It's all fun and games until someone gets weird

You may not know this about Corey, but he's an 8-year-old on the inside.

Way down deep inside.

Like past the aches and pains and never-ending stream of gas of a nearly 40-year-old.

He chases fire trucks and watches airplanes take off from a parking lot near his office.  And at all times we have several of those horrible 79 cent pizzas sitting in our freezer.
It's fun.  And most of the time I get a kick out of his little quirks.

Then we had some crazy person hiding in the bushes next to our apartment building.

Corey Lucas went on the case.

The night we found the guy Oliver was actually the one who rooted him out of the bushes.  He barked his big boy bark and the guy slowly walked back through the parking lot toward the street.

I watched the whole thing unfold from the safety of our bedroom, so I could see him slinking by, and then sprinting around the front of our building.

To say this dude was a creepster would have been flattering.

Corey ran upstairs.

"Did you see that?!"

We tried to spy on him through the windows as he seemed to be casing the small high school behind our building but it was too bright inside.  So I turned off all the lights.

Still too bright.  I put out the candles.

Nope, not good enough.  I unplugged the tree.

And then we were standing in pitch black.

Corey called the police.
"I'd like to report a suspicious subject."

They put him on hold.

Meanwhile, creepster was walking up and down the school's steps.  He twirled a little bit.  Then he jumped the fence and headed back toward our building.

Still on hold....

He came back to the school.  Found a rock.  Oh no!  Is he going to use that rock to bust in the school's windows?!?

No.  He just wanted to stand on it and spin in circles.

Finally we get through to the cops.  Corey tells them what happened, but in running to find my phone and tape the whole strange scene I lost track of Dr. Creepy so we couldn't say which direction he went.

Dang.

After hanging up Corey decides to take the law in his own hands.  He suits up Oliver in his walk attire and the two of them head back downstairs.  For 20 freezing (literally) minutes they walk up and down the sidewalk looking for the perp.  A few cops drive by, but no one is able to locate the guy.

Corey finally came back upstairs.  He realized how cold he was.  All the excitement must have turned off some senses in order to heighten others.

Grown up cops and robbers will do that to a person.

....

What happened to Mr. McCreepin, you ask?

Not to worry.  We found out the next week our strange friend is actually a student at the school.

Yay.

My Thoughts, Exactly: Unecessary Thriftiness

This post is brought to you by my straw hair, my clumpy eyelashes and my new daily struggle against disheveledness.

Hello friends.

Stacie, here.

Save-a-buck Stacie.

Sends-in-$2-rebates-and-waits-four-months-for-the-check Stacie.

Picks-up-quarters-off-the-street-but-just-quarters-because-it's-not-worth-risking-hepatitis-for-a-nickle....I'm thrifty is what I'm trying to say here.

I also don't get to the point quickly.

But anybaddecision, I ran out of a few beauty products two weeks ago:  shampoo, and mascara.  Usually I'll go a few weeks using Corey's man shampoo and stepping out into the world with naked eyelashes, but I felt ambitious.  So I took a lunch trip to Target.

This is what I decided to get for my hair. It said "professionals" on the bottle and I remembered the commercials showing salon hair-doers using it and thinking it was super expensive. I said to myself, I says, "Stace, you know commercials don't lie. And if those hair-doers say this stuff is the best in the world you just might want to give it a shot."

So I did.

And it's awful.

Imagine my shock when I found my $1.50 bottle of shampoo left my hair complete dry and frizzy and generally yucky.

My advice is to avoid Suave's 2 in 1 shampoo, unless hot mess is the look you're going for.

...

Now, in that same Target trip I meandered down the make-up aisle. I literally dread buying mascara (which is why I go so long before buying a tube each time I run out) because it is just too expensive.

Seriously. You stick black goop into a teeny tube with a mini toothbrush stuck to the lid. Why does that cost $15? With this latest mascara purchase I wanted to prove to myself and to the world that it doesn't make a difference whether you're spending $15 at Clinique or $4.29 on Cover Girl.

Here's another surprise: it actually does.

My new "professional" mascara goes on in four very clumpy layers and then only comes off if I pull the entire eyelash out of my skin.

Now, I'm no professional, but shouldn't this process be a little, I don't know, easier?

Or prettier??

Save yourselves. And your eyelashes. Find your nearest Clinique counter, but only during bonus time because that's the only time you can justify to your husband why you just spent $30 on a tube of mascara the size of a tampon (and not even the heavy flow kind) and a one ounce jar of foundation.

"But just look at all this free stuff!"

Friday Confessions

1.  This is several weeks of confessions lumped together because:

• I kept forgetting it was Friday
• I kept forgetting the dumb things I did/said each week
• I sometimes get lazy

2.  But I have an excuse: I get carried away with everything the entire month of Christmas.

Except blogging.

3.  On one of the blogs I follow someone wrote "Whole Foods has a 'grow your own mushroom garden'".  I read: "grow your own mustache garden" and was totally psyched!

Even though I have no idea what a mustache garden would even look like.

4.  I ran into my favorite cashier (see #2) last week.  This time when he saw me he said, "oh it's you...how are you?" as coyly as a 17 year old can be.

5.  Last Monday I thought it was Friday.

6.  I ordered a few small gifts for Corey from Amazon.  They offer free shipping on some items as long as the entire order is over $25 but my order was only $24.42.  I broke down and bought the cheapest thing I could find.

7.  A used Don Juan Demarco DVD.

8.  It was for myself.

9.  A lot of people find Corey & Stacie by Google searching Devon Sawa. 

My first thought: how many obsessed 13-year-old girls in the mid-90s turned obsessed late twenty-somethings are there?

And my next thought: I wonder what he looks like today....

10.  I kid.  I already know what he looks like today.  (obsessed late twenty-something raises hand)

What?!.  Have you seen him in Little Giants??  A-dor-a-ble.

And then it's over...

Merry (belated) Christmas!!

In a whirlwind of Christmas activities I chose to neglect the blog.

No hard feelings though, several activities got the ax this year.

There were no Christmas cookies.

No holiday newsletter.

And my homemade gifts to all the families were less work than usual.

After a full year of blech (this is a sound effect word, I sometimes substitute actual words for sounds, don't judge) I needed to be able to enjoy this Christmas season.

And I did!

There still was a little flurry of activity toward the end, but I was still able to have actual conversations with people in which I could fully participate without scrolling through mental checklists, Corey and I were able to slip away to Lake Placid for a couple days (more on that tomorrow), and I could enjoy our church's Christmas Eve service.

People, you have no idea how necessary it was to (almost) end this year on a good note.

I may still make a huge, ginormous black X over 2011 in my mind forever and ever but for right now I can start 2012 in a pretty state of mind.

