So yep. Mom's got the big C word. And as I keep saying, it totally sucks, right?
But if you also remember, I told you we were going to, as my mom says, "pull our big girl panties" on and start raising some hell with whatever time she has left, be it 5 minutes or 27.276 years. And the hell raising began yesterday when we went away for the night to Williamsburg.
We had the BEST time. I have never laughed so hard in all my life.
We got to the hotel, and my lovely husband, Jamey, surprised me by having flowers in our room when we arrived. Not just one bouquet. TWO. One for my mom, and one for me! Very thoughtful sweetie, and thank you again so much!
We stayed in the hotel room, and we just enjoyed chatting with each other and enjoying some time together without Joshua. It doesn't happen very often anymore. And right away we found something to be amused over.
And at this point, I must pause to warn you all. No one gets the humor between my mom and me. I mean, you all might find these mildly amusing. Hopefully at least amusing enough to get a chuckle out of you and interesting enough to finish reading this post. However, my mother and I found all the following incidents to be downright hysterical.
OK. That said, we were in our hotel for less than ten minutes when my mother had to go to the bathroom. And for whatever reason, the toilets in this hotel are like the ones on cruise ships. If you've ever been on a cruise ship, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you don't, please go book a cruise so you can experience it first hand. But for those of you who can't wait, I will say that you need to stand back from the toilet lest it suck you down into it - because the force of the flush is so strong you swear that is exactly what will happen if you don't jump back immediately. And my mom, being Weezie, found this highly amusing. And so she yelled out at me, "Help, Carolyn!!!" And I laughed. And then we proceeded to try to outdo each other with every flush after that. My favorite was this morning when she called out, "Hey, Carolyn?" And she flushed just as I said, "Yeah?" And then I heard:
Nothing.
And I laughed so hard.
So after we hang out and chat and just enjoy each other's company, we go to dinner. And yes, there was a little bit of wine that was had. However, that is not a requirement for us to be goofy together. We had dinner at a pretty swanky restaurant. The waiters were all in tuxedos and everything. Mom and I had more good conversation. And we joked around a lot and acted silly and all that stuff. And things were fine until the dessert menu came around. And one of the items offered was pecan pie. And the description said that there was a secret ingredient in the pie, and it kind of dared you to try to figure out what it was. And the waiter came over, and of course my mom asked him what the secret ingredient was because she's really not very patient that way. And the waiter said he didn't know and then we told him we needed a few more minutes.
So he walks away, and mom and I are sitting there discussing what to get and all of a sudden I look at her seriously and say, "I bet I know what the secret ingredient is." And she's all, "What is it?" And so I look at her and smile and say, "I bet it's pot." And she almost falls out of her chair, and I am laughing and snorting. So the waiter comes back over, and I know he's waiting for me to order, but I just HAVE to say it. So I tell him that I think the secret ingredient is pot. And the waiter has to walk away from the table three times before he can regain his composure enough to speak. So of course, mom orders a piece of pecan pie to go. (Mom, we totally should have ordered, like, 10 whole pies. And asked for two forks and some napkins, to go...) I get a dessert, but I want something with ice cream (cos DUH), and so of course we have to wait.
The waiter goes back to the kitchen and as he leaves, mom and I are still cracking up over the whole pot comment. I tell her that I bet he is back in the back telling all the kitchen staff about it. And sure enough a minute or two later, I start seeing heads pop out from the kitchen. And mom and I laugh even harder. And then the manager comes into our area, and you know the waiter told her, and I bet she misunderstood and thought we actually had pot, and, of course, since mom and I are laughing so hard, and I'm wolfing down what must have been the biggest dessert they had, I can see why she maybe thought that.
But the fun didn't stop there. While we were waiting for the check, mom decides to go to the restroom. And she comes back and she looks at me, and without missing a beat, she says, "Well. The man in the restroom was VERY rude." And so by the time the waiter gets there, I'm crying into my napkin, and my mom tells HIM that, and I think he really just didn't even know what to do with us at that point. However, mom and I found the whole thing VERY amusing. We both have tears pouring down our faces and my napkin is all wet from the tears I've already wiped off. It was awesome. I'm pretty sure we won't be welcomed back there. Except by Eric the waiter, because even though he wasn't sure how to handle us, he liked us. I think.
Then we stop by a drug store, because I need some NyQuil because I still have a snotty head. We get the NyQuil and get to the hotel room and I joke about needing to take it after I've gotten in the bed so I can fall right asleep since it usually hits me like a ton of bricks. My mom's also decided she needs some, and so she's trying to open the bottle. I don't remember all the jokes we made about the NyQuil, but of course because it was me and my mom, we found everything about the NyQuil highly funny.
But the best part was when she says, "Oh no. We can't take this now." And I ask, "Why not?" And she looks at me and says, "It says you shouldn't take it if the seal is broken." And I look down and she's dropped the plastic seal on the floor. And I pick it up and put it up to her real close and say to her like she's four years old, "DID YOU DO THIS?" And she immediately starts laughing, and I say again, "DID YOU DO THIS????" And we collapse into fits of giggles.
I could go on. But at this point, I know you are all thinking - these two women have lost their minds. And possibly thinking - oh my goodness. I am so glad I was not in Williamsburg while they were there. Or maybe you've stopped reading by now because you just don't get it. And THAT'S THE POINT.
Of course all of this is not translating to how funny it really was. And of course all of you are probably also thinking, "Oh my, Carolyn's mom's illness has really gotten to her. I think she's having some mental problems now." It just makes me laugh even harder, because I think - no, I know - that's what my dad and Jamey think every time they see mom and me together! And what makes it even funnier than THAT, is that my mom will read this, and she will totally get it, and she will also be laughing. And NONE OF YOU WILL GET IT. AWESOME.
Happy Day, folks!
PS - She didn't really get arrested. We just posted on Facebook that it was on her bucket list. Then we made jokes about the view from jail and stuff. But people totally believed it. And that made us laugh even more. Because in truth? If you hang out with my Weezie, you never know. It could totally happen!
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
MARATHON! I DID IT! And. . .Dear God, Please Don't Let Me Look Like An Idiot In My Race Picutres (like I usually do). Thx.
Well if you have been wondering where I've been the last month. . .
I have been running (sorry mom) my ass off. Seriously. It's not there anymore. OK, well it is, but it is smaller than it was.
If you remember, back in June, I told you all I had signed up for the marathon. And I've been training. And training. And the miles have been getting longer. And longer. Our longest run was a 20 mile run. That's far.
But not 26.2 miles. Which is what we all did Saturday. And let me tell you. Your race doesn't even begin until you finish that first 20. The last 6.2? That's where the race starts.
Oh yes, my friends. THAT is where it starts.
So Saturday November 12, I woke up at o'dark thirty. I had been downing Vitamin C like it wascrack candy since I had to substitute teach a bunch of germy darling preschoolers. (I do really love them all. They are great kids. But let's face it. Preschoolers at this time of year? Germfest.) But I digress. . .I got up with Jamey and we left the house at about 5:45am. For a race that started at - 8am. Why you ask? I'll tell you. Whether you wanted to know or not. It was because, I being the paranoid freak that I am, was afraid we wouldn't get a parking spot.
So we got downtown and Jamey drove past all the shmucks who were paying for parking and drove right underneath his building where parking was free and no one knew about it. It was awesome. We had decided to use his office as a warm and cozy place to hang out until race time. And I must say, it was quite lovely! My friends, Kara and Polly, got there shortly after, and we all hung out. I ate my ritual of a toasted peanut butter pita pocket, got to use a real bathroom instead of a port a potty, and before I knew it, it was time to go up to the start.
My friends and I all walked up and stood around in the cold for about 5 minutes and then we were off and running! I have to say, for the first 7-8 miles, I thought if I could stay feeling the way I was feeling then, I'd have a stellar day.
And I must remind you that I had a few goals for this marathon.
1. I did not want to stop and walk. I wanted to run the whole way and not bonk.
2. I wanted to get anything under a 4:45. If I could get under 4:30, I'd go crazy at the finish.
3. I did not want to look like a raving lunatic in my race photos this time.
Rule three was pretty much broken right away, unfortunately. See we were rounding a corner, and there was a band playing, and it was early on, and I was all hyped up. And so unfortunately, I believe a photographer caught me in my "old form". You know. The one where I'm not running with a super cute pony tail and smiling serenely for the camera? Right. The other one is how he caught me. Where I'm waving my hands all around and screaming and looking at the camera with a crazed look on my face. Sigh. I will post my pictures when they come out to show you.
And so my second rule - I had amended it during training. See if you remember, Jamey ran the marathon last year. And he didn't have his very best day, truth be told. I'm still totally proud of him, but he made a fatal mistake. Because my pace has been very consistent through all my training. And it put me within striking distance of his time from last year, which was a 4:13:35. So I had made it my extra super secret goal - to beat him.
I knew it would only be possible if 1. I were having a stellar day, and 2. if someone ran me in. And who better to run me in than the person I was trying to beat, right? Uh-huh. And he didn't know about my goal.
So I was running. Felt great, and ended up losing my lovely friends I had trained with around mile 7.5. We knew it was a possibility and had made the deal that we would all run our own race. And I knew if I waited for them, I wouldn't make my goal. So when one of them stepped to the side to go to the bathroom, I kept going.
And I still felt great. I ran along and grabbed a handful of pretzels that someone was handing out (THANK YOU, to whoever you are - they were delicious!), and kept on and kept on. And then somewhere around mile 15 or so, I started feeling. . .not as great.
If you are a marathoner, then you know (and some of you who aren't may still know) that this is not good. Because "the wall", the point you hit and start to get tired and worn out, isn't until mile 20. They literally call that "the wall". Yep. And I hit it at 15. But I kept running. Because I knew in about 3 more miles, I'd meet up with Jamey. And maybe he could help me out.
I actually sped up and ran to find him. And when I did, I was worn out. I was hurting. He asked how I was. I said I was doing crappy or something like that. And he asked what he could do. So I said, "Talk. Just talk. I might not say anything back, but I just need you to talk to me." You know. To get my mind off the fact that I wanted to lay down on the lovely black asphalt and die. Quickly.
And so he talked. I would like to tell you a lot of what he said, but honestly? I am not even sure. I know I listened. I remember nodding a lot. And saying "yes". And not much else. The sad part for him is, he could have asked me if he could buy a brand new Porsche that day, and I'd have said "yes". So actually, I guess I better not be surprised if one shows up in my driveway.
I was tired. My legs were cramping. I wanted to stop so very badly at mile 25. And at that point, I knew that whether Jamey was there or not, I had to keep going, because I would never forgive myself for being so close and stopping. So I slowed down. WAY down. It was the only mile I went out of the 9's and I clocked a 10:17 mile. And finally at one point, I looked over at Jamey, my wonderful, gorgeous husband, and said, "STOP TALKING." He was like "Got it." And he did stop talking. Which was good because otherwise I might haveupchucked on him and then killed him with my bare hands been very angry.
But then God smiled down on me. Because shortly after that, we turned a corner. And I could see it. The FINISH LINE.
And Jamey started screaming at me, "RUN! RUN CAROLYN!!!!" And I screamed back, "I love you!" And I took off! And I ran for all it was worth and crossed the line! I looked down at my watch, and I had. . .
DONE IT!!! I BEAT JAMEY'S TIME!!!! My watch said 4:12:48. Later the chip time - which is the "official" time, said I completed the race in 4:12:35. I had beaten my lovely husband by exactly one minute.
He's super proud of me too.
I must say a special thanks to a nameless medic who helped me out after I stopped. Because after I stopped, I was very woozy. He came right up to me and asked if I needed assistance. And I couldn't even talk. I just nodded, and he grabbed me firmly by the shoulders as I wavered around a little bit. He put one of those lovely foil blankets around me and then I put the death grips on his hands because I was afraid he was going to let go of me and I would keel right over in the finish area.
Then he said, "Let's go get you a medal." And I nodded and he walked me over (still holding on to me), and as the other man put that beautiful medal around my neck, I leaned against both of them. And sobbed.
I was in a lot of pain. But it was totally worth it. Happy Day, my friends.
PS - Brightroom just posted their pictures. In a word? Sigh. But I did promise to post them. They even have a video of my finish. See them here.
PPS - Someone else took a picture of me where I actually kind of look like a badass. I like it much better.
I have been running (sorry mom) my ass off. Seriously. It's not there anymore. OK, well it is, but it is smaller than it was.
If you remember, back in June, I told you all I had signed up for the marathon. And I've been training. And training. And the miles have been getting longer. And longer. Our longest run was a 20 mile run. That's far.
