Last weekend, anaerobes & back to school August 30, 2007

So last weekend was spent with Harold’s Grandma & Dad in Pennsylvania and involved much less sitting than I’d originally anticipated [thanks Harold Sr.!].  We had a really nice visit, even if we did stay at a Holiday Inn [I know! but it was really ok you guys!]  We usually stay at Marriott hotels when we travel [you know, for the Rewards] and they do have a Fairfield Inn in Uniontown.  It even offers 10% off for people visiting folks that live in his Grandma’s senior building [that's right, membership has it's priveledges].  But what happened was, Harold was on me to reserve! reserve! reserve! for like weeks because I don’t know if you know this of him or not but Harold really likes to take trips y’all – the planning, the anticipating, the driving even.  He’s dorky like that [hi honey!]  Anyway,  so I wasn’t feeling well & I was all tired & my head was foggy & I didn’t have the same sense of urgency that he did, so I was all, “What’s the rush?  It’s Uniontown.”  So we wound up at the Holiday Inn.  Shows what I know.

It was a nice one though.  Indoor holidome thingy, pool, game room restaurant, fitness center, etc.  When we checked in the guy handed us a gift bag of goodies because, he said, we were “Priority Members” [???] so I look a little confused, but wanted the chips sticking out the top of the bag[!] so quickly begin poking Harold in the leg like, “Don’t give us away!”  So we get our room card & turn to walk away & I’m all smirky & fast-walking thinking that we just SCORED & hoping that we’ll be out of the lobby before he notices THAT mistake & I say something under my breath to Harold about it & he was like, “Oh, yeah, I filled out something online when I made the reservation … it was free, soooo …”  Jeesh Holiday Inn, at least you should make people work for priority status.  Stay there often.  Pay in advance.  Something.  So we weren’t being sneaky or special.  But we did get chips.

We had a lovely visit with Harold’s wonderful Grandma, whom I reverently admire & Harold’s dad, Harold Sr. aka Grandpa.  We spent Saturday visiting Pennsylvania State Park, playing in the creek, then on to Fort Necessity [which you should know, was where Washington & his men posted-up & fought the first military engagement of the French & Indian war.  I learned that.] &  then shared a good lunch at a good home-cookin’ restaurant.  Good times.

Anyway, I’m out of time, it’s time to go home.  We didn’t get to touch on anaerobes so I will quickly say, I don’t know if I still have them exactly, but I am certainly in no way well yet.  I have a disgusting cough that is wracking my body with fits that resemble convulsions, but are also giving me firm abs.  So my feelings about it are mixed.

Oh, & back to school.  That was in the title too, right?  Well.  It’s just that.  The kids are back to school as of Wednesday & we’ve already missed the bus.  [hey, it's been 2 days]  So I hope that’s not all fore-shadowy of things to come for this year.  I need a system.  Note to self.  Work on a system.

Ok, I’m going home.  Have a good evening y’all! 

Argument for evolution August 28, 2007

Sign that Harold saw today.  In person.  In real life.  In our world.

This sign is intended for human beings y’all!

Ugh.  Anyway, I’m going to try to post an update tonight about our weekend, my anaerobes and back to school.  Ciao!

Technically CAN wait to get on the road again August 24, 2007

Well y’all, we’re off AGAIN. 

We’re heading to Uniontown, PA for the weekend to visit Harold’s Grandma Mary [Hi Grandma Mary!]  And while it’s not exactly “vacation”, or even very far away for that matter, I’m just ever-so-tired of driving places.  Because see, I’m not a good passenger.  I occasionally tend to freak-the-heck out.  Without going into too much detail, because reliving such experiences make me want to die, I have a tendancy to panic if, say, we’re next to one of those cementy construction walls or if we’re next to an 18-wheeler [18 wheels y'all!!!] … ooh, or then there’s the sandwiched between the wall & the truck scenario.  Dear God I may faint.  My vision may tunnel, my ears might start ringing, I may lose feeling in my arms.   Then there’s the loud, flailing !!!GASP!!!  Harold appreciates that one best of all.  Anyway, Grandma Mary is expecting us, so what’r ya gonna do?  Right?