...

As long as the Giants beat Dallas on New Year's Day, of course.  More on that Tuesday after I've recovered from what looks like will be a long, cold night in New Jersey.

Ten on Tuesday

It's been awhile Ten on Tuesday....
1. What is your favorite online-only store?
Etsy.  A thousand times Etsy!  You can find handmade, unique, one of a kind items.  (like felted jewelry, shameless plug)  In second place: Amazon.


2. Do you enjoy wrapping gifts?
Yes, and I pride myself on my perfect corners.

However, if you've received a less-than-perfectly wrapped gift from me it's because I didn't feel like trying.  Nothing personal.

3. What is the temperature in your city today?
32.  Which is warm.  So warm I didn't bring a coat to add to the four layers I'm already wearing.  Yesterday at this time it was 20.

4. What time do you eat dinner?
Usually around 6:30 or 7:00....whenever Corey finishes making it.

Don't judge.

5. Will you be making New Years Resolutions?
Probably.  And I will probably forget about them by February.

6. How old is your oldest pair of shoes that you still wear?
I have a pair of sandals I bought my junior year of high school, so 13 years.  I can probably attribute their long life to me wearing grocery bags over my feet when it rained.

7. Do you have any restaurant phone numbers saved in your phone?
I have two: my favorite local eatery, GG Mama's and the Thai place for those intense pineapple fried rice cravings.

8. What is your favorite and least favorite letter to write in cursive?
I write in a combination of cursive and print.  I call it lazy hand.  So I only use what feels good scrolling across the page.  If I don't like how my cursive r's look, I don't use 'em.

This is by far the most random question I have ever been asked in. my. life.  Congrats Chelsea.

9. Do you know any good riddles?
Yes.  But I don't remember a single one of them.

I have the memory of an earthworm.

10. How do you feel about snow?
Love, love, love.  As long as I'm dressed for it.  Like head to toe thermal, waterproof everything, and I don't care if my hair gets frizzy.  I always say if it's going to be this darn cold, why not have a foot of snow to cover up all the brown?

Think about it...it makes sense.

...

Wonderful set of random questions by Chelsea, as usual!  Hop over to Roots and Rings to play along!

Christmas Songs!!!

It's no secret: I enjoy me some 12 Days of Christmas.

And Jingle Bell Rock.

And Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You.

But most especially 12 Days of Christmas.

Last year I posted one of my favorite versions as sung by the muppets.  And today I post another favorite as sung by a coupla crazy Canadians:

Enjoy (smiley face).

Christmas Cookies!!!

This post is brought to you by my mom.  On those days when I just don't have it in me I can always count on, "You know your last post was FRIDAY."

Thanks, mom.

I'm really excited about this week.  And for a number of different reasons:

• There is nothing going on at work.  I mean, there's stuff, but nothing urgent that can't wait until mid-January when everyone gets back into the swing of things.
• I am stress free.  I still have things to buy, wrap, and make but it's such a small manageable amount I can practically check everything off my list.  I mean, without actually checking it off because then, you know, it wouldn't get done.
• I'm on drugs.  Just kidding.  Bad joke.  Sorry.

Corey and I are so stress-free we took last weekend, as in the last weekend before Christmas, to travel up to his hometown and make gingerbread cookies with his mom.  It was a tradition that went back many, many years but Corey hadn't participated since we've been together.  He was literally giddy to go.

I'm going to mention a key part of this story here: Corey made three gingerbread men.

Three.

As in three out of several dozen.

The rest of the time he played with the dog, talked football with his dad, and told his mom, my sister, and me we weren't doing it right because none of them looked like his.

This is my life with a perpetual eight-year-old.

We had a good time anyway; me, his mom and my sister.  We were decoratin' fools!

And then we just got foolish.

But in our defense: there were a lot of cookies.  And there are just so many things you can do with a little brown cookie man. 

Eventually we turned some into ladies.

Well dressed ladies, if I might add.

I ended up with a well deserved stomach ache at the end of the day.  After so much decorating I opted to eat the last few cookies rather than paste 'em with frosting and more sugar. 

And then I ate several more the next day...for no good reason at all.

We drove home mid-day Sunday. 

Luckily there was football and laundry waiting for us to really top off a fabulous weekend.

(sarcasm font)

...

And now back to the Christmas grindstone...."weeeeeeeeeee wish you a Merry Christmas!"

No one told me it was Friday

Oh dear, look at the time.  I completely forgot it was Friday.

And if we're going to go there, I could also say I completely forgot it was Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday!

'Tis the season to lose your head in Christmas merriment and forget about daily routines like blogging and walking the dog and deodorant.  But now here we are just nine days away from the big day; the culmination of all this bustling.

(One could also say we're only eight days away from the dumbest day to leave your house.  On which day Corey and I will be fighting the crowds of NYC, but more on that later.  Like after I know we're going to make it home alive.)

So check back next year for a real Friday Confessions because until then I might only have to say stuff like how I'm not a fan of Michael Buble anymore because he has a potty mouth and that I got mad at Corey one night and told him what I got him for Christmas.

And then you'll hate me for being so mean.

Because, I mean, who doesn't have a potty mouth these days, right?

So until then, peace on earth and goodwill toward men.

Deck the halls with egg nog and more cookies please

And now all the news that's fit to put out on the Interwebs:

Corey and I had a few friends over to celebrate Christmas Saturday night.  It was a twist on our usual invite-everyone-we-know-and-hope-and-pray-none-of-them-spill-red-wine-on-the-couches Christmas event.  Instead we spent a few hours munching on appetizers before heading out to our favorite restaurant for dinner.

It's simple math: less people means less chances our furniture will get ruined.

But somewhere in that formula x = Corey's dropsies and amounts to a bottle of tonic exploding everywhere and our glass Pyrex measuring cup shattering.

...

One of our guests is responsible for making egg nog every year.  And I am responsible for drinking most of it.  This usually leads to complaining very loudly about how hot it is right where I am standing.

Bourbon has this horrible effect of tasting oh-so-good when the burny characteristics are masked over by raw egg.  You have a tendency to forget what you are drinking is going to make you tell secrets and laugh at inappropriate times.

Hypothetically, of course.

Another guest made cheese cookies, which is simply a combination of two of my most favorite things: cheese and cookies.  Duh.  There were chocolate crackle cookies (more of my favorite ingredients), veggies, dips and cheeses. 

Food weighs heavily in how I rank events.  And based on this year's weight gain I've had myself a grand time.

We made our dinner reservation for 9pm.  As in one hour before I usually drift off to sleep without a belly full of eggy bourbon.  I was able to stay awake and jolly through the jokes and stories and holiday merriment, but when the clock struck midnight my buggy turned back into a pumpkin and I nearly face planted into my chocolate lava cake.