But not 26.2 miles. Which is what we all did Saturday. And let me tell you. Your race doesn't even begin until you finish that first 20. The last 6.2? That's where the race starts.
Oh yes, my friends. THAT is where it starts.
So Saturday November 12, I woke up at o'dark thirty. I had been downing Vitamin C like it was
So we got downtown and Jamey drove past all the shmucks who were paying for parking and drove right underneath his building where parking was free and no one knew about it. It was awesome. We had decided to use his office as a warm and cozy place to hang out until race time. And I must say, it was quite lovely! My friends, Kara and Polly, got there shortly after, and we all hung out. I ate my ritual of a toasted peanut butter pita pocket, got to use a real bathroom instead of a port a potty, and before I knew it, it was time to go up to the start.
My friends and I all walked up and stood around in the cold for about 5 minutes and then we were off and running! I have to say, for the first 7-8 miles, I thought if I could stay feeling the way I was feeling then, I'd have a stellar day.
And I must remind you that I had a few goals for this marathon.
1. I did not want to stop and walk. I wanted to run the whole way and not bonk.
2. I wanted to get anything under a 4:45. If I could get under 4:30, I'd go crazy at the finish.
3. I did not want to look like a raving lunatic in my race photos this time.
Rule three was pretty much broken right away, unfortunately. See we were rounding a corner, and there was a band playing, and it was early on, and I was all hyped up. And so unfortunately, I believe a photographer caught me in my "old form". You know. The one where I'm not running with a super cute pony tail and smiling serenely for the camera? Right. The other one is how he caught me. Where I'm waving my hands all around and screaming and looking at the camera with a crazed look on my face. Sigh. I will post my pictures when they come out to show you.
And so my second rule - I had amended it during training. See if you remember, Jamey ran the marathon last year. And he didn't have his very best day, truth be told. I'm still totally proud of him, but he made a fatal mistake. Because my pace has been very consistent through all my training. And it put me within striking distance of his time from last year, which was a 4:13:35. So I had made it my extra super secret goal - to beat him.
I knew it would only be possible if 1. I were having a stellar day, and 2. if someone ran me in. And who better to run me in than the person I was trying to beat, right? Uh-huh. And he didn't know about my goal.
So I was running. Felt great, and ended up losing my lovely friends I had trained with around mile 7.5. We knew it was a possibility and had made the deal that we would all run our own race. And I knew if I waited for them, I wouldn't make my goal. So when one of them stepped to the side to go to the bathroom, I kept going.
And I still felt great. I ran along and grabbed a handful of pretzels that someone was handing out (THANK YOU, to whoever you are - they were delicious!), and kept on and kept on. And then somewhere around mile 15 or so, I started feeling. . .not as great.
If you are a marathoner, then you know (and some of you who aren't may still know) that this is not good. Because "the wall", the point you hit and start to get tired and worn out, isn't until mile 20. They literally call that "the wall". Yep. And I hit it at 15. But I kept running. Because I knew in about 3 more miles, I'd meet up with Jamey. And maybe he could help me out.
I actually sped up and ran to find him. And when I did, I was worn out. I was hurting. He asked how I was. I said I was doing crappy or something like that. And he asked what he could do. So I said, "Talk. Just talk. I might not say anything back, but I just need you to talk to me." You know. To get my mind off the fact that I wanted to lay down on the lovely black asphalt and die. Quickly.
And so he talked. I would like to tell you a lot of what he said, but honestly? I am not even sure. I know I listened. I remember nodding a lot. And saying "yes". And not much else. The sad part for him is, he could have asked me if he could buy a brand new Porsche that day, and I'd have said "yes". So actually, I guess I better not be surprised if one shows up in my driveway.
I was tired. My legs were cramping. I wanted to stop so very badly at mile 25. And at that point, I knew that whether Jamey was there or not, I had to keep going, because I would never forgive myself for being so close and stopping. So I slowed down. WAY down. It was the only mile I went out of the 9's and I clocked a 10:17 mile. And finally at one point, I looked over at Jamey, my wonderful, gorgeous husband, and said, "STOP TALKING." He was like "Got it." And he did stop talking. Which was good because otherwise I might have
But then God smiled down on me. Because shortly after that, we turned a corner. And I could see it. The FINISH LINE.
And Jamey started screaming at me, "RUN! RUN CAROLYN!!!!" And I screamed back, "I love you!" And I took off! And I ran for all it was worth and crossed the line! I looked down at my watch, and I had. . .
DONE IT!!! I BEAT JAMEY'S TIME!!!! My watch said 4:12:48. Later the chip time - which is the "official" time, said I completed the race in 4:12:35. I had beaten my lovely husband by exactly one minute.
He's super proud of me too.
I must say a special thanks to a nameless medic who helped me out after I stopped. Because after I stopped, I was very woozy. He came right up to me and asked if I needed assistance. And I couldn't even talk. I just nodded, and he grabbed me firmly by the shoulders as I wavered around a little bit. He put one of those lovely foil blankets around me and then I put the death grips on his hands because I was afraid he was going to let go of me and I would keel right over in the finish area.
Then he said, "Let's go get you a medal." And I nodded and he walked me over (still holding on to me), and as the other man put that beautiful medal around my neck, I leaned against both of them. And sobbed.
I was in a lot of pain. But it was totally worth it. Happy Day, my friends.
PS - Brightroom just posted their pictures. In a word? Sigh. But I did promise to post them. They even have a video of my finish. See them here.
PPS - Someone else took a picture of me where I actually kind of look like a badass. I like it much better.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Oopsie - It's Been a While. And Have You Ever Heard of an Exploding Turkey Burger?
Sorry that I deserted you all. This summer has been particularly busy for some reason. Either that or I've been exceptionally lazy. That is probably the more likely answer.
And so since it's been very busy (because of course that option sounds much better), you'd think I have a lot to write about, right?
Not really.
But something did happen last night. My husband's turkey burger exploded.
Let me explain.
I decided to try a new recipe last night. It was called Mozzarella-Stuffed Italian Turkey Burgers. Essentially, you take some ground turkey, add stuff to it, and then form 8 very thin patties. Then you take four of the patties and lay a slice of mozzarella cheese on it. Then you take the other patty and "seal" it so that the mozzarella cheese doesn't leak out. Broil or grill them and enjoy, right?
So I follow the directions and make the burgers, and I must say, by the time they were broiling in the oven, I was quite pleased with myself. Because they were smelling pretty darn tasty. And Jamey gets home from work and, as he's changing, he asks what is for dinner. I tell him, and then have to explain why it's not ready because these burgers take a little longer to prepare and blah blah blah.
I finally finish up the rest of dinner, and I get his burger onto a bun (I ate mine sans bun), and set it on the table.
I turn to finish getting my plate together and I hear. . .
Well I won't say what I heard. Because let's face it. It wasn't very pretty.
And I turn around, and Jamey is wiping at his face and his arm and his shirt, and I was like "What's WRONG?"
And I look on his plate, and it looked like the burger had an accident of some sort.
And so he's all yelling, like, "THE BURGER EXPLODED!"
And I don't want to be outdone in the yelling department, so I'm all like, "WHAT?!?!?!"
And he yells louder, "THE BURGER EXPLODED AND I GOT TURKEY JUICE ALL OVER ME AND IT'S HOT AS (you know what) AND IT HURT!!!!!"
(I decide at this point that it would be in my best interest not to yell back anymore.) I put on my sweet, concerned voice and say, "Are you OK?"
And he looks at me, and says, "This meal is NOT off to a good start."
Like it's my fault. Really?
How the heck was I supposed to know that a turkey burger stuffed with cheese would explode when you took the first bite? Besides, mine didn't. Of course, that's because I was eating it with no bun, and cut into it VERY carefully after seeing the carnage on Jamey's plate.
So your lesson of the day is: If someone else made you a burger, always ask if the burgers are stuffed with cheese. Because if they are, they might explode.
Aren't you glad you know that now?
Happy day folks!
And so since it's been very busy (because of course that option sounds much better), you'd think I have a lot to write about, right?
Not really.
But something did happen last night. My husband's turkey burger exploded.
Let me explain.
I decided to try a new recipe last night. It was called Mozzarella-Stuffed Italian Turkey Burgers. Essentially, you take some ground turkey, add stuff to it, and then form 8 very thin patties. Then you take four of the patties and lay a slice of mozzarella cheese on it. Then you take the other patty and "seal" it so that the mozzarella cheese doesn't leak out. Broil or grill them and enjoy, right?
So I follow the directions and make the burgers, and I must say, by the time they were broiling in the oven, I was quite pleased with myself. Because they were smelling pretty darn tasty. And Jamey gets home from work and, as he's changing, he asks what is for dinner. I tell him, and then have to explain why it's not ready because these burgers take a little longer to prepare and blah blah blah.
I finally finish up the rest of dinner, and I get his burger onto a bun (I ate mine sans bun), and set it on the table.
I turn to finish getting my plate together and I hear. . .
Well I won't say what I heard. Because let's face it. It wasn't very pretty.
And I turn around, and Jamey is wiping at his face and his arm and his shirt, and I was like "What's WRONG?"
And I look on his plate, and it looked like the burger had an accident of some sort.
And so he's all yelling, like, "THE BURGER EXPLODED!"
And I don't want to be outdone in the yelling department, so I'm all like, "WHAT?!?!?!"
And he yells louder, "THE BURGER EXPLODED AND I GOT TURKEY JUICE ALL OVER ME AND IT'S HOT AS (you know what) AND IT HURT!!!!!"
(I decide at this point that it would be in my best interest not to yell back anymore.) I put on my sweet, concerned voice and say, "Are you OK?"
And he looks at me, and says, "This meal is NOT off to a good start."
Like it's my fault. Really?
How the heck was I supposed to know that a turkey burger stuffed with cheese would explode when you took the first bite? Besides, mine didn't. Of course, that's because I was eating it with no bun, and cut into it VERY carefully after seeing the carnage on Jamey's plate.
So your lesson of the day is: If someone else made you a burger, always ask if the burgers are stuffed with cheese. Because if they are, they might explode.
Aren't you glad you know that now?
Happy day folks!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
I'm Really Quite Bitter About the Whole "Do Not Call" List Thing Because it's Ruining All My Fun
Wowee. Yesterday's post was super exciting. And thanks for helping me get to my all time record high month! Sigh. I was so close to negotiating my first endorsement deal. But as you know, it didn't work out. I got one last email I thought I'd share. They were super-understanding, and it allowed me to respond back to let them know the door was always open. Want to see what it said? Here it is:
If anything I can tell u one thing... You are a very funny and witty
blogger and u would do really well in anything that u write about. Just
keep building your subscriber base and keep your list engaged in what ur
talking about and u'll be fine.
Have a great day,
Really nice, right? So I totally understand. And in fact, they ought to be pretty happy because really, they got free advertising from me. Notice I didn't block their website? So all of you can find it, and maybe you can become sales reps for them. And then to thank me, maybe they'd reopen negotiations. What? You don't think I'll get an endorsement deal from them? Ever? (Note to self: Go block website after writing this blog post.)
Anyway, so I promised you yesterday that I'd share some really funny stories about how my family used to handle telemarketing calls. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, let me take you back. . .
See there used to be a time when people would call you on the phone to try and sell you stuff. All kinds of things. You'll see some examples in a few minutes. Now they just email you or text you. But anyway, these people could be very persistent. Most people, when they would receive a telemarketing call, would simply hang up. There were some though, who would listen intently to the sales pitch, and totally buy out the company of whatever it was they were selling, because, gee, wouldn't those make great Christmas gifts and all? Right? Still following? And then the whole Do Not Call thing got enacted. And we lost all those wonderful telemarketing calls. I'm still a little bitter. Because my family, although most of the time we would simply hang up on the telemarketers, sometimes, if we were feeling a little frisky and in particularly good moods, we would have a little fun. See the three examples I give below:
Telemarketing Call #1 - Gardening Books
First of all, I totally know what you are thinking. How in the world can somebody sell books over the phone? I mean, don't you want to open books up and look at them, read a little before you decide to buy it? Isn't that what all normal people do? Oh no, wait. Now they just go to Barnes and Nobles and sit with their in-store Starbucks coffee in one of those little comfy chairs and read the book there so they don't have to buy it. Wait. You don't do that? It's just me? (awkward silence) OK then. . .
So one day the phone rang at our house and my mom answered it. And I could tell immediately it was a telemarketer just by the way my mom said, "Yes?" It was all kind of high-pitched and she was practically trembling with false excitement! The telemarketer then told her that they were selling some gardening books. I am not sure if this is exactly right (So mom if it's not, please don't point it out, because I don't remember the exact story or verbiage, but it was something like this, you must agree.), but I think it might have been a series of books and you got one a month or something and the person on the phone selling this wonderful series was super excited about these books.