We’ll likely do a lot of card playing and also some sitting.  I’ll take some DVD’s to watch on the way up, but probably not, “Brokeback Mountain”, which is, at this very moment, my favorite romance movie.  Yes, yes, I know what you’re saying, “man-on-man cowboy love?”  And surprisingly I must say, “Yes, I know”, and then leave it at that, because I have no defense.  Nope.  None.

“I wish I knew how to quit you.”  Ah, heartwarming.

Watch in amazement as I awkwardly change the subject.  Ready. Set.  Go.

So yup, we’re heading out again.  In the van.  All of us.  Piled in the van.  [Sounds tempting, I know].  Oh, and also with 2 new John[!] cd’s.  So there’s something to look forward to. 

Anyway, I’ll talk to you on Sunday, with many an enthralling story I’m sure.  Have a great weekend.  Stay cool.

Reason #1 not to leave your computer unattended August 21, 2007

I sat down at the computer the other day to update my blog and, I’m not even sure what I was going to write about now, but I managed to get this much down before stopping to do something else,

“A lot of people might wish that their man would …”

Hmmm, I wonder where I was going with that?  Well, apparently Harold thought he sensed the direction that I was heading & thought he might help me out - because when I came back to finish my post, he was at the computer typing.  On my blog!  [Oh, no he di'nt!]  This is as far as he got before I stopped him,

“I can remember when … one day long ago … across a Pier One parking lot … I saw the most absolutely handsome body builder thatI have ever seen.  I knew that I was out of his league.  I was but a naive mother of one, with interests in cross-stitch and scrapbooking.  This perfect male specimen was surely sought after by the entire female population of the Earth … which I later learned actually was true, but that is fodder for another blog.  Finally, after much prayer, soul-searching and advice from my mother, I finally gathered the strength to speak to him.  I was able to only say, ” My name is Layni.  What is your name and how did you get such sculpted abs? ” He told me that his name was Harold, and that his abs came from over two seasons fighting in the Octagon.  Be still my heart!  His name was Harold !!  Surely, Harold was the name of an ancient ruler, or maybe the Greek god of  muscles … but whatever the …”

I’m fairly sure that wasn’t exactly where I was going with it.  But if it helps him sleep at night …

Instant Karma’s Gonna Get You August 17, 2007

Hey there you guys!  I know we’ve been having fun the past day or so, but I think we should now move on from the excitement of Hatemail [not to take anything away from Hatemail, because it was certainly not without its entertainment value - hi Maria], but now we need to move on.  We now need to discuss why it’s never a good idea to be overly confident in one’s abilities.  Here’s why …

See, yesterday morning I was discussing embarrassing moments with a co-worker [hi Derek].  Of which, honestly, I have had very few of.  Now, that’s not to say that on more than one occasion that I shouldn’t have been embarrassed.  A person of lesser conscience would likely have been in certain situations.  Me, not so much.  And as such, I boasted to said co-worker about this.  About the fact that I’m not easily embarrassed.  I probably shouldn’t have. 

Most of these instances have involved my falling down for one reason or another.  I’m good for that.  But occasionally it can be on account of my inability to filter.  Meaning I have NO FILTER.  Such an incident might include telling a certain portly cavern guide person that she should maybe weigh significantly less than she appears to, due to the amount of times she has ascended a large number of stairs on a daily basis [see: Back to Life.  Back to Reality].  Then there are times like yesterday.

I eat lunch each day in the cafeteria with the same group of friends.  Friends that know me & yet at certain times are nonetheless surprised by my actions.  You might can imagine.  Yesterday was no exception.