My dear, sweet, I-can-function-just-fine-on-four-hours-of-sleep, husband stayed out with his friends while I crawled into bed at 12:45am.  It was a miracle I managed to also crawl into pjs.

Overall, it was a lovely time, we have some pretty great family and friends.

...

Annnnnd now it's time for Christmas frenzy.  Only 14 days to go, people.

Santa's crazy shopper, over and out.

Warm fuzzies for sale

Aside from a few confessions, like how I sometimes pick up the phone when I hear the front door open and that I married into Fraser Fir snobbery, I have very little else on the brain than Christmas.

I've heard a rumor that it's the most wonderful time of the year.

I'd have to concur.

This is also the first holiday gift-giving season my jewelry business, SJL Original, has really been out there, available to the masses.  Around this time last year I dabbled in different mediums; clay, wood, felt, wire before finally settling into the felt groove.

And my felt beads give me warm fuzzies inside and out.

So consider me tickled to be featured in the winter edition of Saratoga Living magazine written by interior designer and blogger Leah Margolis.

She gives us all the scoop on what's hot and affordable in and around our town, and although I'm quite proud of IRIS in mint with the shiny asymmetrical ball, I can't help but to wonder...

...what kind of mask is that?  Boy would a facial be most welcomed right about now.

You were thinking that too?

'Tis the season for treating your pores, that's what I always say.

But I digress.

I'm just happy (and thankful to Leah!) to be included with such wonderful gift ideas.  If you are in or around the Saratoga Springs area grab a magazine and shop around!

...

Thanks also to Petra at Anchor No. 5 in Troy, New York and to Christina at Sterling & Co. in Glens Falls, New York....may your stores be full of Christmas shoppers!

And may they all want fuzzy jewelry by me!

Lunchtime Tidbit

There's a guy in my office right now, he's fixing one of our doors.

He's probably thinking to himself, "Why can't that girl eat without getting food all over her face??"

Because I'm hungry, sir.

I hate salad

This post is brought to you by my truly horrendous lunch today.

Ever since my body realized I'm almost 30 and my metabolism retired to Del Boca Vista I've noticed a genuine need to watch what I eat.

But I ignored it.

And then my butt got big.

And then I went to a ladies Christmas program where I sampled 15 different desserts and had to unbuckle my pants to drive.

And then I tried to run on a bloated belly and found myself waddling and unable to breathe.

Time for ch-ch-ch-ch-changes, Stace!

So, on Saturday I bought myself some greens at our local farmer's market.  As an avoid-salad-at-all-cost eater I was unsure of which type of greens to purchase:  there were spiky greens and purple greens (?) and big greens and small greens and grass-looking greens.  The nice farmer suggested a mixed bag.  She said it was more of a spicy mix and that I would really enjoy it.

I hate it.

Yes, it is 100% the worst.

The spiky greens make my mouth tingle, the purple greens taste green and the other greens taste even greener than green.

My poor bottle of honey mustard put up a good fight but is completely under seasoned; it was definitely made to compliment another ingredient in the salad, one I am missing terribly.  I found myself today sitting at my desk with dressing all over my face and my mouth stuffed with my horrible mixed bag of lettuce I'm "really going to like" in an attempt to get it down as fast as possible and not actually taste one bite of it.

I may or may not have immediately afterward shoved a milk chocolate truffle in my mouth.

...

So in conclusion: I gave salad a chance.  Several chances, actually.  And now I'm going back to carbs and brownies and big butts and walking 5k races.

Don't judge.

New Developments

My family is wacky:

--My sister Kimberlie and I have a new way of communicating, we blink the Morse code (which neither of us actually knows) and then try to translate what the other is saying.

"Every Thursday you train your dolphin to fart cookies??"

What's worse: in a fit of blinks looking like you're pre-seizure or cackling in the middle of a ladies Christmas program at church?

--This same sister, in a serious conversation, said our grandmother's ashes are in a urinal.

She meant to say "urn."

--I sat down to talk to my dad in his office on Friday about some semi-serious stuff.  He interrupted me:

"Hold on, I need my thinking hat."

He then put on a fedora.

...

And Corey wonders why I am the way I am.

Friday Confessions

I pulled this post out of storage, it's a little dusty:




1. Sometimes I forget to keep track of things I need to confess. Like this week. Sorry in advance for the gobbledygook, or lack thereof, to follow.


2. The measured weight of my shampoo is 10.5 Fl. oz. I read this as ten point five floppy ounces. Because in my book, the abbreviation "FL" is always floppy.

3. In this weather my car goes from zero to sixty in five minutes.

4. I threw an apple in my purse, not knowing it would be swimming around in there with about eight perfume samples from the weekend. It tasted very much like Jimmy Choo's newest fragrance.

5. Corey threw out a jar of hot fudge that had at least a third still left. I may or may not have had a minor meltdown. But in my defense, when you're looking forward to hot fudge, chocolate syrup is just not an adequate substitute.

My dad will agree.

6. Speaking of my dad, we went out to breakfast this morning. I had the French toast...just like when he would take me out for breakfast Friday mornings when I was in fifth grade.

Awwww.

7. I've taken to defending Justin Bieber when slammed by co-workers, friends, people in line at the grocery store...

8. I'm jealous of people from the south. They have these cute little sayings that make any bad thing sound cute. Up here we just say what we're thinkin':

down there: "That girl is just two chickens short of a pot pie...y'all!"

up here: "She's dumb."

down there: " Well slap me silly at sunrise!"

up here: "I'm shocked."

down there: "You'll love it so much you'll wanna slap yer mama!"

up here: "It's good. Trust me."

Boooo-ring.

9. Because TV people are making more shows that are super sappy and aimed at emotional weirdos like me, my family thinks I'm preggo and just full of raging hormones.

10. I emailed a friend of mine about my busy day and how tired I was. I tried to write that I crawled in bed at 11pm but I started typing "crap." I know this is a little too much poo talk for one week, and I swear I'll take it easy for a day or two, but think about how that would have turned out...I crapped in bed?!?

**crickets**



Sheesh, tough crowd.

...

Visit Housewife Eclectic to link up and play along!

Extreme casual Thursday

And on a much lighter note, Corey was funny this morning.

The dear delivers my jewelry to one of the stores that sells it because it's close to his office.  This morning he was planning to make a drop but I wanted to take pictures of it all first:

"Have you taken pictures of the jewelry yet?"

"No."

"Well, I'm leaving right now."

"Corey, you're still in a towel."

Stacie says: "Love your animals, Please!"

I've put my stamp on this day: it's not going to be good.