Of course then, my mom has to either match the excitement, or be even more excited. She chose the second option. "You're KIDDING! I was just saying the other day how I have always wanted some gardening books! And now you're calling! Isn't that just the funniest coinkydink?" (I know she didn't say 'coinkydink', but let's face it. This is my blog, and I like embellishing the truth sometimes. Don't. Judge. Me.)
Now the person selling is about ready to come through the phone and kiss my mother, because I am absolutely sure they thought they were getting ready to make their first sale. Ever. So the person is all like, "Well Mrs. Y, I am so glad that we are going to be able to provide you with these wonderful books! If I could just get your information. . ." at which point my mother interrupts, "OH absolutely. I just have one little question."
The telemarketer is still really excited and says, "Oh yes m'am! What would you like to know?" So my mom pauses a moment and then says, "Now, don't forget, I'm really excited about these books. I mean, I was just talking about wanting to take up gardening, so these will be really super useful. But just one thing. What language do they come in?"
The telemarketer pauses a moment. "Um. Well they are written in English."
Mom - (very dramatic here, of course) "OH no. That's too bad."
Telemarketer (thrown off now, and is starting to sound a little desperate) "Is that a problem?"
Mom - "Well yes. See I don't read English. I can only read in Swahili (or whatever language she said)."
Telemarketer - "Really?"
Mom - "Yes. I only speak in English, and I only read in Swahili. My third cousin was from there."
Telemarketer (now obviously super desperate) - "Well, um. There are really pretty pictures in here that you could look at."
Mom - "Well it's just so expensive to buy gardening books written in Swahili, that I couldn't afford both. You know. Translation's a real bitch." (OK she didn't say the translation part, but it would have been really funny if she had.)
Telemarketer (totally devastated at losing the sale, and a little perplexed still about the third cousin comment) - "Uh. OK. Well I'm sorry we couldn't help you."
Mom - "Me too. Ciao Bella!" (hangs up)
Telemarketer #2 - Aluminum Siding
This one was also fielded by my mother. Everyone thinks my dad is the funniest in our family. But obviously, he actually has some pretty stiff competition. This one went like this:
Telemarketer makes initial contact. Introduces the fact that he is selling some really nice aluminum siding, and that it would protect our home for years to come yada, yada, yada, right? So then my mom says, "Wow. That sounds like a really great product. We have a brick house. Is it hard to put aluminum siding over brick?" (We, in fact, did not have a brick home.)
Telemarketer - "Um. You want to put aluminum siding over your brick home?"
Mom - "After you said how well it could protect it, it sounds like a must do thing to me, you know?"
Telemarketer - "Well. I mean, I guess we could. I'd have to check on that."
Mom - "Why? Is it a problem?" (fake concern oozing from her voice)
Telemarketer - "It's just that. . .well, with most people. . .I mean, with most homes that are brick, it usually is not necessary for them to cover that with aluminum siding."
Mom (feigning great surprise and disappointment) - "Oh? OH. That's so too bad. Well how about doghouses?"
Telemarketer - "Uh. No. No, I am pretty sure we don't do doghouses."
Mom - "Oh. How about trees then?"
Telemarketer (perplexed) - "Excuse me?"
Mom (thinking he might be deaf) - "WHAT ABOUT TREES? I HAVE SOME TREES THAT I'D LIKE TO PROTECT FROM THE ELEMENTS. LIKE RAIN."
Telemarketer -
Mom - "Hello? Hello? Is there anybody there?"
Telemarketer - (dial tone)
Telemarketer #3 - I have no idea what they were selling. It never got that far.
By this time, our whole family enjoyed messing with the telemarketers. We figured it gave them a good laugh even if they didn't get a sale. And I am pretty sure that we had been added to a list for all telemarketing firms. It was probably a much shorter list. I think we were on the "If You Don't Call Anybody Else, Make Sure You Call These People" list.
This call was one that my whole family was in on. Except maybe my sister. I don't remember if she was there or not. But you'll get the point of why we didn't ever find out what they were selling very quickly.
Telemarketer - "Hello. May I speak to Mr. Y?" (Oh and this is how we always knew it was a telemarketer - they absolutely butchered pronouncing our last name.)
Mom - "OH. Yes. Right away. Let me get him." (Does all these fake hand signals to let us know it's a sales call, and she gives us a cue. We all start talking all at once. Loudly.)
Dad - "Hello?" (speaking a little louder over the voices)
Telemarketer - "Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Y?"
Dad - "Oh. You must want my father. Hang on a moment and I'll get him." Pause "DAD! DAD! TELEPHONE!"
Now we all shuffle around and continue talking and making farm animal sounds and increase the volume a little. Dad gets back on the phone.
Dad - "HELLO?"
Telemarketer (who is a bit flustered now) - "YES. HI. IS THIS MR. Y?"
Dad - "NO. I THINK YOU MUST WANT TO SPEAK TO MY FATHER. HOLD ON. AND SPEAK UP BECAUSE HE'S HARD OF HEARING."
Telemarketer - "UH. OK."
More shuffling and longer wait because, obviously, if it's my dad's, dad's, dad, he's certainly going to take longer to get to the phone, right? And we talk even louder. More chicken and cow sounds too.
Dad - "HELLO?"
Telemarketer (Sounding weary now) - "HI. IS THIS MR. Y?"
Dad - "IT IS BUT I THINK YOU MIGHT WANT MY BROTHER. HOLD ON."
More shuffling, talking, and now I think we are throwing in zoo animal sounds too. And that's a shame, because you know what's going to happen next:
Dad - "HELLO?"
Telemarketer - (Dial tone)
I hate to think they missed our zoo animal sounds. My mom does a mean elephant.
Happy Day!
*******
If anything I can tell u one thing... You are a very funny and witty
blogger and u would do really well in anything that u write about. Just
keep building your subscriber base and keep your list engaged in what ur
talking about and u'll be fine.
Have a great day,
*******
Really nice, right? So I totally understand. And in fact, they ought to be pretty happy because really, they got free advertising from me. Notice I didn't block their website? So all of you can find it, and maybe you can become sales reps for them. And then to thank me, maybe they'd reopen negotiations. What? You don't think I'll get an endorsement deal from them? Ever? (Note to self: Go block website after writing this blog post.)
Anyway, so I promised you yesterday that I'd share some really funny stories about how my family used to handle telemarketing calls. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, let me take you back. . .
See there used to be a time when people would call you on the phone to try and sell you stuff. All kinds of things. You'll see some examples in a few minutes. Now they just email you or text you. But anyway, these people could be very persistent. Most people, when they would receive a telemarketing call, would simply hang up. There were some though, who would listen intently to the sales pitch, and totally buy out the company of whatever it was they were selling, because, gee, wouldn't those make great Christmas gifts and all? Right? Still following? And then the whole Do Not Call thing got enacted. And we lost all those wonderful telemarketing calls. I'm still a little bitter. Because my family, although most of the time we would simply hang up on the telemarketers, sometimes, if we were feeling a little frisky and in particularly good moods, we would have a little fun. See the three examples I give below:
Telemarketing Call #1 - Gardening Books
First of all, I totally know what you are thinking. How in the world can somebody sell books over the phone? I mean, don't you want to open books up and look at them, read a little before you decide to buy it? Isn't that what all normal people do? Oh no, wait. Now they just go to Barnes and Nobles and sit with their in-store Starbucks coffee in one of those little comfy chairs and read the book there so they don't have to buy it. Wait. You don't do that? It's just me? (awkward silence) OK then. . .
So one day the phone rang at our house and my mom answered it. And I could tell immediately it was a telemarketer just by the way my mom said, "Yes?" It was all kind of high-pitched and she was practically trembling with false excitement! The telemarketer then told her that they were selling some gardening books. I am not sure if this is exactly right (So mom if it's not, please don't point it out, because I don't remember the exact story or verbiage, but it was something like this, you must agree.), but I think it might have been a series of books and you got one a month or something and the person on the phone selling this wonderful series was super excited about these books.
Of course then, my mom has to either match the excitement, or be even more excited. She chose the second option. "You're KIDDING! I was just saying the other day how I have always wanted some gardening books! And now you're calling! Isn't that just the funniest coinkydink?" (I know she didn't say 'coinkydink', but let's face it. This is my blog, and I like embellishing the truth sometimes. Don't. Judge. Me.)
Now the person selling is about ready to come through the phone and kiss my mother, because I am absolutely sure they thought they were getting ready to make their first sale. Ever. So the person is all like, "Well Mrs. Y, I am so glad that we are going to be able to provide you with these wonderful books! If I could just get your information. . ." at which point my mother interrupts, "OH absolutely. I just have one little question."
The telemarketer is still really excited and says, "Oh yes m'am! What would you like to know?" So my mom pauses a moment and then says, "Now, don't forget, I'm really excited about these books. I mean, I was just talking about wanting to take up gardening, so these will be really super useful. But just one thing. What language do they come in?"
The telemarketer pauses a moment. "Um. Well they are written in English."
Mom - (very dramatic here, of course) "OH no. That's too bad."
Telemarketer (thrown off now, and is starting to sound a little desperate) "Is that a problem?"
Mom - "Well yes. See I don't read English. I can only read in Swahili (or whatever language she said)."
Telemarketer - "Really?"
Mom - "Yes. I only speak in English, and I only read in Swahili. My third cousin was from there."
Telemarketer (now obviously super desperate) - "Well, um. There are really pretty pictures in here that you could look at."
Mom - "Well it's just so expensive to buy gardening books written in Swahili, that I couldn't afford both. You know. Translation's a real bitch." (OK she didn't say the translation part, but it would have been really funny if she had.)
Telemarketer (totally devastated at losing the sale, and a little perplexed still about the third cousin comment) - "Uh. OK. Well I'm sorry we couldn't help you."
Mom - "Me too. Ciao Bella!" (hangs up)
Telemarketer #2 - Aluminum Siding
This one was also fielded by my mother. Everyone thinks my dad is the funniest in our family. But obviously, he actually has some pretty stiff competition. This one went like this:
Telemarketer makes initial contact. Introduces the fact that he is selling some really nice aluminum siding, and that it would protect our home for years to come yada, yada, yada, right? So then my mom says, "Wow. That sounds like a really great product. We have a brick house. Is it hard to put aluminum siding over brick?" (We, in fact, did not have a brick home.)
Telemarketer - "Um. You want to put aluminum siding over your brick home?"
Mom - "After you said how well it could protect it, it sounds like a must do thing to me, you know?"
Telemarketer - "Well. I mean, I guess we could. I'd have to check on that."
Mom - "Why? Is it a problem?" (fake concern oozing from her voice)
Telemarketer - "It's just that. . .well, with most people. . .I mean, with most homes that are brick, it usually is not necessary for them to cover that with aluminum siding."
Mom (feigning great surprise and disappointment) - "Oh? OH. That's so too bad. Well how about doghouses?"
Telemarketer - "Uh. No. No, I am pretty sure we don't do doghouses."
Mom - "Oh. How about trees then?"
Telemarketer (perplexed) - "Excuse me?"
Mom (thinking he might be deaf) - "WHAT ABOUT TREES? I HAVE SOME TREES THAT I'D LIKE TO PROTECT FROM THE ELEMENTS. LIKE RAIN."
Telemarketer -
Mom - "Hello? Hello? Is there anybody there?"
Telemarketer - (dial tone)
Telemarketer #3 - I have no idea what they were selling. It never got that far.
By this time, our whole family enjoyed messing with the telemarketers. We figured it gave them a good laugh even if they didn't get a sale. And I am pretty sure that we had been added to a list for all telemarketing firms. It was probably a much shorter list. I think we were on the "If You Don't Call Anybody Else, Make Sure You Call These People" list.
This call was one that my whole family was in on. Except maybe my sister. I don't remember if she was there or not. But you'll get the point of why we didn't ever find out what they were selling very quickly.
Telemarketer - "Hello. May I speak to Mr. Y?" (Oh and this is how we always knew it was a telemarketer - they absolutely butchered pronouncing our last name.)
Mom - "OH. Yes. Right away. Let me get him." (Does all these fake hand signals to let us know it's a sales call, and she gives us a cue. We all start talking all at once. Loudly.)
Dad - "Hello?" (speaking a little louder over the voices)
Telemarketer - "Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Y?"
Dad - "Oh. You must want my father. Hang on a moment and I'll get him." Pause "DAD! DAD! TELEPHONE!"
Now we all shuffle around and continue talking and making farm animal sounds and increase the volume a little. Dad gets back on the phone.
Dad - "HELLO?"
