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Random Silliness (without the use of children)

So, most people that have blogs have a certain subject they often use as their subject matter, and often that's children or something. I don't have kids yet, but I have the funniest darn things happen to me on a regular basis! Even if these things involve me and humiliation, I always share my stories with others, so I'm now typing it instead of telling the story over and over. I am a firm advocate of laughing hysterically as often as possible, and I hope my random stories help you laugh, too!

Sunday, April 29, 2007

It hurt so good!

Friday evening, the husband and I received our first massages ever. I've always wanted one, but never followed through with it. So, I made an appointment for both of us. I asked for a male and the husband insisted on a female. We got there and had to fill out these information cards about our medical histories and the reason we were getting massages. It took a few minutes, and I returned the clip boards to the receptionist. She told us to give our information cards to our therapists. I sat back down and quickly reviewed "no-no spots" with the husband, and he gave me that look like, "do we have to go over this right here/right now?" HEE HEE! The husband was called first. He was paired with a middle-aged Hispanic lady. She looked nice. I was next. I was paired with Clarence. He reminded me of Solomon from "The Hand That Rocks the Cradle" as soon as I saw him, but I could tell there was something strange with his eyes. One of them looked fake while the other was just wandering around and doing its own thing. Whatever. He was smiling and looked nice (and strong). He extended his hand to me and told me we would be going to the first room on the right. He held my hand all the way to the room. I thought that maybe he had some major vision problems. He started feeling his way around the room. This whole time, I'm holding on to the information card that explains why I'm getting the freaking massage to begin with. Oh, well. I just shoved it in my purse, in case it was needed later. He started the massage, but always used my feet and head as guides as he walked around the table. I started on my back. He massaged my arms, hands, head and face. He was a little sloppy with my face, but I guess the fact that he was blind could have been the reason. Before he had me turn over, he flicked my face twice with the towel that he eventually put over the face ring. He had a big smile on his face when he did this, and it just made me giggle inside. What the heck was that for? After my hour was up, I got dressed and met Clarence outside the door. He was waiting with a glass of water for me. I thanked him and reached my hand out for him to shake. I don't know why I did this. I knew he was blind. I tried. So, I met the husband in the lobby. He was so relaxed that he didn't even smile. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop giggling. On the way home, I questioned him about his hour and if his masseuse flicked him in the face with a towel. She didn't. The massage itself was great, but the whole situation was SO me! How do I get in these hilarious situations where I can't laugh out loud? I ignored my bestest friend, Jenn, for an entire day because I couldn't talk about it yet. It was still too funny. I don't want to seem disrespectful or anything. It was a wonderful, relaxing experience, BUT it was also funny! I'm very thankful that part of my story isn't a bizarre comment from Clarence, like "Ooooh, I like a girl with short, curly hair" or "My, what HUGE eyes you have." HEE HEE!

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Funny stories galore!

Monday night:
We got a new patio set and put it out on the deck. I was just so excited to sit out there and have dinner and play on the laptop and sip lemonade and everything. So, I took the laptop out there and got settled in for a couple of hours of fresh air. The husband was finishing the news, but joined me as soon as it was over. He shut the sliding glass door behind him. Let me fill you in on this sliding glass door. When we were looking at the condo, the Realtor told us that is was different than other doors because it was designed to protect against wind and water leak/damage. It was designed a little backwards compared to a “normal” sliding glass door, but it has blah blah features in the event of a hurricane or whatever. Last week, I told the husband that it wasn’t locking as easily as it used to. Well, we’re outside enjoying the weather when he decides to go in for something. He couldn’t open the door. He pushed/pulled/shoved, etc. but it wasn’t going to budge. I got tickled, because that’s my reaction to almost everything. He glared at me like “you better cut that out – I’ve had a rough day.” So, I tried to control myself, but started giggling even louder. He even chuckled a little after I got out of control. I might have wet myself just a little. He had his keys and phone, and I had the laptop. The weather was perfect, so I was pretty content. I knew that we would get in somehow. Well, our neighbors that share a deck with us (there’s an 8-foot privacy wall in between us) were in and out all night. I told the husband that we could ask them to either let him climb over and go downstairs and in our door to let me back in. Or, we could throw them his keys, and they could go in and let us out (in). The only problem with that is I baked cookies for them a few weeks ago, and the husband acted like he thought that was weird. I was trying to be Martha Stewart, but I’m not sure if they took it that way OR if they thought I was a crazy lady. Then, last week, I invited them over to watch American Idol with us and the guys across the street (the gaybors). The husband thanked me, but said his wife just got home and they hadn’t eaten dinner yet. He said that we’d have to get together for dinner one night. (yeah, right) If I wasn’t CRAZY, maybe we would, but I don’t think we will. So, I had come to the conclusion that we probably wouldn’t have the kind of relationship with them where we give them a spare key so they can borrow a cup of sugar or an egg while we’re at work. That’s just a hunch, though. So, back to our situation where we’re stranded on our deck. We both sort of figure that if we ask them for help, that we’re desperate for friends or attention or something. I don’t know, but I didn’t really want to ask them. Next, I decided to make a “HELP!” sign on the computer. Then, I could hold the laptop up so everyone could see it and someone would rescue us. The husband's big idea was to call and order pizza, and make the delivery person unlock the front door and come let us out. That plan would completely blow the Weight Watchers diet for the week, for sure! Steve kept looking over the edge. He told me that he was going to jump. I told him that unless he wanted to spend yet another day in the emergency room, that wasn’t really a good idea. Now that I think about it, I’m not so sure if he was going to jump to rescue me or to get away from me. HEE HEE! During the final moments of our predicament, the husband said that he was going to jump…head first. It had been almost two hours, and it was getting dark. Then, the neighbor (one of the gaybors) went outside to walk his dog. The husband asked him if he could help us. He’s really nice! So, he came to the rescue. After we went inside, we decided that it was the perfect time to use our 35 bonus WW points, so we went to Coldstone and splurged. It was an interesting evening for us, to say the least!