I'll make this quick because I'm a total emotional basketcase when it comes to most certain things.

Like animals.

Oh I love me some animals.  And I've had plenty: dogs, fish, a rabbit, a guinea pig, a turtle, some lizards, a couple birds, ducks, ferrets and probably more I'm forgetting.

And when I see even the slightest hint of mistreatment I'm affected.

I saw a guy yell at his puppy for barking and then yank up on his collar while walking in Saratoga Sunday and I had to call Corey in tears.  I don't know why I'm like this, but I am.  Corey definitely doesn't understand it.

And today is the worst of it: a friend of ours has an appointment this afternoon to put her dog to sleep.

Her perfectly healthy seven year old dog.

I'm not going for "misery loves company" here, I have a point.

This dog, Dierks Bentley, is a pit bull that lead a much different life before he found his permanent home with our friend.  He was abused and mistreated and taught to be aggressive.  They were his formative years and so he carried this aggression with him.

Corey and I looked after him not too long ago.  He's sweet and loves to play, walk and chase squirrels.  His only flaw, besides shredding expensive comforters, is this strong desire to attack other dogs.  He got that chance on Sunday.  Due to a situation beyond our friend's control Dierks came into contact with a small dog and killed it.

So now he is going to die.  This afternoon.  I tried as hard as I could to find a better alternative; rehabilitation or placement at a farm far, far, far away from other dogs but what I found is that there are thousands of pit bulls in this same situation just in our region every single week. 

And they are put down too.

This is too much for me, people.  I hope it is too much for you too.

You don't have to be like Corey and me and have a special blanket so your dog can climb up on the couch because the floor is just not soft enough or make special trips for the treats he really likes.  But you should, at the very least, show your animals the respect they deserve as contributing member of your household.  Because they do provide in some way; either through companionship, protection or entertainment.

To treat them any other way is cruel and always leads to pain further down the road.

Let people know that.

My Thoughts, Exactly: hair care

Is it just me or is everyone talking about new methods for green hair care and face wash?

Or maybe I just have bunches of blog friends who think just. like. me. in that they want to remove unnecessary and harmful chemicals from their daily lives.

...but not just like me in taste of music.

Jump Around?

House of Pain?

Anyone?

Anyone?

...

As I usually do, I jumped blindly onto the green beauty bandwagon.

Rub baking soda all over my head?

Dunk my hair in vinegar?!

You Know It!!

No, these are actually pretty popular methods of green cleaning.  And for most people they probably work just fine.

Maybe even better than your usual shampoo and conditioners.

But not for me.

Sigh.

I had high hopes thanks to Ashley and Kathryn, but it wasn't meant to be.

Or maybe I was just doing it wrong.

The first day I tried my new hair washing routine was last Wednesday.  Also known as the day before Thanksgiving.  I started out with a little over a tablespoon of baking soda, I made a little paste with water and rubbed it all over my head.  I missed the sloshiness of shampoo, but I wasn't sending weirdo chemicals down the drain and into my skin so I carried on.

I don't have overly greasy hair and I don't have dry hair, and this was the day after the day after I last washed my hair.  Normal for me.

My hair felt a little greasy.  I didn't exactly know what to expect so I went to the next step: apple cider vinegar conditioner.  I'd been conditioning this way for a week, ever since I ran out of my store bought conditioner.  I didn't notice a difference.

Yes I did.  The stuff stinks.  Real bad.  It's vinegar.  Luckily the smell goes away once my hair dries, but sometimes I let the day do the dryin' so I carry a pretty nasty smell with me to work.

By Thanksgiving morning I assessed the grease situation and thought I'd better do another "shampoo" because it was, after all, Thanksgiving and if I was going to be seeing a ton of relatives I needed to look my best.

I wasn't overly greasy, but there was more than I'm used to on day 2 of my normal hair washing schedule.

You see me as one big grease-ball now, don't you.

It gets better.

I get ready for my shower.  I "lather up" my baking soda and smear it all over my head.  I work it into my problem areas.  I rinse and "condition".  Then I go about my morning.

I spent the next few minutes bragging about my new "green" efforts to my friend and how cool it is to care about the environment.

Then I blow dried my hair.  You know, to be pretty.

When I run my hands through the back of my head I find enough grease to fry an egg.

Grrrooooooosssss.

Ohmigosh, ohmigosh what do I do??

...

First I felt stupid...and dirty.  Then I closed the door so my friend wouldn't find me and laugh.  My ultimate solution was to put a generous amount of water onto my hair and sweep it up into a tight bun.

"What happened?  I thought you dried your hair??"

"It didn't work out weshouldprobablygorightnow."

Of all days.  Sheesh! 

So now we have lovely pictures of all the cousins (and cousins-in-law, ahem) in our holiday best and me with my hair slicked back with nature's hair goo.

In conclusion...don't let my experience detract you from doing your duty to save our planet, just know all fantastic results are not typical.

...

Or maybe you should make sure you're doing it right in the first place.

I honestly still don't know if I was.  Whoopsie!

Ten on Tuesday

A nice set of randoms (my fave!) from Chelsea at Roots and Rings to start off what I thought was Wednesday.

1. Do you wear glasses, contacts, or are you one of those perfect eyed people?
Back in sixth grade I thought it was so cool how my friend Wendy would push her glasses up by the nose piece and I wanted to be able to do it too.

I've worn glasses ever since.

Moral of the story: be careful what you wish for.


2. What is the next item you are going to purchase?
Supplies to make jewelry from which I will actually make money, so is this really a trick question??

3. Have you ever watched Judge Judy or any other real court show?
I have about thirty Matlocks on my DVR right now, so, um, yeah.  I watch court shows.

4. How do you feel about fake nails?
I think they're pretty.  But I have some fantastically hard nails that are in a shape I can live with so I probably will never indulge.  Unless I come across some Lee press-ons in leopard print I can wear for a day.

5. What is your favorite sport to watch?
Tricky, tricky: I'll watch just about anything live.  But on TV it has to be a special occasion; my Boilermakers in the NCAA championship, Giants, Saints or Colts at a sports bar, Super Bowl, or Yankees in the playoffs.

6. If you could create your own Ben & Jerry’s ice cream flavor, what would it be and what would it be named?
Chocolate Explosion: chocolate ice cream, with ribbons of fudge, brownie chunks and pop rocks....so it feels like your mouth is actually exploding.

7. Do you have any scars?
I have a scar next to my right eye brow (my right) from going to town on a chicken pox bump, and then I have a scar on my left knee (my left) from when my dad and I raced home from kindergarten and I fell and slid across the cement.

Oh, and then there's the mark where I had my belly button ring.

Don't judge.