Telemarketer (who is a bit flustered now) - "YES. HI. IS THIS MR. Y?"
Dad - "NO. I THINK YOU MUST WANT TO SPEAK TO MY FATHER. HOLD ON. AND SPEAK UP BECAUSE HE'S HARD OF HEARING."
Telemarketer - "UH. OK."
More shuffling and longer wait because, obviously, if it's my dad's, dad's, dad, he's certainly going to take longer to get to the phone, right? And we talk even louder. More chicken and cow sounds too.
Dad - "HELLO?"
Telemarketer (Sounding weary now) - "HI. IS THIS MR. Y?"
Dad - "IT IS BUT I THINK YOU MIGHT WANT MY BROTHER. HOLD ON."
More shuffling, talking, and now I think we are throwing in zoo animal sounds too. And that's a shame, because you know what's going to happen next:
Dad - "HELLO?"
Telemarketer - (Dial tone)
*******
I hate to think they missed our zoo animal sounds. My mom does a mean elephant.
Happy Day!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
My Love/Hate Relationship With My Maiden Name
OK, so I must preface this post by saying:
First of all, I wrote this yesterday! Aren't you proud of me? I couldn't help it. As you all know, I usually sit at the chair in front of the computer for a while waiting for inspiration to hit me. And when it doesn't, I generally whack my own self upside the head and write something anyway. But yesterday, and I don't remember exactly what it was that made me come up with this topic (Could be I hit myself a little harder than normal and caused some sort of temporary, or permanent, brain damage?), but once it took hold, I thought to myself that I better get on the computer while I had the chance. I am glad this paragraph is done, because it is hard to talk about yesterday when it is actually today. Confused? Me too. I gotta stop whacking myself so hard.
Second of all, I know it sounds harsh to say that I "hate" my maiden name. So mom, if you are reading this (God, I hope she is, cos if she's not, how embarrassing would that be?), and if you think Daddy will disown me, or hate me, or generally be upset about this, then don't show it to him. And with that statement, I am sure you are all thinking, "Well, couldn't he go and find it on the computer himself?" And the answer to that question is, hmmmm, how shall I put this? The easy way or the hard way? Well let's just say that if . . .nooo. No. He couldn't. Let's stick with the easy way, shall we?
Anyway. By now you are all probably wondering what my last name is. I can't decide whether or not to tell you. Because it is a unique last name. And if I told you what it was, well then you could easily look my parents up. And then you might mail my dad a copy of this post. Or worse, you would blackmail me by threatening to mail a copy of this post to my dad. So I think not on telling you. Sorry.
My last name was unique because my dad's Czechoslovakian grandfather, when he was getting off the boat in New York, (I guess. I think that he came in through Staten Island.) the story goes that they asked him what he would like his last name to be. And he gave them our last name. Which wasn't really his last name. And how were they to know? So that's the last name we ended up with.
It starts with a "Y". And it was such an odd name that people would mispronounce it all the time. I have childhood memories of the beginning of every school year when the teacher would get to my last name and inevitably she would always mispronounce it. And I'd absolutely cringe. Because I swear even at 7 or 8 or 9, kids were already mean, and some of them would snicker and laugh.
So I wanted to change my last name desperately. To something like "Young". You know, easy to spell, easy to pronounce? And besides, remember those mean kids? Well they'd figure out how to make mean rhymes out. You know the ones. And if you don't, I'll explain. Occasionally, I'd get teased because my last name rhymed with something else that would be insulting to you if you were called it. (This brings back memories of a Seinfeld episode. I don't remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with a girl's first name sounding like part of the female sex anatomy etc etc. I was at least lucky enough not to have my last name rhyme with something like that.)
Then when I hit high school, the coolest thing happened to my sister. When her class graduated, she was the last one in her class to graduate. So she got the biggest cheer. Not necessarily because she was the most popular, but she surely was the most popular person at that moment. And I all I could hope for, for the next two years, was for Charles Z. to move away. Or disappear. (I admit it. I had thoughts.) But he didn't. So I didn't even get to relish in my last name when I graduated from high school.
When I met Jamey, and he finally asked me to marry him, I was totally excited. Not because I was finally going to get to change my last name, though I can see why you would think that. No, it was because I was finally going to move way up in the alphabet. All the way from the "Y's" to the "D's". It was one of my criteria in looking for a husband. Oh, and I really did love him too.
No, by that time, I finally had kind of gotten used to my last name. I guess I had gotten out of school and had sort of grown up. The day I got married, I was actually a little sad to see my last name go. Daddy was the only boy in his family. He's the last of our "Y" name. Once he and my mom are gone, our last name ceases to exist in our family tree. But I can't think of two better people to wear that name proudly and make it a good name.
First of all, I wrote this yesterday! Aren't you proud of me? I couldn't help it. As you all know, I usually sit at the chair in front of the computer for a while waiting for inspiration to hit me. And when it doesn't, I generally whack my own self upside the head and write something anyway. But yesterday, and I don't remember exactly what it was that made me come up with this topic (Could be I hit myself a little harder than normal and caused some sort of temporary, or permanent, brain damage?), but once it took hold, I thought to myself that I better get on the computer while I had the chance. I am glad this paragraph is done, because it is hard to talk about yesterday when it is actually today. Confused? Me too. I gotta stop whacking myself so hard.
Second of all, I know it sounds harsh to say that I "hate" my maiden name. So mom, if you are reading this (God, I hope she is, cos if she's not, how embarrassing would that be?), and if you think Daddy will disown me, or hate me, or generally be upset about this, then don't show it to him. And with that statement, I am sure you are all thinking, "Well, couldn't he go and find it on the computer himself?" And the answer to that question is, hmmmm, how shall I put this? The easy way or the hard way? Well let's just say that if . . .nooo. No. He couldn't. Let's stick with the easy way, shall we?
Anyway. By now you are all probably wondering what my last name is. I can't decide whether or not to tell you. Because it is a unique last name. And if I told you what it was, well then you could easily look my parents up. And then you might mail my dad a copy of this post. Or worse, you would blackmail me by threatening to mail a copy of this post to my dad. So I think not on telling you. Sorry.
My last name was unique because my dad's Czechoslovakian grandfather, when he was getting off the boat in New York, (I guess. I think that he came in through Staten Island.) the story goes that they asked him what he would like his last name to be. And he gave them our last name. Which wasn't really his last name. And how were they to know? So that's the last name we ended up with.
It starts with a "Y". And it was such an odd name that people would mispronounce it all the time. I have childhood memories of the beginning of every school year when the teacher would get to my last name and inevitably she would always mispronounce it. And I'd absolutely cringe. Because I swear even at 7 or 8 or 9, kids were already mean, and some of them would snicker and laugh.
So I wanted to change my last name desperately. To something like "Young". You know, easy to spell, easy to pronounce? And besides, remember those mean kids? Well they'd figure out how to make mean rhymes out. You know the ones. And if you don't, I'll explain. Occasionally, I'd get teased because my last name rhymed with something else that would be insulting to you if you were called it. (This brings back memories of a Seinfeld episode. I don't remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with a girl's first name sounding like part of the female sex anatomy etc etc. I was at least lucky enough not to have my last name rhyme with something like that.)
Then when I hit high school, the coolest thing happened to my sister. When her class graduated, she was the last one in her class to graduate. So she got the biggest cheer. Not necessarily because she was the most popular, but she surely was the most popular person at that moment. And I all I could hope for, for the next two years, was for Charles Z. to move away. Or disappear. (I admit it. I had thoughts.) But he didn't. So I didn't even get to relish in my last name when I graduated from high school.
When I met Jamey, and he finally asked me to marry him, I was totally excited. Not because I was finally going to get to change my last name, though I can see why you would think that. No, it was because I was finally going to move way up in the alphabet. All the way from the "Y's" to the "D's". It was one of my criteria in looking for a husband. Oh, and I really did love him too.
No, by that time, I finally had kind of gotten used to my last name. I guess I had gotten out of school and had sort of grown up. The day I got married, I was actually a little sad to see my last name go. Daddy was the only boy in his family. He's the last of our "Y" name. Once he and my mom are gone, our last name ceases to exist in our family tree. But I can't think of two better people to wear that name proudly and make it a good name.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
I Love Me Some Junk
Sooooo, yesterday, my mom came over and she went with me to drop my boy off at preschool. And as a side note, I think he was quite unhappy that MiMi and Mommy were going off to "do stuff" together without him. And his cuteness must've been temporarily less cute, because, frankly, I wasn't the least bit upset that he was missing out. This was probably because I already knew where we were headed. I was practically salivating to get there as we left him to sulk his way into his classroom. . .
Do you think we were going somewhere to eat? Nope. Starbucks maybe? Well actually, that one did cross my mind, but nope, wrong again. Instead we went to -
GardenRidge.
Awwwwwweeeeeeeeessssssooooommmmmeeeeeee. Love it! If you don't know what GardenRidge is, you are totally missing out. It's like the Walmart of home decor. Seriously. For instance, you walk in the door of the store, and one of the first things we see are Christmas trees. That look really nice. Seven foot pre-lit Christmas trees for $59.99. And then 75% off. Can't beat it, right? And I need a new Christmas tree in a really big way, remember? However there is one small problem with the trees.
A lovely sign. That explains that the trees are on major sale because the lights have some problems staying lit. I still almost got one. I mean, a seven foot tree for $15?????? (Maybe I should go back and get one. I didn't actually do the math yesterday.)
So that's just one example of the silliness of the deals at GardenRidge. They have rugs. They have chairs. They have furniture. They have artificial plants, picture frames, mirrors, candles, men's and women's scrubs (huh? But they really do. . .), pillows, bedding. They have everything except a rent-to-own handyman. And I bet by next week they have one of those too.
They even have suits of armour. Which made me laugh, because there's a sticker on it that says it has sharp edges and should not be considered a toy. So funny. I told my mom I would get one for her if she wanted it. Then she asked if she could have both of them (because of course they had them in gold and silver), because she wanted one for at the front door and one for at the back door. I told her of course she could have both. They were only $100 each. And who doesn't need a good suit of armour for their home? They are obviously antiques. You can't reproduce something like that, right?
Personally, I think it would be fabulous to buy one of those suits of armour and take it to a show like Antiques Roadshow or Pawnstars. And be all like, "You'll never guess, where I found this. And for only $100!!!!" And then be totally crestfallen when they look at me like I'm crazy and tell me it's not an antique. I'd be a YouTube sensation. I'd be - viral. How awesome. I know without a doubt I could pull that off. Might have to look into that. But I digress. . .
Anyway, the whole point of this post is to say that I love every single bit of that GardenRidge junk. The kitchen area alone sent my heart into palpitations. They have a mug stand that comes with four mugs for only $9.99. I wanted one of those when we lived in our house on Logan Street and I had a little coffee bar upstairs in our bedroom. It would have been perfect. I don't have a coffee bar now, but I still totally want one.
They have all those gadgets you see on TV too. A neck exerciser, a butt enhancer (think J-lo ass), an upside down tomato plant grower, and more! I want all that stuff. It's a good thing I don't watch TV all that much when infomercials are on. We'd be bankrupt for sure.
They have stands and stands of books. All different kinds. Some actually looked good. And they were all on sale for about $4 a piece. Who knows, one day it is possible I might would need a book about Birds of Connecticut. Or about Solving Your Personal Plumbing Issues (I was afraid to open that book). And yes. I meant to type "I might would." Don't other people say that?
I thought about buying a rug for Quincy. Right now he's been relegated to sleeping on the cold tile floor of our kitchen. But before you judge me, it was because, and I don't think I've mentioned this, he chewed a lovely hole in my beautiful oriental rug that he had been sleeping on. So I don't feel at all bad he's been sleeping on the floor. And GardenRidge had rugs for like $100. They are kind of ugly. But not expensive like an oriental rug. I'm still bitter about the rug. It happened about two months ago or something. Anyway, then I thought, I'd still be pissed if Quincy chewed a hole in a $100 rug too. So the cold tile floor it is. Again - Don't. Judge. Me.
The best part was that the Christmas stuff was all 75% off. I got four rolls of heavy duty wrapping paper for .75 a piece. And the very best score? A Miffy and Friends Christmas video. Joshua loves Miffy. And it was $1.50. He's watched it since it came home. Luckily, I can stay in the kitchen, so I don't hear it as much. But I do have to put up with dog slobber.
So, if you like some junk, like I like some junk, you totally have to go to GardenRidge. Mom and I spent all morning there. I didn't want to leave. I still think I need to go back and get that suit of armour in case Antiques Roadshow ever comes here. I just know that's my ticket to fame and fortune. . .
Happy day everyone!