So I’m sitting in our booth, eating my 7 point Lean Cuisine [which, isn't it nice how Lean Cuisine does that now?  List the WW points.  Really very nice] when out of the corner of my eye I spot something in the aisle.  By my foot.  Moving.  Well, of course I exercised the utmost in tact & delicacy but YOU GUYS, IT WAS A ROACH.  So it turns out, to the surprise of exactly nobody, it turns out I suck at tact & delicacy.  I have … kind of a thing with bugs.  As do most people, I hate bugs.  But we reach new levels of pathological phobia when it comes to bugs crawling towards my foot.  I am immediately transformed into the biggest scaredycat ever.  I have a very fight-or-flight response to bugs near my person and as soon as one comes near me, I start looking for the nearest exit.  I am ready to run.  I will bite, if necessary.  I am scared straight to death.

So I did what any rational person would do in my situation.  I screamed, jumped to my feet [on the booth seat] & started buttcrawling backwards onto other booth seat.  Which, incidentally, were occupied at the time.  I’m all, “AHHH GET OUT GET OUT THERE IS A ROACH OH MY GOD, WHY IS NOONE MOVING?”  People, noone moved!  They just sat there, in the cafeteria, where a 4″ roach was strolling around, as though they are completely accustomed to this sort of thing!  So listen, I don’t know about y’all, but when I see a roach [that I'm pretty sure was wearing tennis shoes] marching towards me — I apparently tend to OVERREACT.

Well, there was a certain Asian woman sitting in one of the booths who it seems I may have just accosted in my flight of fear and also may have offended with my scaredycatness, that looked at the person that she was dining with and goes, “It’s just a roach.”  This is what she said.  Then she got up, sashayed towards the roach

and

then

she

… STOMPED IT!

This is also when my brain exploded.

Now y’all.  Yes.  Yes!  I am the biggest wimp of all time when it comes to bugs, but this completely messed with me all afternoon.  A ginormous, radiation-eating insect breaches the sanctity of our dining area – where you EAT – FOOD – and no one’s shaken by this but me?  Well, WHATEVER!  You guys are all very troubled.

So, while I was not exactly embarrassed by my reaction – I can’t help but think that if I hadn’t been so arrogant about how I could easily, without even blushing, fall down flat on my face on a public street or down a flight of stairs in front of literally ten’s of people – that if I hadn’t been so confident about my ability to maintain my dignity in most situations, that the roach might not have singled me out to terrorize.  That’s all I’m saying.  Karma.

Sadly, she’s gone. She’ll be missed. August 17, 2007

Take this funny quiz here that tells you what your obituary will say. 

Let me know how you’re gonna go.

Just a little distraction while I’m working.  I have a more riveting post ready to go when I get home – so check back tonight.  Ok, back to work.

I’M SOMEBODY! August 15, 2007

It happened!  I got my first … hatemail.  I mean, it’s not as bad as some I’ve seen others receive, but it was definitely a random, unsolicited snide comment, so it definitely counts you guys!  I kinda figured that the more I posted, that eventually someone would disagree with or take issue with something that I had to say.  Well, it happened today and I have to tell y’all, I’m actually pretty excited about it.  Here, take a look:

Maria writes: 

“Webkinz are overrated. “

[Noted.  Will work harder to find merely adequate rated toys.]

“Wow, your sentences are so long by the time I reach a period I’ve forgotten what the sentence was trying to convey. “

[Maria, it is kind of lame that I make choices to write in my personal style.  On my personal blog.  You have a point there.] 

“living in the moment? You mean you aren’t constantly cleaning…?You mean mothers actually can sit down…?”

[Sure, I think they can.  At least long enough to send condescending emails to strangers.]

So thank you for your inspiring words Maria.   I’m glad to see that you’re not perpetuating the inaccurate notion that women are the most judgmental people on earth.  Because you’re definitely not.