8. Does your pet’s name fit them? Is there a more appropriate name?
I like non-traditional names, so I would say Oliver, being a non-traditional spazoid goofball, is plenty appropriate.

9. What is your favorite television show theme song?
Golden Girls.

"Thank you for bein' a friennnnnd.  Traveled down the road and back again; your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant..."

Inspirational.

10. What was your favorite activity on the playground?
I've always been a fan of tag, but for awhile in 4th grade I spent my time on the bars.  I swung around on those things like a pro doing all kinds of tricks for the other kids.  But then I realized I could fall on my face and that was it.

Gobble Gobble

Where do I begin?

I mean, Thursday was technically the gateway into the holiday season, and that's kind of a big deal so of course I'm going to have a story or five to tell.

But where do I begin?!

...

My BFF came into town Wednesday night with her toddler, Lucy.  It was unplanned, but not unwelcomed.

Just....unplanned.

Have I mentioned Corey and I do not have children?

Or that our "baby proofing" previously consisted of moving items that would be attractive to a Golden Retriever mouth?

A few mistakes:

• left Oliver-dog's food bowls on the floor
• left wool for felting on ottoman

If you put two and two together you get a few necklaces and bracelets smelling like salmon and beef jerky.

We did our usual two meals on Thanksgiving.  First with my family where I swore I would not stuff my face, but stuffed my face anyway, and then with Corey's family where I had no more room to stuff.

So I stuffed my pockets.

Just kidding.  But, seriously, I wish I had.

On Friday I replaced my dad's and my traditional 3am Black Friday outing for an 11am shove match at the outlet mall where I found a pair of red corduroy stretchy pants at Banana Republic for $10.  I'm so glad I like the clothes no one else wants.  I lean toward stretchy now that my Summer of Carbs has turned into a Fall of Cookies and I'm getting all squishy.

By then our house was baby free and in the afternoon while Corey let loose with the vacuum I was able to felt my way to arthritis.  The process I now use involves stabbing small balls of wool with special needles, so I guess it was appropriate that I stabbed away to the 48 Hours Mystery marathon on TLC.

The rest of our holiday weekend was slow and uneventful.

I declared Saturday to be a day of inside projects and that is where I stayed.  Inside.  Washing sheets, felting, eating and not showering.  And on Sunday I accidentally got a spatula stuck in my stand mixer and flung cookie dough across the kitchen.

Corey was mad.  I think he's glad I'm back to work and away from his kitchen where I tend to make messes.

I made quite a few messes.

First with the two pumpkin pies.

Did you know I have this thing about making my pies from scratch?  It takes me three hours and I do actually get flour on everything, including the dog.

Then I made a green bean casserole.

Did you know I have this thing about making my cooking projects more difficult than they need to be?  I may or may not have sent Corey on a mission for bacon Thanksgiving morning.

Then I made dog treats for each of the ten dogs we encounter in our whirlwind, cross county Thanksgiving tour.

Did you know I have this thing about turning myself into Martha Stewart?  Fancy packaging, dog bone labels, wood basket and all?

Lord help me if I were to ever be a full time housewife.

And Lord help my waistline.

But now, finally, I'm back to work.  The daily grind.

...counting down the days until the next round of holiday madness.

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.

Friday Confessions

1.  I had a few bobby pins sitting on my desk.  I almost used them as paper clips.

2.  While running last week I definitely saw a thong hanging by a rear view mirror.

3.  I thought it was a baby hat.  A shiny red baby hat.

4.  When we first moved to Indiana I begged my mom to let us stay home for our very first "snow." 

It was frost.

5.  I remember what I meant by my Confessions note last week: pig squeeze poo.  It was another crazy awkward google keyword search.

I wish I could remember where I wrote those words.  It must be hilarious.

6.  I would also like to know where I referred to an "intestine train."

Also hilarious.

7.  I saw a People.com headline about the Jonas Brothers considering a reunion.

I was unaware they are not still together.

And I am shocked no one told me.

8.  If I won the lottery I would by a very large air compressor for my mom.

9.  I caused a powdered cheese explosion in my parents' kitchen.  Pressure + powdered cheese packet + rushing to finish making dinner before Bible study = cheese all over stove and kitchen floor.

Whoopsie.

10.  I eat boxed macaroni and cheese.  The kind in the shape of bunnies.

...

Happy Friday!!

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."

We Want To Know: Can You Sing??

{1} Do you have any musical talents?
I played the trombone in my high school's marching, jazz and concert bands (geek alert).  It was one of those instruments where you could spot pretty easily who did and did not know their stuff.

"Hey, why is that girl with the frizzy hair and glasses not moving her slide like the rest of 'em??"

{2} What role, if any, does music play in your life?
Very little.  I don't play my trombone anymore (seriously, it's a trombone) and I don't have the radio on much.  I figure, if I'm going to have something that sucks my attention I'd rather it be a TV show about zombies, polygamy, or the state of prison systems across America.

(i have varied interests...)

{3} What is your all time favorite song?
It changes day by day.  At the moment: House of Pain's Jump Around.

{4} Do you sing in the shower?
Sometimes I hum in the shower.  I save the real singing for the car where I know no one can hear me.
{5} Has a song ever made you cry?
Movies make me cry, TV shows make me cry, commercials make me cry...so I'm pretty sure at some time a song has made me cry.

...

Thanks to Mamarazzi, Queso and Crazymama for hosting!

Embarrassing Moment #1096

A word of caution: hopping over a fence is not as effortless as you think it should be.

"Yeah, all I have to do is grab hold of this top part here and throw my legs over the side there and bippidy boppidy here I am.  Other side."

You see where this is going.

...

I walk Oliver-dog most mornings; we take different routes depending on how much time we have and whether or not O has been cooped up for days because of weather and extreme digestion that necessitated me being within close proximity to "the facilities" at all times.

Hypothetically.

Today's route took us to a small park at a rec center where I can throw a ball and my little spazoid can frolic and run without me needing to do more than stand in one place.

In this park is a water feature for the kiddies; a round cement area where bursts of water squirt up little behinds and into eyes and for some reason they love it.  But because we're so close to winter the feature is covered with a tarp and blocked off with a flimsy three foot fence made of wooden stakes.

That detail is important later.

So there dork-brains and I are; me throwing the ball, he running wild with lips and eye lids flapping.  If you know me at all, you can imagine a 20ft in diameter cordoned off space is just the type of target I'm able to hit when I'm not trying to hit it.

Of course, the dang ball lands right in the middle of the tarp.  I stand there and ponder two very difficult choices:

1. leave the ball because it's a tennis ball for goodness sake and you have about a dozen lost in the bushes behind your apartment.
2. get the ball because it's just right there and you know how much you hate to waste and that ball could be worth, like, a whole quarter.