Do you think we were going somewhere to eat? Nope. Starbucks maybe? Well actually, that one did cross my mind, but nope, wrong again. Instead we went to -
GardenRidge.
Awwwwwweeeeeeeeessssssooooommmmmeeeeeee. Love it! If you don't know what GardenRidge is, you are totally missing out. It's like the Walmart of home decor. Seriously. For instance, you walk in the door of the store, and one of the first things we see are Christmas trees. That look really nice. Seven foot pre-lit Christmas trees for $59.99. And then 75% off. Can't beat it, right? And I need a new Christmas tree in a really big way, remember? However there is one small problem with the trees.
A lovely sign. That explains that the trees are on major sale because the lights have some problems staying lit. I still almost got one. I mean, a seven foot tree for $15?????? (Maybe I should go back and get one. I didn't actually do the math yesterday.)
So that's just one example of the silliness of the deals at GardenRidge. They have rugs. They have chairs. They have furniture. They have artificial plants, picture frames, mirrors, candles, men's and women's scrubs (huh? But they really do. . .), pillows, bedding. They have everything except a rent-to-own handyman. And I bet by next week they have one of those too.
They even have suits of armour. Which made me laugh, because there's a sticker on it that says it has sharp edges and should not be considered a toy. So funny. I told my mom I would get one for her if she wanted it. Then she asked if she could have both of them (because of course they had them in gold and silver), because she wanted one for at the front door and one for at the back door. I told her of course she could have both. They were only $100 each. And who doesn't need a good suit of armour for their home? They are obviously antiques. You can't reproduce something like that, right?
Personally, I think it would be fabulous to buy one of those suits of armour and take it to a show like Antiques Roadshow or Pawnstars. And be all like, "You'll never guess, where I found this. And for only $100!!!!" And then be totally crestfallen when they look at me like I'm crazy and tell me it's not an antique. I'd be a YouTube sensation. I'd be - viral. How awesome. I know without a doubt I could pull that off. Might have to look into that. But I digress. . .
Anyway, the whole point of this post is to say that I love every single bit of that GardenRidge junk. The kitchen area alone sent my heart into palpitations. They have a mug stand that comes with four mugs for only $9.99. I wanted one of those when we lived in our house on Logan Street and I had a little coffee bar upstairs in our bedroom. It would have been perfect. I don't have a coffee bar now, but I still totally want one.
They have all those gadgets you see on TV too. A neck exerciser, a butt enhancer (think J-lo ass), an upside down tomato plant grower, and more! I want all that stuff. It's a good thing I don't watch TV all that much when infomercials are on. We'd be bankrupt for sure.
They have stands and stands of books. All different kinds. Some actually looked good. And they were all on sale for about $4 a piece. Who knows, one day it is possible I might would need a book about Birds of Connecticut. Or about Solving Your Personal Plumbing Issues (I was afraid to open that book). And yes. I meant to type "I might would." Don't other people say that?
I thought about buying a rug for Quincy. Right now he's been relegated to sleeping on the cold tile floor of our kitchen. But before you judge me, it was because, and I don't think I've mentioned this, he chewed a lovely hole in my beautiful oriental rug that he had been sleeping on. So I don't feel at all bad he's been sleeping on the floor. And GardenRidge had rugs for like $100. They are kind of ugly. But not expensive like an oriental rug. I'm still bitter about the rug. It happened about two months ago or something. Anyway, then I thought, I'd still be pissed if Quincy chewed a hole in a $100 rug too. So the cold tile floor it is. Again - Don't. Judge. Me.
The best part was that the Christmas stuff was all 75% off. I got four rolls of heavy duty wrapping paper for .75 a piece. And the very best score? A Miffy and Friends Christmas video. Joshua loves Miffy. And it was $1.50. He's watched it since it came home. Luckily, I can stay in the kitchen, so I don't hear it as much. But I do have to put up with dog slobber.
So, if you like some junk, like I like some junk, you totally have to go to GardenRidge. Mom and I spent all morning there. I didn't want to leave. I still think I need to go back and get that suit of armour in case Antiques Roadshow ever comes here. I just know that's my ticket to fame and fortune. . .
Happy day everyone!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Don't Judge This Post. I Am On Drugs Right Now.
There is one small disadvantage to being a stay-at-home mom.
More times than not, you have someone with you.
What I mean is, for instance, I am sick. Like pretty nasty sick. I have a head and chest cold like you would not believe. I don't feel like doing much of anything. Except sleep. Or stare at the computer screen in a decongestant induced haze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .oops. Yes. Like that. Decongestant induced hazes can be kind of fun.
Except for when you have a four and a half year old and it's only three days after Christmas, and there's slushy snow outside and cold as you know what. So that means you have to stay inside, and then he wants you to play firestation/aircraft carrier for hours on end.
And don't get me wrong. I know I signed up for this. And I do really, really love it. But there are times when you just want to be left alone. Are you picking up what I am putting down?
But seriously, can I ask my husband, who works on commission, to stay home and play with our son all day so that I can sleep? Or stare at the computer screen in a decongestant induced haze? Not really. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .oops, I did it again. Hey wait, isn't that a song? BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh me, I crack myself up when I am on decongestants. The sad thing is, I am probably the only one who found that amusing. But I promise you something. If you all go and take a couple of them, you'll find this post very amusing. Either that or you'll get to take a nice nap. I think both of those options are nice.
(Grinning stupidly at the computer screen)
So anyway, I still remember a time when it was just me and Jamey. And it would be an evening, or a weekend, and Jamey would decide spur of the moment to go mountain biking with one of his buddies. Or he'd need to help them with a house project, because they had been at our house the entire previous weekend helping with a project. Stuff like that. Or even better, they'd have to go to some motorcycle race or camping or something. And I'd have the house all to myself. For a day, or even a weekend. And it was just me and Harley (our first furry baby). That was blissful.
Decongestant induced haze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Whoops. And where was I? Oh yes. It was blissful. The weekends especially, at least at first. But I remember by the end of the first day, I'd start to get antsy. I'd get lonely. And by the end of the weekend, when Jamey would finally walk in the door, I'd practically pounce on him, because I was so happy he was back. I feel that way too now when I go away for mommy weekends. It's fun at first, but by the end of the weekend, I'm really ready to come back and be with my family.
Now I relish even an hour in the house by myself. I don't wish my family to be gone forever, but I appreciate the alone times a lot more than I thought I would. Is that awful? I hope not. I mean, doesn't everyone need a little time to themselves occasionally? I hope you are all nodding yes at your computer screens. Have I written about this before? Well, too late now. My brain is impaired and I can't think of anything else.
So what is the point of all this? I'm not sure, because the decongestants are kind of getting in the way of clear thinking. That and I keep having to interrupt my writing to go to the bathroom to blow my nose. Or Joshua wants me to draw another picture. Or play firestation. Oh yes. But the point is that now that I have a child of my own, the times that I am in my house alone are few and far between. And most of the time I like it that way. But not today. However, I have come up with a solution. And if any of you know me at all, you know exactly what it is. . .(Don't worry, this one is not a decongestant induced haze.)
It's a MiMi and PaPa day. They are my own brand of Calgon. (God bless you both. We'll be there in just a little while. I am going up to take a shower to rid myself of some of my decongestant induced haze right now.)
MiMi and PaPa, take me away!!!!
More times than not, you have someone with you.
What I mean is, for instance, I am sick. Like pretty nasty sick. I have a head and chest cold like you would not believe. I don't feel like doing much of anything. Except sleep. Or stare at the computer screen in a decongestant induced haze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .oops. Yes. Like that. Decongestant induced hazes can be kind of fun.
Except for when you have a four and a half year old and it's only three days after Christmas, and there's slushy snow outside and cold as you know what. So that means you have to stay inside, and then he wants you to play firestation/aircraft carrier for hours on end.
And don't get me wrong. I know I signed up for this. And I do really, really love it. But there are times when you just want to be left alone. Are you picking up what I am putting down?
But seriously, can I ask my husband, who works on commission, to stay home and play with our son all day so that I can sleep? Or stare at the computer screen in a decongestant induced haze? Not really. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .oops, I did it again. Hey wait, isn't that a song? BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh me, I crack myself up when I am on decongestants. The sad thing is, I am probably the only one who found that amusing. But I promise you something. If you all go and take a couple of them, you'll find this post very amusing. Either that or you'll get to take a nice nap. I think both of those options are nice.
(Grinning stupidly at the computer screen)
So anyway, I still remember a time when it was just me and Jamey. And it would be an evening, or a weekend, and Jamey would decide spur of the moment to go mountain biking with one of his buddies. Or he'd need to help them with a house project, because they had been at our house the entire previous weekend helping with a project. Stuff like that. Or even better, they'd have to go to some motorcycle race or camping or something. And I'd have the house all to myself. For a day, or even a weekend. And it was just me and Harley (our first furry baby). That was blissful.
Decongestant induced haze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Whoops. And where was I? Oh yes. It was blissful. The weekends especially, at least at first. But I remember by the end of the first day, I'd start to get antsy. I'd get lonely. And by the end of the weekend, when Jamey would finally walk in the door, I'd practically pounce on him, because I was so happy he was back. I feel that way too now when I go away for mommy weekends. It's fun at first, but by the end of the weekend, I'm really ready to come back and be with my family.
Now I relish even an hour in the house by myself. I don't wish my family to be gone forever, but I appreciate the alone times a lot more than I thought I would. Is that awful? I hope not. I mean, doesn't everyone need a little time to themselves occasionally? I hope you are all nodding yes at your computer screens. Have I written about this before? Well, too late now. My brain is impaired and I can't think of anything else.
So what is the point of all this? I'm not sure, because the decongestants are kind of getting in the way of clear thinking. That and I keep having to interrupt my writing to go to the bathroom to blow my nose. Or Joshua wants me to draw another picture. Or play firestation. Oh yes. But the point is that now that I have a child of my own, the times that I am in my house alone are few and far between. And most of the time I like it that way. But not today. However, I have come up with a solution. And if any of you know me at all, you know exactly what it is. . .(Don't worry, this one is not a decongestant induced haze.)
It's a MiMi and PaPa day. They are my own brand of Calgon. (God bless you both. We'll be there in just a little while. I am going up to take a shower to rid myself of some of my decongestant induced haze right now.)
MiMi and PaPa, take me away!!!!
Monday, December 20, 2010
It Really IS a Wonderful Life
We were at church last week and something came up about the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life". And in discussing the movie, our preacher asked us if we'd all seen it. Now, I myself had only watched it for the very first time a year ago. I believe I watched it after a friend of mine, who I happen to call "Miss Margaret", mentioned it on Facebook. And I thought, "Well if my friend, Miss Margaret, likes it, maybe I should watch it. So I did. And I sobbed at the end.
Jamey had been out somewhere and if I remember correctly, he came in the door just as the credits were rolling. He asked me why I was crying. And still sobbing, I could hardly choke out, "It's a Wonderful Life. Wonderful movie. (point to Jamey) Must. See. It." And Jamey rolled his eyes at me and said, "I will never watch that movie. My eighth grade teacher forced us to watch it and I refused to." I assume he must have slept through the classes it took to show the whole thing. Or drew or threw pencils into the ceiling tiles or made and shot spitballs or something. Anyway. . .
His statement almost made me cry even more. I mean, remember, the movie really put me over the edge. I practically begged him to watch it with me. But he refused. So fast forward back to present day. The preacher asks who hasn't seen it, and Jamey raises his hand. And she looks at him and says in a horrified voice, "You haven't watched it? Oh Jamey, you must see it. All of you whose hands are raised must see this movie." And of course Jamey looks over at me and I'm nodding my head so vigorously that it is probably in danger of popping off. Jamey just rolls his eyes again.
And then at the end of the service, the most exciting thing ever happened. My friend, Dawn, had come up and chatted with Teresa during the final song. And after the closing prayer, Dawn hopped up on stage and said, "Next week, we will be viewing 'It's a Wonderful Life'. We'll provide movie snacks and drinks." And I look over at Jamey who is definitely not super happy. And I just grin my biggest grin ever. Because I know what's coming.
So Saturday rolls around and Jamey has been a big grump all day. He hasn't slept well most of the week, we'd been up late the night before at a totally awesome ugly holiday sweater party, and I honestly thought he was going to bail on me. But I reminded him that our preacher would be decidedly unhappy about his absence if he stayed home. And he really likes and respects Teresa, and so he told me he knew he had to go.