Tuesday:
We had a lecture at school Tuesday evening. We always provide refreshments, and when it's a certain person's turn to take care of the catering, she always chooses to have fried chicken as part of the refreshments. I don't understand how fruit and cheese trays are overlooked in order to serve chicken. Fried chicken. So, this student gets there late and helps herself to some chicken. My coworker told her that he would heat it up in the microwave if she wanted. She laid the back of her hand on the edge of the chicken part, then picked up her hand and placed it on the other edge of the chicken. It wasn't a quick gesture. It was very awkward to watch her check her chicken's temperature as if it wasn't feeling well. I guess you might have had to be there, but it was really hilarious.

Wednesday:
Gaybors in good graces again.
The gaybors came over Wednesday night for American Idol results night. They brought brownies, and we had points to spare. Yum! The husband is a normal guy and is a little bit of a homophobe. But, he was willing to hang out with them for me, because he knows how hurt I was when they stood us up last week. Well, he totally liked them! We talked about all of the weirdos in the nieghborhood and talked about Idol and who we thought would win and just a little bit of everything. We laughed all evening. They are a lot of fun, and the husband realized why I wanted them as friends.

Jackson's diet update:
Jackson's doctor mentioned he could lose a pound or two. Literally - no more than 2 lbs. So, we got him a smaller bowl and have noticed he's been eating less. Then, he threw up twice yesterday. The husband thinks he's bulemic because the doctor mentioned those extra pounds. He definitely didn't get that from me! I do not believe in puking for any reason, and I never have! Please remember Jackson and his eating disorder in your prayers.

Thursday:
It was Weight Watchers night. I lost almost 3 lbs. I'm up to 6.6 lbs in 2 weeks! That's good enough for me! I didn't write down all of my points this week, but I know that I didn't ever go over. I also didn't drink as much water as I should have. The husband is -8.6 lbs in 2 weeks! We had date night at Applebee's after the meeting. Our server was really tan. Like tanorexic. Well, he said something about us both ordering from the WW menu. He said that he weighed 262 lbs. We didn't ask. He was short, husky, and tan. I told the husband that I would call him "Beefcake" and we both got really tickled each time he came near us. When we ordered, he told us our food would be ready in 15 minutes. Then, he stopped back by and told us the ETA was about 7 minutes. That Beefcake was just really strange. Yet another story that you might have needed to witness to appreciate.

I got some of those blocks from Bed, Bath & Beyond to raise a bed. Why shouldn't we have them and shove more stuff under our bed? Duh! It's a no-brainer to me. We could even store our bikes or Christmas tree under there now! As I was assisting him, (he had no desire to participate in this little chore) I sang my interpretation of Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up" and the husband got a little annoyed. Eventually, he just let me sing and we got the bed raised. He's such a good little helper!

Friday, April 20, 2007

I can't sleep, so this may or may not make sense. Either way, I have hopes of it being entertaining.

So much stuff to tell, so little energy. Here's a start...