Number two wins.  I find a saggy part of the fence and hop the two feet over into the tarped area.  No problem.

But there was a problem.  The fence sagged inward, which means the wooden spikes were now facing me and I would most certainly impale myself if I tried to go out the same way.  So as I started to panic about being trapped I considered other options.

Luckily it was only 7am; there was one car in the parking lot and it most likely belonged to someone in the neighborhood who left it overnight.  I was alone in my ridiculousness.

At least that's what I was hoping.

I move around to a more sturdy side of the fence, test out the wires looping the stakes together and decide I would just have to hoist myself up and over.

(this was after trying to grab hold of the top and bounce my way over, realizing I can only pick my legs up two feet)

I jam my foot in between the stakes on top of the wire and set myself up.  I get my right leg over and I'm almost proud of myself when my left foot gets stuck in the fence and I end up dangling by one of the stakes.  I pull my right butt muscle as I'm in a near-split trying to free my foot.  Foot finally clears but my leg was stuck on the stake.  More stretching, aaaaaaaand release.

I start to think how that so was not worth it when I hear:

"You know, I wouldda used a stick or somthin'."

Oh dear sweet bubbalicious.  This man watched the entire thing.

"So you saw...all that?"

"Yeah..."

"Ok, well I'm out now, so....OLIVER!"

And off we went, with a slight limp and several splinters in my butt.

...

Oh, and after all that, my darling dog managed to lose the ball.

Communication Nightmare

In the middle of an argument on how I'm so mad that Corey never listens to me he interrupts me to say:

"Why don't you just tell me what you're mad at??"

I have. no. words.

A Plea To All My Girlfriends

Hey ladies, can we stop trying to kill chivalry here?

Srsly.

I know we all think we can do anything the boys can do and we don't need nobody treating us like sissy girls who need a man to kill spiders and open up those tricky mayonnaise jars.

But, um...I can't do everything the boys can do.

And, uh....I would prefer to be treated like the hormonal, irrational, physically weaker girl that I am.

Boy am I glad to get that out!

Yep.  I have scrawny little arms more suited for whipping up meringues than pouring concrete.  Were I required to join a profession that called for manual labor I would fall behind.  That's just a fact.  I can show you my arms, they're pretty worthless.

So, as I am oh-so-secure in my daintiness,  I would appreciate a little recognition of the hours spent making said desserts with a door held open.

"Why thank you sir, and may the Lord bless you with a wife, mother, daughter, niece, nice lady neighbor, etc. willing to share her lady skills like listening to you complain about your job, complimenting your new hair cut or bringing you hot chocolate as you shovel snow."

I also, as a girl, suffer from the little known ailment: raging hormones and enough estrogen to cause me to cry like a baby during Cheaper by the Dozen and While You Were Sleeping.  I view the world with my emotions and I am moved easily. 

With that said, I would like to be spoken to like the fragile thing that I am, on the verge of cracking....which I may or may not be depending on the day.

Or hour.

I like to be offered a place to sit.

I like the bacon brought home.

And I like protection from the dark, serial killers, and zombies.

So whoever is spreading the rumor that none of us gals like to be treated like gals please leave your generalizations in your pockets so I can be who I am; hormones, weak arms, chocolate hoarding, and all.

Thanksomuch.

Ten on Tuesday

Happy Election Day!! 

Read.  Then go VOTE.

1. What’s your favorite television show for each day of the week?
Monday: DVRed Sister Wives
Tuesday: New Girl
Wednesday: Modern Family
Thursday: Parks and Rec
Friday: whatever crime show marathon happens to be on

I watch too much TV.  But if you try to take away my shows I'll go crazy monkey on your face.


2. How many times do you wear your jeans before you watch them?
Quite a few, but that's only because I only wear them for a couple hours before getting back into jammies.

I will be putting Pajama Jeans on my Christmas list this year.  My two favorite things in one.

3. What is your favorite pasta shape?
Spiral.  It keeps me young.

And when I was a kid I would swallow them whole thinking they were made to spiral down your throat.

4. Do you read newspapers?
Everyday at work.  For the same reason I read actual books and not those e-reader contraptions all the young people keep walkin' around with.
5. Do you sleep in socks?
I start sleeping in socks.  But because my body is a human electric blanket I kick them off.

I don't always find both socks right away.

6. Favorite genre of movies?
Ummmm, probably a tie between comedy and romantic comedy.

I like to keep things silly.

7. How do you feel about wrestling?
Nope.  Don't like it one bit.  I'm too afraid someone's gonna break their neck.

I have this fear of breaking my neck.  It's in my top 10.  Weird.

8. Should men pluck their eyebrows?
Some men should.  The ones who have unibrows.  I don't think it's necessary to pluck to shape the brow.

9. Do you have dimples?
I have a couple.  My mother-in-law pokes at them.

But I have confessed I would like to poke a chin dimple so I can't really fault her.

10. Do you like to camp?
I love, love, love to camp.  Love it.  Love.  I would do it right now if someone could assure me I would not be cold every single second of it.  You know, with it getting down to 20 degrees at night...

...

Happy Tuesday!  Visit Chelsea for some more randomness!

Weekend Wrap Up: Food and Food

I can literally sum up Corey and my entire weekend in 11 bullets.

• horse racing (a little thing called Breeder's Cup....uh, hello?)
• sewing class
• food
• jammies
• cold
• power outage
• felting
• bridal expo
• walk
• jammies
• zombies

Yaaaay.

There was some excitement when on Saturday I thought it was Sunday, and had to remind myself that I still had one more day in my weekend.

And then there was more excitement when I remembered Sunday night that I have election day and veteran's day off.

And then I was a bucket of nerves watching my zombie show.

Seriously, this thing is getting just a little too real for me but I just have to see what happens to Rick and his band of zombie killers, especially now that Lori is pregnant.

The end of the world is not a good time for maritals.

But I digress.

I was ok with our lack of plans.  With Christmas and all those other holidays coming I doubt we'll have too many more commitment free days.  And I got a bunch of felting out of the way.  So much so that I'm finding aches in muscles I didn't know I had.

The price of hard work....(sigh.)

And Corey had time to make one killer meal including dessert.  He told me to take a picture of it (brought some with me for lunch today) for all the Internets to see.  But I devoured it, making my usual sloppy eating noises, and before I knew it my bowl was empty.

You'll just have to take my word for it.  Awesome food for an awesomely quiet weekend.

The End.

Friday Confessions

1.  I write myself little notes so I can remember what I need to confess for the week.  But I have no clue what "pig squeeze poo" is supposed to mean.

