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

Some things I was thinkin'

A coupla things to chew on until I post next:

(which could be next week, so read slowwwwwly)

There is a colony of the scariest type of bug somewhere in our apartment.

There are very few things that scare me like the centipede does.  I can handle bugs, spiders, snakes and rodents.  But these suckers give me the heebie jeebies like no other.

"Where was that bug you saw last night?"

"Behind the tv.  He ran back and forth from the tv to the couch.  Corey, he was taunting me."

"I don't see it..."

"Well I'm sure he's moved by now!"

"Oh, wait!  I see him!  Look, there's two, three.  Three!  Oh it's a family!"

"Very funny."

Right about now I'm so glad I don't have to worry about a colony of creepy crawlers making a home in my shoes.  Sandals, I'm guessing, just aren't the habitat they look for.

Phew.

Another thing I think you should know is that I have the foggiest brain right now.  It's hilarious.

Hmmm...I don't remember finishing that one Ten on Tuesday question.

I did.

"Hey Stace, can you call so-and-so about such-and-such?"

"Yes."

(five minutes later)

"Um, hi.  Who was I supposed to call again?"

Hilarious.

Wait, did I spell that right?

My dad and I had breakfast this morning, as we do several times a week, to go over more details for the Coming Together For Hope event:

"So, we might not have a dunk tank."

"Eh."

"Or a Wii tent."

"Coo."

"And our grand finale band backed out."

"Whatev."

Hil-ar-ious.

...

Space cadet, over and out.

Empty

I know we've been over this before, but I'll just share what's on my mind:

Sometimes I just don't have anything to say, yo.

And I've had nothing to say All.  Day.

Although technically I could have said things like: Hey, my purse smells like a dirty car.  But where would that have gone?  I'll tell you where, a place I don't normally like to go.

I also could have told you about how I wore my rain boots to work, expecting it to rain, and that it didn't actually rain any more than thirty minutes at 9am.  But would you have cared?

Of course you would have.  You nice souls, you.

(Except for that Stacey girl who posts pictures of me sleeping.)

(Hehe, uh, just kidding Stace.  I kid, I kid....and I'm a little afraid of you.)

We could have delved into the mysteries of the universe and you could have gone on and on about the meaning of our existence on this big rockin' world and I would have said, "funny thing about those hippos, huh?  What's up with that?"  And then you would have gotten mad because you'd realize I'm about as deep as a paper cup.

So, really, it's best that I just keep myself to myself some days.  For both our sake.

Hasta manana, hombres.

A List.

This is a Monday list. 

Don't try to make sense of the thing.

• I went to bed at 7:45pm last night.
• I have no fewer than seven hair ties in my purse.
• Thanksgiving is this week, not next as I thought all last week.
• I am now behind.
• I am wearing the same outfit I wore to church yesterday.
• I don't remember if I ate dinner last night.
• No, wait....I had a Moe's burrito.
• Saturday I forgot to wash my hair.
• I hide from my dog in the park.
• He flips out and I laugh.
• I want a cat.
• Corey and I are going to look for houses after Christmas.
• I'm looking for houses now.
• Thursday is the Turkey Trot 5k in Saratoga.
• Last time I ran 3 miles I screwed up my knee.
• I'm not a runner.
• My dishwasher is coating some dishes with white gunk all of a sudden.
• Corey bought me a container of milk yesterday that expires tomorrow.
• This morning he said "put A LOT of milk in that cereal."
• I did, but there's still A LOT left.
• I like making lists.
• It's easier than writing full sentences.
• Plus, it lets you see how random my thought process is.
• And I know you were dying to see the inside of my think-meat.

So, there we are.  A list.  To be followed by something with a little more substance, a little more grass-fed meat and potatoes, if you will.

But until then, Happy Monday!

No Connection Mondays

Friday I was home sick.

I was sick of sitting at my desk the entire week with nothing to do but search the Internet for a thousand different ways to make a stinkin' fabric flower.

By the way, when did the world wide web get so big?

So, I took a mental health day that actually started as a real sick day.  Headache.

I walked around town a little, did some chores, then I spent the rest of the day reading with no make up.

Ladies, if you've never tried reading without your face on I would highly recommend it.  See, when your pores aren't clogged with gunk and powders, the pathways are clear for oxygen molecules to travel directly to your brain allowing it to breathe just like your lungs.

I obviously am wearing make up today....

Losin' my faculties

Ever go through a traffic light and wonder 100 yards away if it was green?

Me too.

Ever drive half a mile, forgetting the entire time to watch the road in front of you?

Guil-ty.

I'm not sure I ever really had faculties, I mean, if we're talking about brain power, perception, or a clue, but I digress.

Monday, after a grueling day of blogging and facebook stalking, I get into my car and start toward the YMCA for my daily torture session.  I fidget with the heater, the butt-warmers, and the radio.  As I turn into traffic I am comletely oblivious to the thousands of pounds of metal, rubber, and fine leather upholstery coming at me in all directions because that is the exact moment I notice a cigarette lighter sticking out of the cigarette lighter hole. 

Wait, I thought there was a cover on that lighter hole...

Nope. 

For serious, how long has that sucker been there??

Barring a joke by some prankster who is into watching absent-minded bozos in action, that cigarette lighter has been with me and my car since the beginning:  two and a half years.

But this revelation does not come to me before a wave a panic swallows me whole like Jonah's whale (I teach a children's Sunday School class, these are the analogies I have to work with.)

Did I get into the wrong car?!

Because mistakenly taking the keys (in an office of 3) to an identical messy Alpine Frost 2006 Hyundai Tucson which belongs to a person who listens to the exact same radio stations programmed in the exact same order as me is totally plausible.

Duh.  Faculties.

Eventually, I laugh at myself, call a few people who laugh at myself.  Then I run through a red light...I think.

Nightime antics

I talk in my sleep.  I also mumble, laugh, drool and elbow Corey in the face....while I'm sleeping, of course.

"...the training wheels.....and the pillows have pockets in them!!"

Apparently, I was supposed to outgrow this at some point in my development (thanks for letting me know I'm underdeveloped, Wikipedia, like i don't notice that every single day...but i digress).  Now, I'm part of only 4% of adults who also still talk in their sleep.

"....(giggle)...crackers!"

My parents must also be a part of this group, because I've heard many stories of their nighttime adventures (...I already regret typing that...ew).  Mom wakes up in the middle of the night checking the walls for bugs, and dad wakes up screaming.  The only thing (besides watching videos of dogs trying to walk with shoes on) that makes me laugh so hard I lose all control of both my snot and my spit is hearing sleep talking stories. 

Try me.  Just make sure you have a mop and parka.

Word of the day: Somniloquy - sleep talking.

Welcome back brain

My brain is back. I threw an official welcome home party on Sunday, it was nice. Streamers, cake, a few shots of OJ. Unfortunately, I couldn't invite you. There wasn't much room. My head may look big, but so is my think meat.

Maybe you noticed my complete sentences?

I'm glad to have it back. For one, I remembered to pack underwear for our honeymoon. I was also able to think ahead and plan for breakfast tomorrow. Two very important things.

I think it might still be unpacking toiletries or something, I don't quite have my speech back.