-up" kind, more like "what are those teeny tiny little numbers in the bottom corner?"

Those numbers said there are only 44 days left in 2011.

Uh oh.

Hey, remember 321 days ago when I posted my New Year's resolutions?  I had ten of them, they weren't too hard...remember?

Yeah, me neither.  Which means I probably have not had much success in keeping them:

1. Train for the triathlon in June.

A triathlon?!  I wanted to do this?  Oh yes, that was before I found out about my trick knee.

Fail.

2. Break my addiction to carbs and brownies.

This was over before it even started.  In fact, I declared this past summer The Summer of Carbs.  I can no longer fit into my clothes.

Super fail.

3. Save up enough money for a down payment on the house I love.

It's hard to save money when you get $185 tickets for talking on your cell phone.

Fail.

4. Convince Corey he loves the house too.

The house sold two months ago.  I only just stopped crying myself to sleep.

Grrr fail.

5. Stop smoking.

Yes!  But I didn't smoke to begin with so does this count?

6. Hold Corey and myself to weekly date nights.

I can count the number of dates on half of one hand.

Fail.

7. Leave the workforce to raise four kids, wear a frilly apron, and cook homemade pot pies.

You tell me.

8. Finish reading my Bible already.

I will actually be done by the end of the year!!  It only took me two years.

....for goodness sake.

9. Find a charity and offer up my services.

Oh boy did I.  There is a reason The Summer of Carbs existed; it's because it was also The Summer Stacie Was Never Home Because She Had Two Meetings A Day For The Soup Kitchen Fundraiser And Had To Eat Whatever She Could Get Her Hands On.

I normally shorten the title when I refer to it.

10. Enter and win a pie eating contest.

I still have time...and half a pie in my refrigerator.

Just noticed I wanted to give up carbs and eat a ton of carbs all in the same set of goals.

...

Soooooo, two and a half completed out of ten.  Not too bad considering I completely forgot about them and any amount of completion was entirely coincidence.

I plan on making 2012 goals much simpler.

Like, "make pee pee in the potty."

And "buy a pair of pants."

My favorite things....right now

In order to make up for what is lacking in my posts these days (substance), I'm going to try to feed you little tidbits o'stuff.

This first one is about the junk I really like at the moment.

Enjoy.

...

Farmers market spinach: green, firm and not slimy.  I never knew this is how spinach is supposed to be.

Corey talks in his sleep too: "Hey Corey, you should probably get up, we need to leave soon." "Will you please stop talking?!  You come in here like a hurricane and....sorry Beetle, I'm only half awake."

Trivia night at the bowling ally: if it looks country, sounds country, then it must be country.  I don't care.  I do trivia in a bowling ally and I love it.

Corey's secret chicken recipe: can't tell you what's in it.  Secret.

Falling asleep to Matlock. 

Falling asleep to Matlock via YouTube on my phone when Matlock is not more easily accessible.

Oliver: even though he attacks other dogs because he is a grumpy old man.  This implies there are moments where I don't like him.  That would be correct.  I don't like him when he attacks other dogs.

Buying new pens: I love office supplies more than you'll ever know, my friends.

...

Until the next tidbit, tah-tah!

Today's Events: The Do's and Don'ts Edition

This is what I wanna do today:

shop for houses

eat warm cookies and dunk them in milk

play in the snow

blog (check)

This is what I don't wanna do today:

explain why retirement benefit deductions have increased

listen to people yell at me

try to write letters and not use the word "stuff"

talk politics

Want another list?

I have weird flaps on the tops of my ears

I'm wearing four shirts and am still cold

organic frozen burritos are pretty good

my dog talks in his sleep

Ok.  Time to go do work stuff.

Oh the things we'll see

My office is a block away from Slum Depot East, also known as Crack Central, and Fredella Avenue.  We are on the main route to the grocery store, the liquor store, the bus stop, the hospital, and the library.  However, so far I have not seen one person walk back to the Depot with a book.  Unless it was in a bag with the breakfast brew.

We have our regular passers-by:

The Man in Black:  He wears all black, all the time.  He also screams obscenities at cars and small children, walks into traffic and, according to the local paper, enjoys exposing himself.  The Man is very tall and thick, so I avoid eye contact at all cost if we happen to pass each other; he being on his way to...I don't know where, and me on my way back from a brownie run.

The Happy Couple:  He is a tiny 120 pounds.  She is 400+ and wheelchair bound, and yet he pushes her up and down the street once a day to the emergency room where she complains about her health.  I'm pretty sure she puts out the cigarette before entering the hospital.

The Honker:  He drove by in his beat up blue Mercury more than five times a day, blaring his horn.  I think those anger management sessions finally started working, though, because I haven't seen/heard him in awhile.

The Early Risers:  They walk by in their pjs at about 10am, groggy and stumbling.  I see them 20 minutes later with breakfast in a bag (6-pack of Milwaukee's Best) and a little hitch in their step.

The Veteran:  He's just trying to get a ride down to the VA hospital in Albany.  I feel bad for this one, he has sad eyes.

The Hooker:  Not to be confused with The Honker.  I never thought I would know how to spot one if I saw one in real life, she made it easy.  Stripper shoes away from the stripper pole is a clear indication.

The Skinny Santa:  He has the bushy white beard and big red coat, but he is short and skinny...and not so jolly, especially after getting hit by a car last month.  But don't worry.  Santa had a good meal at the hospital and is back on the street.  His bike, however, did not survive.

Then there are The Nomads.  Random folks we see once or twice, then never again.  I assume there is a quick turnaround at the Depot.  You can't blame them for not wanting to put up a picket fence and call Fredella home.

I do actually work when I'm there, although, people watching is much more interesting.  There's nothing like a daily reminder of how easily my situation could change to keep my mind on the job.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Now here is a list of things I would like to be thankful for next month:

• Wii.   Adults can play video games too (Corey), as you will see in the following games I am also wishing for: Wii Fit, Trivial Pursuit, Super Mario Brothers.
• Nikon camera.  The small one.  So I can put it in my pocket and take impromptu pictures of mullets and mom jeans.
• Gym bag.  The cheap canvas bag I currently use is too small.  And it stinks.
• UGGs.  I am about four years behind in this trend, but it has taken me that long to NOT call them UGGlies.  Size 8.  Contact Corey for styles.  There are several to chose from.
• Title Nine vest.  Boss's daughter has one.  I'd like to copy her.  Contact Corey for more information.
• Long Johns.  I, um, get cold.
• Travel size Bible.  Because I can't nag myself about what I should be doing.
• Salt and pepper shakers.  No joke.  We use salt directly out of the tube it came in.  Very primitive.
• Purdue gear.  To combat all of the Notre Dame apparel I see daily.  Victoria's Secret makes a mean Boilermaker hoodie.
• Apple Macbook.  Yes.  This is pricey, but it would be a good time for long forgotten great-aunt Joanne to feel the sudden urge to revive the familial bond with her sister's daughter's daughter and make up for all the lost Christmases and birthdays.  In turn, I will make up for all the macaroni art she never received from me.  I think that's fair.
• Bernina sewing machine.  The mac daddy of sewing machines.  And why shouldn't I have the best?  My ability to put a pot holder together is totally professional.
• Queen's Greatest Hits.  Voted best band of all time by me.  Worst band of all time: Third Eye Blind.

That's all, dear, dearest friends.  May you have the most wonderful, blessed holiday season!

P.S. For shipping purposes, all major department stores have my address on file.  Thanksomuch.