It was probably a great story.

2.  I tried.  Oh boy did I try.  But I just can't make myself like that George Stephanopoulos.

3.  My dad's mom has always reminded me of Betty White....a Mexican Betty White.

4.  Last week or so I mentioned I could watch Christmas Vacation non stop for the rest of my life, or something to that effect.  I am adding Baby Mama to that list.

5.  And Don Juan DeMarco.

6.  In my old age I'm starting to forget when to use affect and effect.

7.  I am also losing the ability to care.

8.  When the construction crew was pulling up the sidewalks at my office I was unable to keep my eyes off the action.  I may have missed my life's calling.

9.  Corey has a horrible habit of forgetting where he put his phone when he walks in the door.  In one of the latest frantic searches I said it's probably somewhere strange like in the fridge.  He looked in the fridge.  No, no, like the fridge.

It was in the laundry basket.

10.  My latest quirk: I sing random songs all day long.

"Everybody's workin for the weekend..."

...

Happy Friday!

We Want To Know: How You Celebrate!

{1} How did you celebrate Halloween? Trick or treating? Adult party? Trunk or treat?
First let me say I am loving this new trunk or treat thing, and I can just picture the cool mom's trunk overflowing with candy.  Mmmm....Snickers.  But no, this Halloween I did nothing.  We do, however, have a costume lined up for O-dog next year:

{2} What candy is your favorite/the first thing you steal from the kids?
If I had kids from which to steal candy, first would come the Smarties, followed by Dots, and then Tootsie Roll Pops.

You thought I was going to say chocolate.

I know.  Sometimes I surprise myself.


{3} What kind of candy do you give out, is it your favorite? or something you know you won't be tempted to eat?
We don't live in a trick-or-treat friendly building.  That's the life of an apartment dweller.  But if we were to hand anything out I wouldn't be the one to buy it.  Corey would beat me to it by several months and we would be handing out king size candy bars.


{4} How soon after Halloween do you take down decorations and put away costumes?
I set out fall decorations, not Halloween specific.  I'm already plenty afraid I'm going to find real ghosts and zombies wandering around my apartment in the dark.

{5} When do you decorate for the next holiday?
We'll put up our Christmas tree soon after Thanksgiving.  And we usually leave a few days after New Year's Day.  There's a real emotional void around that time, so it's hard to give up the last reminant of a whirlwind holiday season.

...

Yay for the most wonderful time of the year!!

Morning

God bless Corey.

Seriously.  Bless the stuff out of him.

I had myself a morning this morning.  Oh yes sir, I was on the border of a mental breakdown and poor Corey was on the other end of it:

"(blubber blubber blubber) my clothes don't fit!! (blubber blubber blubber) what am I supposed to do with my life?! (blubber blubber) we never eat vegetables! (blubber blubber blubber blubber) my hair is so plain and ugly!! (blubber blubber blubber) and then there's my face! (blubber blubber)..."

Pause.

".....Beetle, we can start eating veggies."

Goodness gracious, through the phone I could almost hear him trying to think of the right response.

Boy did he hit that nail on the head.

Weekend Wrap Up: Rednecks and Ghost Stories

Happy belated Halloween everybody!!

I hope it was spooktacular to whatever degree in which you are most comfortable!  My Halloween was a tad less than thrilling this year.  There was some felting, I cleaned out a closet, saw a few trick-or-treaters walk by, ventured out into a downtown establishment where I played the mental game of "is that wart real or fake?", and then snuggled into bed with Oliver and Matlock.

Edge-of-your-seat kind of stuff.

But that's what most people expect when Halloween falls on a stinkin' Monday.

Now, my Halloween weekend?  That was fun.

Thirty minutes of it, to be exact.

My sister Kimberlie and I have a standing date at the Double M Haunted Hayride every October.  There's a field, a tractor, some hay and mayhem.  I wouldn't call it knock-yer-socks-off (or as my friends to the south say: I wouldn't want to slap my mama) but a good time, nonetheless.

Our ritual: we meet at my apartment, laugh about how many layers we're wearing (3 pairs of pants this year, a record), make scream faces for the camera, and giggle all the way to the farm.  We had an extra this year, Kimberlie's friend Logan who proved to be a good fit in our night of shenanigans.

Shenanigans that started the second we sat down on that flat-bed.

"'OMG I'm at the Haunted Hayride!!' Now as soon as you're done texting your BFF put your cell phone in a zippered pocket!"

Jolly security guards, priceless.

"I just soaked through ALL layers of my pants."

It was snowing, by the way, and the hay was wet.  We did not pee our pants prior to the hayride.

Or during, actually.  To clarify further.

So we ride around.  Dead bodies jumped out at us, zombie school children followed us around, we even saw the headless horseman:

"Awwww, can I pet the horse?"

Fail.

Being oh-so-slightly wound, I jumped at the slightest movement.  I also screamed loudly.  My whole body is still sore from the tension that came from knowing something was going to jump out at me and force me to scream right in my neighbor's ear.

It's one of those reflexes I just cannot control.

But all of that is plain fun!  I love being scared, one night a year.

In the last part of our hayride we encountered a redneck village full of dilapidated trailers and cannibal toothless wonders.  Men in overalls and flannel ran out of their homes screaming at us, and some even followed our tractor!

One of these bufoons startled Logan and she screamed.

Logan: "I'm sorry!"

Kimberlie: "Did you just apologize for screaming?"

Redneck:  "It's because she farted."

Everyone within earshot: "Hahaha!"

Redneck: "Hey...(to the person leading our group) be careful, this one right here FARTED."

After we de-tractored I heard a few people whispering:

"That's the girl who farted."

Poor Logan.

But all fart jokes aside, this year's adventure was my favorite.

The rest of the night include a haunted house, ice cream and enough of The Shining to reach and exceed my creep tolerance, about an hour and a half.

And now I'm set until next year.

Friday Confessions

1.  Last week in my office I uttered the words, "Is that mouse poop??"

**shudder**

2.  I'm not afraid of mice, for the record, but I do get the heebie-jeebies thinking of what else might have mouse doodie all over it.

3.  My co-worker's computer crashed while helping me with research. 

...on erectile dysfunction.  Apparently the appropriate medication for such condition is not covered by Medicaid.

My job is fun.

4.  I can't imagine the Google search keywords that will bring people here now.

5.  Currently, readers find me by searching arm fat crease, "my uterus", and brownie turds.

6.  I made phone reservations last week and called in to check on them Monday.  They had my name written down as "Stacie Roofus."

7.  Also on Monday I had pie with ice cream for dinner.

8.  I then had pie for dessert.

Because I'm an adult now.