We get there and true to their word, they have chicken nuggets, mini corn dogs, nachos, movie candy, sodas etc etc. I thought they'd have popcorn, but that was the one thing missing. Oh well. But we sit down and I can tell Jamey is still not happy and I start to wonder if he has a supply of pencils in his coat pockets, or some paper and a straw so that he can make spit balls. But the lights dim a little bit and then we start to watch. At first there's nothing from Jamey. But then after a while, I hear him chuckle at a funny part. And then, though I don't dare look over at him because I'm afraid I'll break the spell, I can tell. The movie is spinning its magic around my husband.
By the end of the movie, I am, of course, sobbing. And Jamey and my friend, Barb are each holding one of my hands, so I just let the tears roll down my face. I look over at Jamey and I say, "So?" And he looks back at me, and he says, "That. Was a fantastic movie. I have a lump in my throat." And I just beam at him. I knew he would love it. And although he had walked into church totally grouchy and irritated, now he takes my hand as we walk down the hall to get our little guy, and he looks at me again, and says, "I'm serious. That was probably one of, if not the best, movies I've ever seen. And just so you know, I'm totally not grouchy anymore." And I knew he wouldn't be. Because after watching a movie like that, you just can't be.
We talked about it all the way home. We talked about it after we put Joshua to bed. We both agreed we needed to own that movie. Coming from two people who only own three movies intended for people over the age of six? That's really saying something. We both also agreed that maybe it was better to be adults when we finally watched it. Because I don't know that I'd really appreciate its message as much if I were younger. It wouldn't have packed such a powerful punch for me.
I would love to launch into a complete review of the movie right here. Seriously. It's just so good. But, I don't want to ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it. So I'll say this much about it. The movie is truly, in my humble opinion, the best movie ever made. Period. See, here's the thing. It's a complete package. There's romance. There's drama. There's suspense. There's community. There's a real message. And the message is so overwhelming that it stays with you long after you watch it. Really. I'm not kidding. If you've never watched it and have had reservations about it, I beg of you to change your mind. If we could wrap up the message and sell it as an implant into our hearts and live the message every day, we'd be a totally cool planet.
Truly - It's a Wonderful Life!
Jamey had been out somewhere and if I remember correctly, he came in the door just as the credits were rolling. He asked me why I was crying. And still sobbing, I could hardly choke out, "It's a Wonderful Life. Wonderful movie. (point to Jamey) Must. See. It." And Jamey rolled his eyes at me and said, "I will never watch that movie. My eighth grade teacher forced us to watch it and I refused to." I assume he must have slept through the classes it took to show the whole thing. Or drew or threw pencils into the ceiling tiles or made and shot spitballs or something. Anyway. . .
His statement almost made me cry even more. I mean, remember, the movie really put me over the edge. I practically begged him to watch it with me. But he refused. So fast forward back to present day. The preacher asks who hasn't seen it, and Jamey raises his hand. And she looks at him and says in a horrified voice, "You haven't watched it? Oh Jamey, you must see it. All of you whose hands are raised must see this movie." And of course Jamey looks over at me and I'm nodding my head so vigorously that it is probably in danger of popping off. Jamey just rolls his eyes again.
And then at the end of the service, the most exciting thing ever happened. My friend, Dawn, had come up and chatted with Teresa during the final song. And after the closing prayer, Dawn hopped up on stage and said, "Next week, we will be viewing 'It's a Wonderful Life'. We'll provide movie snacks and drinks." And I look over at Jamey who is definitely not super happy. And I just grin my biggest grin ever. Because I know what's coming.
So Saturday rolls around and Jamey has been a big grump all day. He hasn't slept well most of the week, we'd been up late the night before at a totally awesome ugly holiday sweater party, and I honestly thought he was going to bail on me. But I reminded him that our preacher would be decidedly unhappy about his absence if he stayed home. And he really likes and respects Teresa, and so he told me he knew he had to go.
We get there and true to their word, they have chicken nuggets, mini corn dogs, nachos, movie candy, sodas etc etc. I thought they'd have popcorn, but that was the one thing missing. Oh well. But we sit down and I can tell Jamey is still not happy and I start to wonder if he has a supply of pencils in his coat pockets, or some paper and a straw so that he can make spit balls. But the lights dim a little bit and then we start to watch. At first there's nothing from Jamey. But then after a while, I hear him chuckle at a funny part. And then, though I don't dare look over at him because I'm afraid I'll break the spell, I can tell. The movie is spinning its magic around my husband.
By the end of the movie, I am, of course, sobbing. And Jamey and my friend, Barb are each holding one of my hands, so I just let the tears roll down my face. I look over at Jamey and I say, "So?" And he looks back at me, and he says, "That. Was a fantastic movie. I have a lump in my throat." And I just beam at him. I knew he would love it. And although he had walked into church totally grouchy and irritated, now he takes my hand as we walk down the hall to get our little guy, and he looks at me again, and says, "I'm serious. That was probably one of, if not the best, movies I've ever seen. And just so you know, I'm totally not grouchy anymore." And I knew he wouldn't be. Because after watching a movie like that, you just can't be.
We talked about it all the way home. We talked about it after we put Joshua to bed. We both agreed we needed to own that movie. Coming from two people who only own three movies intended for people over the age of six? That's really saying something. We both also agreed that maybe it was better to be adults when we finally watched it. Because I don't know that I'd really appreciate its message as much if I were younger. It wouldn't have packed such a powerful punch for me.
I would love to launch into a complete review of the movie right here. Seriously. It's just so good. But, I don't want to ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it. So I'll say this much about it. The movie is truly, in my humble opinion, the best movie ever made. Period. See, here's the thing. It's a complete package. There's romance. There's drama. There's suspense. There's community. There's a real message. And the message is so overwhelming that it stays with you long after you watch it. Really. I'm not kidding. If you've never watched it and have had reservations about it, I beg of you to change your mind. If we could wrap up the message and sell it as an implant into our hearts and live the message every day, we'd be a totally cool planet.
Truly - It's a Wonderful Life!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Fourteen Years Ago I Married a Lovely Man
It's Jamey's and my fourteenth wedding anniversary today.
I can't believe it. It doesn't seem like fourteen years ago. It seems like yesterday.
We have certainly had our share of hard times. But in these fourteen years, I have learned a lot about love. I have learned a lot about what marriage really is. So here you go. . .
Having a wedding is not having a marriage. The wedding is one day. A point in time. Unfortunately lots of brides get so focused on the wedding itself, that they forget that they will be making a commitment to another person. I remember telling myself over and over that at the end of the day on December 14th, no matter what else happened, the important thing was to have Jamey, me, the preacher, and God there, and that we needed to say our vows and mean them. That was what I needed to focus on. Not whether or not I had the right dress, or the right flowers, or the biggest band, or the biggest ring. My cake designer thought the most important thing was our cake. She was a little obsessed. But that's a story for another time.
I have also come to recognize that marriage is hard work. I always thought that being married would be easy. But it's harder than staying single in many ways. Then why get married at all? Because as far as I'm concerned, the rewards of being married, and doing the sometimes really hard work to stay married, those rewards far outweigh the rewards of being single. I have a person who's been with me for a long time. He knows me better than anyone else. He supports me like no other. He cares about taking care of me and cherishing me. And that, for me, is a prize worth holding on to. Funny enough, it didn't happen overnight. The way he does all those things for me. And cherishes me. But you know what? sometimes it still doesn't happen. The supporting and the caring and the cherishing. But those things are things I think you learn how to do the longer you are married. And we are just coming into our own with it. And it's starting to get really sweet.
Mostly though, I've learned that marriage is a choice. I've said it on here before. I choose to be married to Jamey every day. I try to consciously make that choice every day. That way, when we go through a rough patch (and believe me, there have been some), I continue to know that I am choosing to be married to my husband. I want to be with him through thick and thin.
Are we great at being married? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is we are both determined to stay together. And so we work really hard at it. Is it because we have a son together that we are so determined to make it? Honestly? I don't think so. I think it goes back to the commitment we made to each other fourteen years ago. I took it seriously. Jamey did too. I'd commit to it all over again. That's how strongly I feel about it.
Lest you think I'm preaching or bragging, I'm not. At all. We aren't perfect. We have both made some doozie mistakes. I bet you are wondering what those are. But if you think I'm gonna tell you, you're crazy. That's the husband/wife confidentiality agreement. ;o) But we absolutely know we aren't perfect in our relationship. That's why it's such hard work! And that's why when we get it right, it's awesome!
This relationship I choose to be in is not one that I would ever want to say, "Well if it doesn't work out, we can always get divorced." That's just not for me. I'm not saying I'd never get divorced. I don't like to tempt fate that way. However, I can tell you that I will work my hind end off to keep that from happening. Counseling, workshops, whatever it takes. I choose this life, because it is worth it.
I love you honey. Happy Anniversary!
I can't believe it. It doesn't seem like fourteen years ago. It seems like yesterday.
We have certainly had our share of hard times. But in these fourteen years, I have learned a lot about love. I have learned a lot about what marriage really is. So here you go. . .
Having a wedding is not having a marriage. The wedding is one day. A point in time. Unfortunately lots of brides get so focused on the wedding itself, that they forget that they will be making a commitment to another person. I remember telling myself over and over that at the end of the day on December 14th, no matter what else happened, the important thing was to have Jamey, me, the preacher, and God there, and that we needed to say our vows and mean them. That was what I needed to focus on. Not whether or not I had the right dress, or the right flowers, or the biggest band, or the biggest ring. My cake designer thought the most important thing was our cake. She was a little obsessed. But that's a story for another time.
I have also come to recognize that marriage is hard work. I always thought that being married would be easy. But it's harder than staying single in many ways. Then why get married at all? Because as far as I'm concerned, the rewards of being married, and doing the sometimes really hard work to stay married, those rewards far outweigh the rewards of being single. I have a person who's been with me for a long time. He knows me better than anyone else. He supports me like no other. He cares about taking care of me and cherishing me. And that, for me, is a prize worth holding on to. Funny enough, it didn't happen overnight. The way he does all those things for me. And cherishes me. But you know what? sometimes it still doesn't happen. The supporting and the caring and the cherishing. But those things are things I think you learn how to do the longer you are married. And we are just coming into our own with it. And it's starting to get really sweet.
Mostly though, I've learned that marriage is a choice. I've said it on here before. I choose to be married to Jamey every day. I try to consciously make that choice every day. That way, when we go through a rough patch (and believe me, there have been some), I continue to know that I am choosing to be married to my husband. I want to be with him through thick and thin.
Are we great at being married? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is we are both determined to stay together. And so we work really hard at it. Is it because we have a son together that we are so determined to make it? Honestly? I don't think so. I think it goes back to the commitment we made to each other fourteen years ago. I took it seriously. Jamey did too. I'd commit to it all over again. That's how strongly I feel about it.
Lest you think I'm preaching or bragging, I'm not. At all. We aren't perfect. We have both made some doozie mistakes. I bet you are wondering what those are. But if you think I'm gonna tell you, you're crazy. That's the husband/wife confidentiality agreement. ;o) But we absolutely know we aren't perfect in our relationship. That's why it's such hard work! And that's why when we get it right, it's awesome!
This relationship I choose to be in is not one that I would ever want to say, "Well if it doesn't work out, we can always get divorced." That's just not for me. I'm not saying I'd never get divorced. I don't like to tempt fate that way. However, I can tell you that I will work my hind end off to keep that from happening. Counseling, workshops, whatever it takes. I choose this life, because it is worth it.
I love you honey. Happy Anniversary!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Trying to Get Rid of My Holiday Stress. Oh! And an Update on My Contest Entry.
So before I start my post, I must tell you that I did something very brave today. I printed out my 50 page entry for the unpublished novel contest. It is sitting right in front of me, and I am looking at it as I type my post. I am taking it to mail it out right before I pick Joshua up from school.
It was both scary and exciting printing out those pages. Scary, because now that they are printed out, and I have made my check out, I kind of feel like I can't go back. But also really exciting, because I wrote a whole book! I still can't believe that. And it actually was pretty cool to look at my words printed out on paper rather than looking at them on a computer screen. Fifty pages is a lot of pages! I was surprised how heavy it felt in my hands. So anyway, wish me luck on the contest! And you'll still love me, even if I don't become a finalist, right?
I started writing a post about how much stress I'm feeling about the upcoming holidays. There is so much to do. We've decorated, but that's about it. And Joshua only has about a week and a half left of preschool till he's out for break. You know. If you're picking up what I'm putting down, here. . .
And so I started to write about all that. But why would I do that? It will only stress me more. So instead, I'm going to do what any other normal person would do right now. I'm totally going to bury my head in the sand and pretend that I've got everything under control. (Please tell me that is what you are doing too. Don't tell me that you've had all your Christmas shopping done since the day after Christmas last year. Because that will just make me irritated with you and add more stress to my brain. And then my poor brain will explode, and you'll have to come visit me in the hospital and bring me a huge present for doing that to me. OK?)