Togetherness August 14, 2007

When your children have free time between school, sports, camps & social engagements and you are helpless to do much of anything but go along with their childish whims, you learn things.  If you’re lucky, you learn that when you adopt a positive attitude, putting aside your wants, desires & what needs to be done & live entirely in the moment, your child can be … fun.
You’ll realize, quickly, that most of your annoyance (which is likely just your own pent up hostilities, because let’s face it, you have issues) stems not from your children’s actions per se but that their actions generally run exactly parallel to whatever you need them to do.  The timeline of a kid is not harmonized in the slightest with the timeline of reality.  For instance, you could say to your child, “Time to get your bath!” and said child will reply, “Yes, but first I have to do [blah]“- blah being “put my Littlest Pets to bed” or “tell you a long-drawn-out story about the dream I had last night — that, by the way — was waaay crazier than any dream you’ve ever dreamt, Mommy” or “finish this episode of Spongebob that I could plausibly quote to you verbatim.” or “show you the dance I just learned AND additionally, I’d like to demonstrate for you how every other girl on the team does it – individually.”  I’m pretty sure that there is a direct correlation between the request and the expediting of said request that directly affects the annoyance of the parent.  Actually, yeah, I’m sure.
But when you have no agenda, no where to go, and nothing in particular to do that can’t wait until another time you’ll see that their action-packed brain is not without its entertainment value people. You can, say, spend an hour on the computer shopping for furniture & clothing for Webkinz [because dogs need flip-flops & big screen TV's] and play a round of HORSE basketball [can be abbreviated to PIG if it's over 90 degrees outside].  You can sit on your daughter’s bed & listen to her new favorite band - even if you argue that the lead singer has a mullet – which will spark additional equally important conversation that some day you’ll both look back fondly on & share additional moments laughing about together – because she defended the mullet.  You can find the hidden pictures at Highlights.com, whose difficulty is grossly understated and dancing wildly & exaggeratedly around the living room to John Mayer is not out of the question either.  This, my friends, is living.
Of course, you can do all this knowing that they’ll be back at school in just a few short weeks.  This helps too.

Wherein I probably shouldn’t have been driving August 11, 2007

So I started on an antibiotic yesterday for my “bacterial infection”, which I think translates roughly to an upper respiritory infection.  Possibly a sinus infection.  Maybe both.  What I’m not sure of is, can an antibiotic make you crazy?  I mean, not crazy like wear my underwear as a shrug kind of crazy, more forgetful, foggy & out-of-it, sort of crazy?  Because I’m here to say that I think it can.  It could also have a little to do with the fact that a friend came over after midnight last night and we watched Disturbia [good flick, btw] and I didn’t get to bed until after 3 and we were supposed to be up by 7:30 this a.m. to get Ashton to dance camp by 8:45.  This did not happen.  What happened was, I woke up at 8:20 & jumped out of the bed all, “Omigosh!  She has to be there at 8:45!” yet, for reasons that are still unclear to me, proceeded to parade around the room in my underwear [Now how is that possible that underwear have been mentioned twice -- well, actually 3 times -- in one paragraph?  Strange.] — killing a wasp that had managed to get in, checking the setting on the A/C, looking for something slightly cleaner than what I had on to wear, when Harold goes, “You mean 8:45 as in like 12 minutes from now 8:45?”  That’d be the one.

I threw on some clothes, charged down the stairs, yanked Ashton out of her bed & stated with some semblance of authority, “You have to be there in 12 minutes!!!”

So 10 minutes later we’re driving down the road [oh, we're good!] and she’s telling me about a varsity soccer game that she wants to go to tonight & apparently, somewhere between, “It’s not a date” and “We’re just friends”, I checked out of conscious thinking and from this point, the conversation went a little something like this;

“Mommy, [insert said boy's name here] wants to know if I can go to the varsity soccer game tonight?”

“Nope.”

“It’s at the middle school.”