9.  There is snow on the ground.  Right now.  And I'm not sure how I feel about it.  No, no, I am happy and excited for all kinds of snow-related activities, but why no easing into it?

10.  Yesterday I could not identify a picture of Vice President Joe Biden.  I am a sad American.

...

Happy Friday, y'alls!

Working Conditions

I've lost my focus for the day.

 There's just something about a heavy piece of machinery that makes me want to hop in and take it for a spin.

Seriously, how hard could it be?

If The History Channel Says It Can Happen...

Remember this list?

Remember how I said I'm a tad nervous, although irrationally, that I just might find a zombie standing in my shower waiting to take a big bite out of my trapezius?

(that's the muscle in your neck leading to your shoulders and back.  i don't know, i just imagine this to be the most convenient place to bite...)

Remember what channel The New Girl is on?  Because I can't seem to find it....

But I digress.

I am still 99% sure a zombie invasion is not right around the corner, and I'm still convinced there is something real silly about turning on all the lights and checking my closet just in case, but when it's dark outside, and I'm all alone...

...and The History Channel airs a program interviewing scientists (scientists of all people!) who say a zombie take over is possible and people should be prepared....

....and there are actual people out there (Zombie Squad) who train for this type of event....

....and I just happen to see the numbers "666" twice in one day....

I get a little nervous.  Like "Oliver, run upstairs and get your ball so I can see if you get startled by someone being there who shouldn't be there" nervous.

Or "I'll make a lot of noise with this giant stick in my hand to draw them out of their hiding places" nervous.

(we have sticks in our apartment, but i swear they are usually only used for decoration)

One day I'll grow up.

...

Today is not that day, my friends.

To Snickers, Or Not To Snickers

You know how there are some days you wish you had taken your own advice that morning and hid a Snickers bar in your purse and forced yourself to forget about it so that you could stumble upon it at that magical three o'clock hour where your chocolate/junk craving is at it's worst?

Today is that day.

Ten on Tuesday

Something funny is going on in this week's Ten on Tuesday....someone has babies on the brain!

1. What is the worst compliment you have ever received?
I'm sure there have been plenty of cringe-worthy compliments, but all I can think of are times my attributes were made fun of: like when my Grandpa Danny would call me bugle lips.  Or when my classmates would laugh at my soccer sweatshirt that said "All Star Stacie" on it.

Don't cry for me.  It didn't hurt my feelings for a second.

Boy do I miss those carefree, self-confident days!

2. Did you/would you tell everyone the name of your baby before they were born, keep it a secret, or not choose until after they were born?
No kids here.  And I can't say for sure what we will or won't do, but I know I probably won't want to reveal a name until it's hatched.

Now the gender on the other hand, I'm not sure I'll want to keep that a secret...even from myself!

3. What is your favorite candle smell?
Christmas Tree.  We already have one going in our apartment.

4. What is the best birthday/Christmas gift you received when you were pregnant or the best birthday/Christmas gift you gave a pregnant person that was really appreciated?
Well.....I haven't known too many preggos, but for the few I have gotten gifts for I'm sure the bottles, crib sheets, and socks came in handy at some point.

5. Who was your favorite teacher?
Most of the teachers I had in Indiana (6th-12th) were wonderful.  Mr. Culp did magic tricks, Mrs. Greene is the nicest person I've ever known, Mr. Larimer let us call him Ebola Stan and play tricks on other science classes, Mr. Kirkton told lame math jokes and listened to Hank Williams during class, Mr. Jones, Peterson, Spradling, and Golden as my band teachers I spent more time with than my own parents.

The list, literally, goes on and on and on and....

6. What is the best game/activity you have ever played at a baby shower?
I'm a fan of the game where you eat chocolate out of diapers and try to guess what kind it is.  It combines my love of bathroom humor and chocolate into one tacky activity.

7. What was your major in college and did you end up using it in your career?
I was a communications major in college and yes I do use my skills in my current job because I am required to communicate.

Lame.

8. What is a beauty product you swear by?
I am in love with Crabtree & Evelyn's pomegranate body lotion.  It makes my skin silky smooth, but the best part is the clean, slightly fruity smell (I am not a fruity smell kind of person) that stays with me for-ev-er.

Call me crazy, but I like to smell good.

9. What is the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you?
For me?  Hold open a door?  I don't remember, but I have seen over a thousand strangers work toward giving Special Olympics athletes the time of their lives.  That's pretty special.

10. If you could recommend one new baby necessity, what would it be?
A momma and daddy that love each other.  Other than that, I've got nuthin'.

You know, because all Corey and I have is a dog...

...

Play along, link up over at Chelsea's!

Weekend Wrap Up: Olympians and Football

Stacie: A+ weekend, could not have been better.

Corey: pppsshhhhh, glad that's over.

Obviously, not everyone is going to have a super fabulous time every single minute of every single day.  That's why it's so great when there are a series of good things that last over several consecutive minutes.

Unfortunately, Corey had to work Saturday and Sunday on a huge last minute project for his bosses.  And this is after working non-stop on a previous huge last minute project.  The last thing anyone wants to do after days of stress is to commit to a weekend of stress.

But he did it, and only slightly resisted.

What a trooper.

Lucky for him, 'tis the season for so much football you'll want to poke your eyes out with a rusty fork.

...or is it just me?

So he had not one, not two, but (what felt like) a million games to watch both afternoons.  Yaaaay.

My weekend, on the other hand, was full of goodness.  My activities were ooooozing goodness.

I was fortunate enough to hook up with Special Olympics for their state games held near my town on Saturday where I was stationed at the golf event.  I followed around two athletes and their coaches as they played an alternate shot, 9-hole round.

My job was to keep score and make sure they followed the rules.  Although I do still play golf, I can't say I've actually played by the rules since my days on my high school's team.  So my knowledge of the nit-picky stuff was rusty.

We didn't run into too many problems.  Only about a dozen lost balls.

And one very. large. water hazard.

Later on in the day, maybe it was within hour three of the four hour round of 9-holes, one of the athletes and I started talking about Halloween:

me: "So, do you dress up for Halloween?"

D: (looks at me for a second) "I'm 37 years old."

me: (taking foot out of mouth)

D:  "I have to find a girlfriend."

Nice job, Stace.  But we were still friends, and I cheered like a crazy lady when he won a silver medal later in the day.

After a full day of golf and golf activities I had me one heck of a night relaxing on the couch, eating a Moe's burrito and razzleberry pie.  This was followed by a lovely lunch with my family after church on Sunday and an afternoon of (more) football with Corey and the gang.  Of course, I ended my night with more razzleberry pie with ice cream and apple crisp on the side.

Great.  Great, great, great, great, great.

"Yeah, it was alright...."