I went to Weight Watchers solo tonight, because the husband had to go out of town for the evening. I lost four pounds. Just as an experiment, I weighed myself this morning with wet hair, then took a poo and dried my hair, then weighed myself again. That had a 3 lb weight difference. I don't know if it was the hair or poo, but it was an interesting little scientific study I wanted to try. I've done it before, but without the wet hair part. Sometimes it's just easier to say to the husband, "Dang, that was a 2-pounder" instead of, "Dang, honey! Come look at this!" He doesn't EVER fall for that anymore. I get dreamy-eyed and reminisce now, and say in my head, "Oh, how fun young love was!"

More funny stories about the husband...
A couple of weeks ago, he swapped shifts with a guy at work, so we could fly to Missouri for our nephew's wedding. Yeah, I'm 27, but have a 24-year-old nephew getting married. It does sound weird. Anywho, the husband traded to have a Friday off (Good Friday) in exchange for the next Tuesday. Well, this guy did not discuss this swap with his wife prior to completing the paperwork to make it official. When he told his wife, she was pissed, because she was off work and planned on spending the day off with her husband. So, I was told by my husband that "we" should make cookies for this guy to thank him for facing the wrath of a pissed wife, just so we could attend the wedding. Ummmm... I've been that pissed wife before, and cookies don't really compensate for a stupid husband. So, I agreed that cookies could be made to give to this poor, pitiful guy. I gave the husband a deadline, so he would know when I might be in the mood to make the darn cookies. (Example: Maybe I'll make them Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday night. Yeah, Thursday night I'll make them) So, it was like Wednesday evening, and while talking to him on my way home from work, he said that he though we should definitely make the cookies that night. I was okay with that, but I felt sort of pressured, and also felt like the husband might have been pressured or something. Sort of like a child that gets their lunch or lunch money stolen at school. Like, he was told by his coworker, "Get me the stuff by Thursday morning, or else..." I could tell that the husband really NEEDED to give this guy some cookies, so I went along with it. I even got the Kitchen Aid mixer out for the job, so I doubled the recipe because well, we weren't on a diet at that time. I also wanted to officially welcome our new neighbors in my most Martha Stewart-like manner. I ended up with an abundance of yummy cookies, so I mentioned to the husband that I would send a bunch to work with him for all of his coworkers. He looked at me (very seriously) and said, "What would make this special for that guy if you make cookies for everyone?" I told him that I would give him a bowl to take home, but there would be a plate of cookies for everyone. The husband looked at me like I had a third nipple...on my forehead, and said he disagreed. So, I got the largest Gladware bowl I had, and sent a shitload of cookies to work with the husband to give to this man. Deep down, I had the idea in the back of my head that this man would realize he had no business taking ALL of these cookies home and eating them ALL by himself, so he'd give in and share them with their coworkers like my original plan. When I asked the husband how the cookie exchange went, he said that he accepted them, then took him to his car and left them. What? It totally fits into my idea that this man had threatened my husband or something. Was there a wedgie in store for my husband had I not delivered those cookies in a timely manner? Was he going to get shoved in a locker? He's so funny! I hope I got him out of a swirly or something by making the dang ol' cookies!

Gaybor update

So, the gaybors have sold their place and are moving out soon. They were invited to our American Idol party this Tuesday, but cancelled at the last minute, but said they *would* come over for the results show on Wednesday. (uhhh, okay) I confirmed that would be fine, and I received an email response from the man-wife saying that he would make brownies for the occasion. He's been wanting to try my cream cheese pinwheels for a while, so I thought that I would make them, but I didn't mention it to him, because I didn't really know if I would have time to make them. Well, I had mentioned to the husband that they would be coming over, but he forgets almost everything I tell him, especially if it involves gay men coming over. I asked him to pick up the ingredients for my pinwheels on his way home from work, so I could make them as soon as I got home. We even saved enough points to eat a brownie, so we wouldn't be rude to our guests and refuse gay food. I get home, light candles, etc. to make sure our home is completely gay-friendly and inviting. I make the pinwheels really quickly, and the husband eagerly helps with whatever he can. He doesn't even realize that we're having company during those moments while I'm scurrying around making sure everything is perfect. I finally feel that there's nothing more I can do to make our home any more inviting for a gay couple, and I look at the husband and say, "Are you really wearing that* tonight?"
*Flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt with a big smiley face on it that says, "BOOBIES MAKE ME SMILE" He looked at me like he just didn't understand me. I reminded him that the gaybors were supposed to come over and I didn't know if his plan was to scream "I'm a straight man" or what, but that t-shirt definitely did that! The shirt actually makes me smile, but I didn't know if it was appropriate for this occasion. So, it's 8:30, and I'm expecting them to arrive at any moment. Then, it's 9:00. The show is starting, but we have it paused. I love TiVo!
So, I'm a little perturbed that they're late. This is just not like a gay man to be late. So, I march over there to see if they're going to come over. The husband-type answers the door and says that he'll ask the "wife" if he wants to, but they were just settling in to watch it in their living room. What? So, I politely said that they were more than welcome to come over and watch it with us if they wanted to. I knew we wouldn't see them, and it really hurt my feelings! I thought that gay men were better than that for some reason. Why would you practically invite yourself to someone's house, then not show up with the brownies their dieting bodies were longing for? I didn't get an email from them or anything. Hello? Do I need to review the emails where we discussed this little get-together? UGH! So, I have a bunch of these pinwheels that just aren't very point-friendly with our WW diet. Things worked out perfectly, because I made those for our Thanksgiving dinner at work, and my friend had some leftover pinwheels in a cup in the fridge with her name on it, and they vanished. We have an office nastyass that eats anything and everything in sight (labeled or not). So, I took them to the two girls in my office alliance, and they were really excited about the gaybors standing us up, and providing them with a tasty treat.