“Ok.”  [continue driving ... towards the high school]

“Well can you turn around right here then — because the dance camp is at the middle school.” [Braking & whipping the car around in a parking lot]

“OH!  I thought you meant that the game was at the Middle School so I was all, ‘Um, ok — what does it matter?  You’re not going anyway.’”

“No, I meant that the camp was at the middle school.”

“Gotcha, well this is even better, now you won’t be late cause that’s even closer.”  [pulling up in front of the building]

“Mommy!  This is the Intermediate building!”

“Omigosh!  What in the world is wrong with me?  Maybe it’s my medication.  I’m half awake.  My heads fuzzy.  Ugh.  Well, if I cut through this parking lot by the stadium we’ll be there in no time.”  [Pulling out on red to make a right-hand turn]

“Mommy!!!  It’s straight, STRAIGHT!  Right is the 9th grade building!  It’s at the MIDDLE SCHOOL!  Gaw! — now that we’ve passed every school in the district!”

“Did I mention that my ear tube-y things hurt too?”  [finally pulling up to the Middle School]

“Now are you going to be able to get home ok?  Should I call Harold to talk you through it?” 

“Ummm, maybe.”

[I'm going to bed now.]

What? Oh, hello. August 10, 2007

I don’t know.  I just woke up with this swollen neck-node, a sore, stuffy nose & a crappy headache.  I’ve also decided that I’m going to start each blog post in the middle of a conversation.  I hope you don’t mind.  So just imagine that we’ve been chatting for a bit and you finally ask, “Is something wrong or are you mad at me?”  And then I say, “A really bad headache.” As opposed to a really good headache.  I guess the headache that tells you you’re alive is ok.  Like, you wake up in the hospital, filled with tubes, and your head is pounding, and you’re all, I can feel my head!  Oh happy day!   Just saying oh, happy day will make you feel good.  Come on, try it. It will make you happy! Oh, happy day!

Only, I’m not feeling it right now, on account of I have the kind of headache that screams you need coffee, friend, but I’ve now enjoyed far more coffee than a person should ever enjoy and my head still hurts. I don’t know, I don’t even know why I’m mentioning the headache.  It’s probably allergies.  Isn’t that always what it is?  Allergies?  Even if you’ve never had them before, folks are all, “I bet it’s allergies.”  Actually, I prefer to self-diagnose because my determinations are way more fatal & interesting than that;  Tumors.  Cancer.  Tuberculosis.  Aneurisms.  These are things I tend to lean toward. 

So my friends at work have been harassing encouraging me to go to the ‘dispensary’ for several weeks now.  Because of my ‘symptoms’; cloggy nose, watery eyes, hurt-y tubes behind my ears, etc.  “Just go to the dispensary”, they’d tell me.  Yeah, only I don’t exactly think the dispensary is prepared to deal with a person who is dying you guys.  Plus I wasn’t so sure that a place called ‘the dispensary’ was the place for me.  But I went anyway, this morning.

The office was kitschy [and by 'kitschy', I mean that our company hasn't upgraded their office furniture since the 60's] & it smelled like automotive parts [it was in the factory y'all!].  Like what you’d expect a doctor’s office to look like if they had doctor’s offices at BF Goodrich — except they didn’t examine me on a lift, thank God.  The medical staff, however, was very professional & helpful.  Turns out, I may have started with a virus, but now have a full-on bacterial infection.  The doctor was all, “Several weeks, huh?  Well, the first week of waiting was probably ok, but it turns out that the subsequent weeks may have been too long.”  Damn it.  The dispensary is actually pretty durn handy.  No co-pay, no time-off-job & they give you your prescription [free!] on the spot!  Thanks, Fortune Magazine’s “Most Admired Company”!  I admire you too.

Anyway, I’m well on my way to being on the mend.  Antibiotic in hand I head into my weekend determined to feel better.  Now if we can just get this Africa-hot heat under control, we’ll be in business.  I’m tired of living in the devil’s ass!

Enjoy your weekend y’all!  And finish all of your medication … even if you start to feel better.