In the spirit of burying my head in the sand, I'm going to think about all the things I really enjoy about the Christmas season that I don't have to do. That I can just be part of and enjoy. I'm thinking.
Hang on. I'm still thinking. . .
There must be something.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?
I seriously can't think of any part of Christmas that I am not involved with on some level. I generally buy and wrap most all of the presents. I usually take Joshua to see Santa. Jamey does sometimes come with me for that. But I am always part of that. I have to make all the meal preparations. And I usually do most of the decorating. Isn't there anything? OK. Never mind.
No wonder my last nerve is shot by Christmas Day. But you know what? I still love it. Stress and all. Because I loooooooooove watching my kid open up all his presents from Santa. I love watching the wrapping paper fly all around the room. (Last year, I couldn't find Jamey after we'd cleaned up all the wrapping paper, and I seriously wondered if I'd put him out in our recycling bin. Lucky for all of us, he'd just gone upstairs for a few minutes.) You all know that when it comes down to it, I love all the baking, and the cooking, and the fun of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
I love watching his innocence about the magic of Santa Claus. I love hearing him sing Happy Birthday to Jesus and eating the birthday cake we make for Him. I love the lights, the music, the feelings that come with it.
So I'll take the stress thank you very much. It's all worth it in the end.
Happy day to you all!
It was both scary and exciting printing out those pages. Scary, because now that they are printed out, and I have made my check out, I kind of feel like I can't go back. But also really exciting, because I wrote a whole book! I still can't believe that. And it actually was pretty cool to look at my words printed out on paper rather than looking at them on a computer screen. Fifty pages is a lot of pages! I was surprised how heavy it felt in my hands. So anyway, wish me luck on the contest! And you'll still love me, even if I don't become a finalist, right?
I started writing a post about how much stress I'm feeling about the upcoming holidays. There is so much to do. We've decorated, but that's about it. And Joshua only has about a week and a half left of preschool till he's out for break. You know. If you're picking up what I'm putting down, here. . .
And so I started to write about all that. But why would I do that? It will only stress me more. So instead, I'm going to do what any other normal person would do right now. I'm totally going to bury my head in the sand and pretend that I've got everything under control. (Please tell me that is what you are doing too. Don't tell me that you've had all your Christmas shopping done since the day after Christmas last year. Because that will just make me irritated with you and add more stress to my brain. And then my poor brain will explode, and you'll have to come visit me in the hospital and bring me a huge present for doing that to me. OK?)
In the spirit of burying my head in the sand, I'm going to think about all the things I really enjoy about the Christmas season that I don't have to do. That I can just be part of and enjoy. I'm thinking.
Hang on. I'm still thinking. . .
There must be something.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?
I seriously can't think of any part of Christmas that I am not involved with on some level. I generally buy and wrap most all of the presents. I usually take Joshua to see Santa. Jamey does sometimes come with me for that. But I am always part of that. I have to make all the meal preparations. And I usually do most of the decorating. Isn't there anything? OK. Never mind.
No wonder my last nerve is shot by Christmas Day. But you know what? I still love it. Stress and all. Because I loooooooooove watching my kid open up all his presents from Santa. I love watching the wrapping paper fly all around the room. (Last year, I couldn't find Jamey after we'd cleaned up all the wrapping paper, and I seriously wondered if I'd put him out in our recycling bin. Lucky for all of us, he'd just gone upstairs for a few minutes.) You all know that when it comes down to it, I love all the baking, and the cooking, and the fun of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
I love watching his innocence about the magic of Santa Claus. I love hearing him sing Happy Birthday to Jesus and eating the birthday cake we make for Him. I love the lights, the music, the feelings that come with it.
So I'll take the stress thank you very much. It's all worth it in the end.
Happy day to you all!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Things I Am Thankful For
OK, so in light of the fact that it is the day before Thanksgiving, and because I know myself well enough to know that I will probably not be coming on here tomorrow to post because, let's face it, it is going to be very busy, I thought I would write a post today. And also because it is Thanksgiving tomorrow, doesn't it just make sense to do a "Thankful for" list? Of course it does.
And so I am going to write one right now. Some of them may be a little silly. And some are not. I hope you enjoy my list. I also hope you have one of your own.
I am thankful for. . .
1. Evite. It makes invitation giving so easy.
2. Books. I love reading.
3. Curious George Movies. Well the one on PBS this morning. Cos I got to snuggle with Joshua while we watched it.
4. The beach.
5. Secret hiding spots for my stamps.
6. Online Bill Pay.
7. Thanksgiving meals. Specifically turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, stuffing and pumpkin pie.
8. Coffee.
9. Ranch Dressing.
10. Ice Cream.
11. Catalogs, newspapers, and real estate magazines and those who sneak them to me.
12. Bad Bean Taqueria.
13. Blogs.
14. Yummy smelling shampoos, conditioners and bath soaps.
15. Scrub free shower cleanser and toilet bowl cleanser.
16. Cameras and Video Recorders. They capture so many good memories.
17. My kitchen aid mixer.
18. Christmas decorations.
19. Christmas cookies.
20. Coloring books and crayons.
21. Facebook.
22. Lollipops and free cookies at the grocery store to keep a little boy entertained during big shopping days.
23. Target.
24. Goody bags at triathlons and races.
25. Ginger Peach tea.
26. Screened in Porches.
27. Really good coupons, or get something absolutely free/no purchase necessary offers.
28. Really great haircuts.
29. Landing safely after flying. (WHEW.)
30. Restaurant gift certificates.
And now that I've listed out some of my sillier things I'm thankful for, I'll tell you what I am really thankful for. I am thankful that I have an absolutely fabulous set of parents. They really are so fabulous that I could never express it well enough here, so you'll just have to take my word for it.
I am thankful for my sister, even if we don't get to get together that frequently, and I hope that changes.
I am thankful that I have a great bunch of friends right here in my neighborhood. Y'all rock!
I am thankful for my BFF, Yvette. She is so awesome, and I pray every day that we won't always live so far away from each other. Love you big, girlfriend!
I am thankful to infinity and beyond that Jamey convinced me to have a baby. Because Joshua is such a joy to have in my life that I could cry with happiness every time I think of him.
I am thankful for Jamey. We have made it through some pretty tough times over the past almost 14 years of marriage. And I know we are in for more tough times. But the good times overshadow the tough times so much that it absolutely makes it all worth it. I am thankful that I choose to be married to a great man every day.
I am thankful that we have a warm house, food on the table every day and, although they might not be very stylish, clothes to put on our backs each day.
I am thankful that my little boy has a cozy bed with lots of babies in it to keep him company each night.
I am thankful that we were lucky enough to be born in a country that we don't have to be afraid to live in. We might get irritated with our leaders, but I don't think many of us realize how truly lucky we are to live here. I include myself in this.
I am thankful that we are healthy. Both physically, and somewhat emotionally.
I am thankful that I have found a love for writing this year. And I am thankful that some of you enjoy reading what I write.
I am thankful that I have a church where I don't have to hide how I feel and pretend that things are "fine" when they might not be. It is a community of real support. And I am most thankful that I have learned and continue to see that God loves me. Wherever I am in my journey.
Happy Thanksgiving.
And so I am going to write one right now. Some of them may be a little silly. And some are not. I hope you enjoy my list. I also hope you have one of your own.
I am thankful for. . .
1. Evite. It makes invitation giving so easy.
2. Books. I love reading.
3. Curious George Movies. Well the one on PBS this morning. Cos I got to snuggle with Joshua while we watched it.
4. The beach.
5. Secret hiding spots for my stamps.
6. Online Bill Pay.
7. Thanksgiving meals. Specifically turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, stuffing and pumpkin pie.
8. Coffee.
9. Ranch Dressing.
10. Ice Cream.
11. Catalogs, newspapers, and real estate magazines and those who sneak them to me.
12. Bad Bean Taqueria.
13. Blogs.
14. Yummy smelling shampoos, conditioners and bath soaps.
15. Scrub free shower cleanser and toilet bowl cleanser.
16. Cameras and Video Recorders. They capture so many good memories.
17. My kitchen aid mixer.
18. Christmas decorations.
19. Christmas cookies.
20. Coloring books and crayons.
21. Facebook.
22. Lollipops and free cookies at the grocery store to keep a little boy entertained during big shopping days.
23. Target.
24. Goody bags at triathlons and races.
25. Ginger Peach tea.
26. Screened in Porches.
27. Really good coupons, or get something absolutely free/no purchase necessary offers.
28. Really great haircuts.
29. Landing safely after flying. (WHEW.)
30. Restaurant gift certificates.
And now that I've listed out some of my sillier things I'm thankful for, I'll tell you what I am really thankful for. I am thankful that I have an absolutely fabulous set of parents. They really are so fabulous that I could never express it well enough here, so you'll just have to take my word for it.
I am thankful for my sister, even if we don't get to get together that frequently, and I hope that changes.
I am thankful that I have a great bunch of friends right here in my neighborhood. Y'all rock!
I am thankful for my BFF, Yvette. She is so awesome, and I pray every day that we won't always live so far away from each other. Love you big, girlfriend!
I am thankful to infinity and beyond that Jamey convinced me to have a baby. Because Joshua is such a joy to have in my life that I could cry with happiness every time I think of him.
I am thankful for Jamey. We have made it through some pretty tough times over the past almost 14 years of marriage. And I know we are in for more tough times. But the good times overshadow the tough times so much that it absolutely makes it all worth it. I am thankful that I choose to be married to a great man every day.
I am thankful that we have a warm house, food on the table every day and, although they might not be very stylish, clothes to put on our backs each day.
I am thankful that my little boy has a cozy bed with lots of babies in it to keep him company each night.
I am thankful that we were lucky enough to be born in a country that we don't have to be afraid to live in. We might get irritated with our leaders, but I don't think many of us realize how truly lucky we are to live here. I include myself in this.
I am thankful that we are healthy. Both physically, and somewhat emotionally.
I am thankful that I have found a love for writing this year. And I am thankful that some of you enjoy reading what I write.
I am thankful that I have a church where I don't have to hide how I feel and pretend that things are "fine" when they might not be. It is a community of real support. And I am most thankful that I have learned and continue to see that God loves me. Wherever I am in my journey.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 22, 2010
OK, Fine. I Have Some Peculiar Habits I Guess. (OCD Maybe?)
First of all, I wrote a post about my beautiful sleepy boy over the weekend. Hardly anybody has read it. And I love it. So please go read it.
Real quick, we decorated for Christmas yesterday. I know it's a little early, but we have a lovely guest coming for Thanksgiving dinner, and so I wanted it to be done before she got here. Plus, we are the type that are itching to take the decorations down, like, the day after Christmas. So we need to put them up earlier to enjoy them.
However, I am on edge until after Christmas this year. We bought our pre-lit Christmas tree, ohhhhh let's seeeeee. . .I think in 2000? So it's going on its 10th year. And the pine needles all over the floor are impossible. It is shedding worse than a real tree that hasn't been watered for the entire Christmas season. And those pre-lit lights? Well I am waiting with nervous knots in my stomach till after Christmas. Because three separate rows of branches had massive portions that did not light up when I plugged them in. They finally flickered on; however, that does not bode well for the remainder of the season. Hopefully it will last, and then we have to think about getting a new one. Anyone like to go shopping the day after Christmas? And if you do, would you pick us up a new Christmas tree? I'll give you the money and everything. Thanks.
So we were at church on Saturday night and I got to talking with a friend of mine. She was upset because someone was sitting in her and her husband's seats. Now, I know that we are supposed to be good Christians and should be happy that there are new faces coming to our church and all, but I knew exactly what she was talking about. As a church, we talk about how we all don't like change. It is scary and uncomfortable, but it is also necessary for transformation.
That said, I can relate to her. I have scared people out of "our seats" just by "teasing them" about it. Because frankly, those are my seats. I'm OCD that way. I can't help it. There are lots of things I can't control in my life. But if I don't get to sit in my same seat at church on Saturday nights, I'm really kind of cranky. I know this is not making a good showing for my Christianity, but I am just trying to be honest and real. I recognize it is a large character defect of mine. I'm working on it, OK?
Want another example? Years and years ago, when Jamey and I were just dating, we were paying bills together. He had brought his over to the apartment I shared with my good friend Jen, and we sat there doing our own bills when he asked me for a stamp. I handed him the book of stamps I had with all my stuff. I watched as he started to take one out of the book. On the wrong side. So I said, "Jamey, please take it out in order." He looked at me like I was crazy. "What do you mean?" he said. So, I showed him how on the other side I had taken one row out already, and then I said that he needed to take the one on the left in the next row. And he started laughing at me. And then he did something truly horrible.