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Monday, April 16, 2007

My monthly recap

I guess we'll start with today. I'm battling a case of explosive runs, and the runs are definitely winning. I can't complain too much, since this Thursday will be Week 1 Weigh-in at Weight Watchers attempt #2. Steve (the husband) is doing it with me this time, so there's no logical reason to quit this time. He gets a lot of points because he's a man and because he has an active job. The new way to calculate points is a little different than the old way. I can already tell I've lost weight, so that's good. I don't even think it's the ragin' rhea, either. We are spending our bonus points tomorrow night when we have an American Idol party with some friends and neighbors. I'm looking forward to country music night on Idol more than the 35 freebie points. If tomorrow night is anything like tonight, I'll just shit out those bonus points, so maybe I'll just spend all 35 points on cheese.

On a lighter note, I had to take little Jackson to the vet for the first time since moving to the beach. He was due for his yearly check-up, and Steve was working, so I had to take him by myself. Last year, his carrier was way too small for him, so we opted for the collar/leash restraint system. It worked okay because we were both there to keep an eye on him. I had to go to PetSmart to get him a new crate, because I wasn't going to brave the cat on a leash alone. I got the soft-sided type by Blitz (Holla - made in Miami, Oklahoma!) Convincing him to get in the carrier wasn't so bad. He was really good about it. He's a really easy-going guy!
So, I get him in the vet's office. I had faxed over his medical records and his new patient form earlier, so we got to go right into the exam room. Sweet! Sometimes, it really pays off to be organized! It's not an extra mile I'd go for my own healthcare, but I'd volunteer my organs for that darn cat. He doesn't like to be away from home, but I open his crate and he starts walking around. He found a little space under the sink to hide out. The nurse comes in and Jackson jumps out to greet her. Her first comment was, "You're bigger than my dog!" She picks him up and loves on him. Then, she said that she would be right back with him. I had tears well up in my eyes, because I thought he would be scared. I wasn't quite sure where she was taking him. Our old vet would do everything right there in front of us, so I didn't know what to expect. Apparently, it was just a trip to the scale and to get a fecal sample and to take his temperature. I'm sure his temperature was taken in a manner that violated him, but I didn't ask. Steve said that they probably squeezed him really hard to get the poo sample. Then, Dr. McCutie came in. He picked Jackson up and said he loved big cats. I should have asked him if he liked his women like his cats (big), but I just couldn't. Maybe next year. Or the next. HEE HEE! The doctor did tell me his weight, though. 21 lbs! He's always been a big cat. He was 19 lbs. a year ago. We did live in a house with a big back yard where he could roam, so he got a lot of exercise back then. In one year, he's gained 2 pounds, which I don't think is a big deal. Dr. McCutie said that Jackson had the bone structure of a really big cat, but he'd like him to be closer to 19 lbs again. He said he wasn't concerned, but maybe we could cut back on his food by 1/4 cup each day, and maybe he would drop those 2 lbs. So, the whole dang household is dieting now. He was such a good little trooper and I've just written a really long post about my cat, which makes me a little like a creepy cat lady, but I'm not. I'm just a proud parent right now. He's such a good little guy, and so low maintenance!

Now I'm tired and I can't type anymore. I will post more soon.

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