He flipped over the book of stamps, and he took one directly out of the middle of the book.
I immediately grabbed the book of stamps back and also the stamp he had taken out. I proceeded to line it up perfectly and put it back in the book. (Although that book of stamps was ruined now, as far as I was concerned, but I was poor so I had to use it up.) I asked him how many he needed (in a not very nice voice). And he was all, like, "Are you kidding me?" and laughing even harder now. Which made me even more angry. Then he realized I was quite serious. And he stopped laughing. I think I scared him a little. Kind of like the people I teased about sitting in our seats. Anyway, so now, some fifteen or sixteen years later, he still has to ask me for stamps. And I get them from their little secret hiding place and will give him however many he needs.
Is that wrong?
I don't think so.
Do you all do anything like that? I will not apologize for it or think I'm crazy. Stamps need to come out in the right order!!!! And there should be assigned seating at church. That's all there is to it. :)
Real quick, we decorated for Christmas yesterday. I know it's a little early, but we have a lovely guest coming for Thanksgiving dinner, and so I wanted it to be done before she got here. Plus, we are the type that are itching to take the decorations down, like, the day after Christmas. So we need to put them up earlier to enjoy them.
However, I am on edge until after Christmas this year. We bought our pre-lit Christmas tree, ohhhhh let's seeeeee. . .I think in 2000? So it's going on its 10th year. And the pine needles all over the floor are impossible. It is shedding worse than a real tree that hasn't been watered for the entire Christmas season. And those pre-lit lights? Well I am waiting with nervous knots in my stomach till after Christmas. Because three separate rows of branches had massive portions that did not light up when I plugged them in. They finally flickered on; however, that does not bode well for the remainder of the season. Hopefully it will last, and then we have to think about getting a new one. Anyone like to go shopping the day after Christmas? And if you do, would you pick us up a new Christmas tree? I'll give you the money and everything. Thanks.
So we were at church on Saturday night and I got to talking with a friend of mine. She was upset because someone was sitting in her and her husband's seats. Now, I know that we are supposed to be good Christians and should be happy that there are new faces coming to our church and all, but I knew exactly what she was talking about. As a church, we talk about how we all don't like change. It is scary and uncomfortable, but it is also necessary for transformation.
That said, I can relate to her. I have scared people out of "our seats" just by "teasing them" about it. Because frankly, those are my seats. I'm OCD that way. I can't help it. There are lots of things I can't control in my life. But if I don't get to sit in my same seat at church on Saturday nights, I'm really kind of cranky. I know this is not making a good showing for my Christianity, but I am just trying to be honest and real. I recognize it is a large character defect of mine. I'm working on it, OK?
Want another example? Years and years ago, when Jamey and I were just dating, we were paying bills together. He had brought his over to the apartment I shared with my good friend Jen, and we sat there doing our own bills when he asked me for a stamp. I handed him the book of stamps I had with all my stuff. I watched as he started to take one out of the book. On the wrong side. So I said, "Jamey, please take it out in order." He looked at me like I was crazy. "What do you mean?" he said. So, I showed him how on the other side I had taken one row out already, and then I said that he needed to take the one on the left in the next row. And he started laughing at me. And then he did something truly horrible.
He flipped over the book of stamps, and he took one directly out of the middle of the book.
I immediately grabbed the book of stamps back and also the stamp he had taken out. I proceeded to line it up perfectly and put it back in the book. (Although that book of stamps was ruined now, as far as I was concerned, but I was poor so I had to use it up.) I asked him how many he needed (in a not very nice voice). And he was all, like, "Are you kidding me?" and laughing even harder now. Which made me even more angry. Then he realized I was quite serious. And he stopped laughing. I think I scared him a little. Kind of like the people I teased about sitting in our seats. Anyway, so now, some fifteen or sixteen years later, he still has to ask me for stamps. And I get them from their little secret hiding place and will give him however many he needs.
Is that wrong?
I don't think so.
Do you all do anything like that? I will not apologize for it or think I'm crazy. Stamps need to come out in the right order!!!! And there should be assigned seating at church. That's all there is to it. :)
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Short Post Today - My Husband Rocks!
My husband ROCKS. He finished his marathon in 4:14:34! Way to go Jamey!!!!
I may have done permanent damage to my vocal chords. Oopsie. My throat is raw from yelling!
A big thanks to my friend Rachel who came around with me to all the stops. You rock too girlfriend!
We are all pooped. Jamey from the marathon, me from the stress of running all over creation and stressing out whether I missed him at each stop (except the first one, and no, I didn't miss him at any of them), and Joshua because he woke up at 5:50 this morning. He was at MiMi & PaPa's. Ugh. That makes me hate Daylights Savings Time. I swear I could run for President of the United States and have that one thing as my "issue" that I would fix. And every single parent of young children would vote for me and I'd win. And I'd fix that, and then I would not do anything else the rest of the time I was in office except go to great parties and wear lots of cool clothes.
Jamey is walking around like he is a little old man. He just came through the kitchen, and he said he was afraid of the next several days. That he has pains he didn't know could exist. And since I've been there, I told him that he should be afraid of the next several days. He should be very, very afraid. . .
So now I'm all jonesing to run next year. I plan on it. But don't hold me to it or anything. You never know about injuries or who knows what else. But I really hope to be out there to do another marathon. I miss that feeling of accomplishment in running that long.
But it's true. My man ROCKS! Yay Jamey!
I may have done permanent damage to my vocal chords. Oopsie. My throat is raw from yelling!
A big thanks to my friend Rachel who came around with me to all the stops. You rock too girlfriend!
We are all pooped. Jamey from the marathon, me from the stress of running all over creation and stressing out whether I missed him at each stop (except the first one, and no, I didn't miss him at any of them), and Joshua because he woke up at 5:50 this morning. He was at MiMi & PaPa's. Ugh. That makes me hate Daylights Savings Time. I swear I could run for President of the United States and have that one thing as my "issue" that I would fix. And every single parent of young children would vote for me and I'd win. And I'd fix that, and then I would not do anything else the rest of the time I was in office except go to great parties and wear lots of cool clothes.
Jamey is walking around like he is a little old man. He just came through the kitchen, and he said he was afraid of the next several days. That he has pains he didn't know could exist. And since I've been there, I told him that he should be afraid of the next several days. He should be very, very afraid. . .
So now I'm all jonesing to run next year. I plan on it. But don't hold me to it or anything. You never know about injuries or who knows what else. But I really hope to be out there to do another marathon. I miss that feeling of accomplishment in running that long.
But it's true. My man ROCKS! Yay Jamey!
Friday, November 12, 2010
It's a Big Day Tomorrow! I'm So Proud of My Husband!!!!
So it's a big day tomorrow. . .my husband is running his first marathon! :)
I am so excited for him. He's wanted to do this for a long, long time. And also a little bit glad. He's been totally stressed out this week. (Sorry honey, but you know it's true. And I still love you.) But now, the night before the race, he is almost giddy. Pre-race high. It's funny to watch him right now. I made him a special dinner - chicken, broccoli and pasta. Poured some spaghetti sauce over it, and sprinkled some cheese over it. Lovely pre-race dinner.
And now he's getting all his "stuff" ready. Race belt. Race Number. Timing Chip. Powerade. Gu. Clothes. The list just goes on forever. For anyone who's out on the course tomorrow, his number is 3373. He will be wearing a yellow sleeveless shirt, black shorts, and black socks. He's taped "Jamey" to his shirt so people can yell for him. I hope he gets lots of cheers. He's hoping to run it in less than four hours. I'm totally jealous of that time goal.
I will proudly and enthusiastically go out and cheer him on tomorrow. He has done the same for me - twice. I have run two marathons. And he came out both times and cheered me on from several different spots. So I will be driving around with my friend Rachel from place to place. Screaming when he runs by. And then we'll hop in the car and race to the next place to stop and see him. I am also his "roadside assistance". I will be holding extra gu's, powerade, body glide (which is NOT what you dirty minds are thinking. It's stuff to keep you from chaffing!) and whatever else he wants me to take.
So in honor of the marathon going on tomorrow, I'll tell you how excited I was the first time I ran.
Of course, my BFF, Yvette, came all the way from Texas to run with me. That meant so much to me. And we made a pact. We would cross the finish line together and hold hands. I was really slow, and I remember I was worried I wouldn't be an official finisher. Jamey came out and cheered me on along with my mom and his buddy Jeff. There were several other people out on the course too, and it was really great to have the support. Then towards the end, around mile 21 or so, Yvette looked over at me, and she said, "You know, even if we walked the rest of the way, you'd be an official finisher." And I promptly burst into to tears. I was so excited.
Then the finish came. Jamey had assembled a HUGE bunch of people to watch us come into the finishing chute. And Yvette and I came down the big hill. And I saw the first couple of people cheering me on, and I started to choke up. A little further and there were a few more. And then I was crying. And then I heard my friend Jennifer, who was helping call out names as they came across the finish line. I hadn't seen her and hadn't thought about her being there. And I took off! I was so excited to see her!!! And I grabbed her hand and then crossed the finish line and then. . .oopsie. I missed Jamey. And the whole crowd of people who had gathered to watch me finish. Because Jennifer was on the opposite side of the street. And I forgot to run to the finish line with Yvette and hold hands across the line. Oops. I still feel awful about that. All those people and I totally didn't look. Sigh.
So tomorrow, if Jamey gets excited and doesn't see me at the finish, I can hardly hold it against him, can I? Running your first marathon can do some funny things to your head, especially at the end. I am so happy for him. I am so proud of him. I can't wait!
Go Jamey!!! NUMBER 3373 in the 2010 SunTrust Richmond Marathon!!!
I am so excited for him. He's wanted to do this for a long, long time. And also a little bit glad. He's been totally stressed out this week. (Sorry honey, but you know it's true. And I still love you.) But now, the night before the race, he is almost giddy. Pre-race high. It's funny to watch him right now. I made him a special dinner - chicken, broccoli and pasta. Poured some spaghetti sauce over it, and sprinkled some cheese over it. Lovely pre-race dinner.
And now he's getting all his "stuff" ready. Race belt. Race Number. Timing Chip. Powerade. Gu. Clothes. The list just goes on forever. For anyone who's out on the course tomorrow, his number is 3373. He will be wearing a yellow sleeveless shirt, black shorts, and black socks. He's taped "Jamey" to his shirt so people can yell for him. I hope he gets lots of cheers. He's hoping to run it in less than four hours. I'm totally jealous of that time goal.
I will proudly and enthusiastically go out and cheer him on tomorrow. He has done the same for me - twice. I have run two marathons. And he came out both times and cheered me on from several different spots. So I will be driving around with my friend Rachel from place to place. Screaming when he runs by. And then we'll hop in the car and race to the next place to stop and see him. I am also his "roadside assistance". I will be holding extra gu's, powerade, body glide (which is NOT what you dirty minds are thinking. It's stuff to keep you from chaffing!) and whatever else he wants me to take.
So in honor of the marathon going on tomorrow, I'll tell you how excited I was the first time I ran.
Of course, my BFF, Yvette, came all the way from Texas to run with me. That meant so much to me. And we made a pact. We would cross the finish line together and hold hands. I was really slow, and I remember I was worried I wouldn't be an official finisher. Jamey came out and cheered me on along with my mom and his buddy Jeff. There were several other people out on the course too, and it was really great to have the support. Then towards the end, around mile 21 or so, Yvette looked over at me, and she said, "You know, even if we walked the rest of the way, you'd be an official finisher." And I promptly burst into to tears. I was so excited.
Then the finish came. Jamey had assembled a HUGE bunch of people to watch us come into the finishing chute. And Yvette and I came down the big hill. And I saw the first couple of people cheering me on, and I started to choke up. A little further and there were a few more. And then I was crying. And then I heard my friend Jennifer, who was helping call out names as they came across the finish line. I hadn't seen her and hadn't thought about her being there. And I took off! I was so excited to see her!!! And I grabbed her hand and then crossed the finish line and then. . .oopsie. I missed Jamey. And the whole crowd of people who had gathered to watch me finish. Because Jennifer was on the opposite side of the street. And I forgot to run to the finish line with Yvette and hold hands across the line. Oops. I still feel awful about that. All those people and I totally didn't look. Sigh.
So tomorrow, if Jamey gets excited and doesn't see me at the finish, I can hardly hold it against him, can I? Running your first marathon can do some funny things to your head, especially at the end. I am so happy for him. I am so proud of him. I can't wait!
Go Jamey!!! NUMBER 3373 in the 2010 SunTrust Richmond Marathon!!!
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