Happy New Year

Eight years ago, Jeff and I celebrated our first New Year's with a bang. Some beer pong, some finger foods, and some shots. Typical college stuff. Eight years ago was the only New Year's we were awake to celebrate. Since then, the both of us have been sound asleep while the rest of the east coast rings in the new year. Usually, to be awakened by our parents who are out celebrating. I guess New Year's was more exciting for us when we were under age and weren't sure who we would be kissing when the ball dropped.

This year, we are starting small. We went out for a while, and are now hoping to bring in the new year awake! We have a little over an hour to keep our eyes open. Whether we make it or not is anyone's guess.

Happy 2010!

The Winter Wardrobe

I often complain about the winter and cold weather. I hate being cold, but if you ask me what my favorite season is, I may say winter. Crazy, right? Let me explain.

You can never be sure what the winter will bring, but each year you can be sure of one thing in the winter; basketball games will be played. A huge reason I love winter, is the basketball! In fact, going to college in the snow capital of New York, I didn't even have time to notice, as I was enthralled in basketball. God bless the game! 

There are other winter sports I enjoy as well. Since I was 10 years old, I have had an ongoing interest in skiing.  I have also recently found enjoyment in snowshoeing. There are definitely some fun things to do in the snow, as long as I can stay warm!

Now, I have just realized my reason for loving winter. I notice that in the winter, you can wear whatever you want, no matter how awful it looks, in order to stay warm and it is acceptable. I can walk up to people with a black mask covering my face and instead of them taking a step back, thinking I am going to hold them up, they hold the door that extra second for me.

The colder it gets, the more people seem to sympathize with each other. They want to help you get in out of the cold faster. I can approach someone, in single digit weather, wearing fake Ugg boots over sweatpants and I get a friendly smile. If it weren't cold out, I would get awkward stares, no doubt!

Nobody seems to think you look foolish in the winter when you wear whatever you need to in order to stay warm. Well, maybe not nobody. Can you guess who thinks I look foolish? You got it, Jeff!

Warm-Up Players

I can walk into a gym and pick out the best players fairly quickly. All it takes is a peek at warm-ups. Actually, I'd take a bet that I could pick out the best players if they were just standing in a line in front of me. Good basketball players just have a look.

Sitting through warm-ups of tonights game I not only picked out the best players, but I picked out the players that basically the coach felt bad cutting. Every team has one or two of them. The ones that work hard and are good guys, but will never see a minute of action. Tonight there were two of these guys on the opposing team. I named them Arsenio Hall and the Commish.

I'll start with the Commish. I was sure this was a guy they let warm-up with them, who maybe, possibly, wasn't even on the team. Just a kind gesture. An lengthy 5'9'', a thin 240, and a head more sparkly than Mr. Clean. Literally, the spitting image of Tony Scali.

Then there was Arsenio. No doubt Arsenio had some athletic ability. But, probably nothing further than an average player in pick-up ball. He was straight from the 80 from his 1984 throw back Nike Flights, to his flat top with the lines shaved into the sides. Maybe Arsenio would see some playing time, but I projected him to get out there, try to be too fancy with it, and get pulled right back out again.

My predictions, for both of these the Commish and Arsenio were slightly off. When I say slightly, I mean more than one could have ever imagined! As if the coach could read my mind, both players were out on the court for the opening tip. Okay, maybe the game plan is to come out with a stink-ass team and make the opponent think they are in for an easy ride, then sub in your real players. I've never seen it done before, but there has to be a first for everything!

The game went on, and so did their playing time. In fact, they were both quite talented. Arsenio was ridiculous. That apparent athletic ability I was talking about, led to one of the most impressive dunks I've ever seen. The crowd rightfully went nuts to what oddly enough sounded to me like "whoop, whoop, whoop."

The Commish was tough and scrappy; like a bulldozer really. Although not at the same level as Arsenio, the Commish proved himself worthy of being on the court and certainly benefited his team.

The two of them put on an impressive show. They did lose, so really, not all that impressive. Just much better than I was expecting. I guess I will have to rethink my talent classification abilities!

The Three of Us

I enjoy waking up in the morning with my husband next to me and my dog at my feet. I feel like our family is complete again, even if it is for a short time. While I don't want my time here in Cleveland to pass too quickly, I am looking forward to waking up! 

I'm The Big Loser

The first thing I do each morning when I wake up is check my phone. Not to see what calls I missed, nobody is calling me in the middle of night. I do it to check the weather. I started last winter in order to know how many layers I need to put on while taking Shea out for our routine morning run.

Unlike the past year, this year I always check the temperature where I am and where Jeff is. Almost like it is a competition. For me, a person who likes warmth, the higher temperature would be considered the winner. Quite frankly, I am getting my ass kicked! On average, Cleveland has been 15 degrees warmer and never once, not once, has the temperature in Cleveland been below that in Schenectady. I'm not exactly sure why I check the temperature in the morning, it just makes me angry on so many levels.

Needless to say, with higher temperatures here in Cleveland, I was looking for what would seem, in comparison to home, like a trip to the tropics. I was pleased to find Cleveland sunny and snow free! Forty degrees at the end of December is a nice feeling. A feeling that made me take Shea on extra long runs and not mind the walk from the car to whatever store we were going into. I wouldn't even mind pumping gas! I was eating up this weather for all it was worth.

Today, however, the weather, mother nature if you will, must have realized that I had come to Cleveland. The beautiful, sunshiny greenery of Cleveland I was so enjoying quickly turned white.

For the first time when checking the temperatures on my phone, Schenectady's temperature was significantly higher than Cleveland's. Go figure! As I blamed the weather for this snowfall, Jeff was quick to blame me. In this whole warm weather competition, I certainly am a loser!

Big Spending

Today I felt like Jessica Simpson. I shopped upscale. Not Louie Vuitton and not in LA, but upscale none the less.

This is big for me as I am as frugal as they come. So, while this shopping trip began to take care of some returns and exchanges, it quickly took a turn for the worse. Well, for anybody else in the world, it was for the better. Me, it was near cardiac arrest at the ripe old age of 26.

First we stopped at the beautiful Beachwood Place Mall. Jeff and I did a quick comparision of this mall compared to the mall in the town I grew up in. Let's see. Beachwood is filled with top shelf stores such as Coach, Nine West, Nordstorm, Saks Fifth Avenue, and in all sincerity, many, many more. The mall back in Rah-Rah boasts a K-Mart, a TJ Max, and a Sears to name a few. When I was in high school I used to go to this mall and count the white trash with my friends. At Beachwood, I was the white trash!

From here we headed to the North Face store. If you spend anytime outside in the northern states, and by anytime I mean if you need to walk from your house to the car, the car to work, etc, North Face is considered the savior of mankind. Nothing is warmer, nothing is more fashionable, and nothing is more expensive. And, of course, we both left with a bag full of somewhat (not completely) unnecessary stuff.

Our last meaningful stop was at another upscale shopping area, Legacy Village. Just the name sets it apart from your typical Target, Kohls, and Petsmart shopping plaza. Beautiful buildings, brick paved walkways, snooty eateries, and pricey shops line this fantasy village. We stopped at a few of our favorite places: the Apple Store, Crate and Barrel, and Bose. You better believe we were not leaving this place empty handed. A swipe of the credit card at Bose gave us some great musical accessories, and me, weak kneed.

I said Legacy Village was our last meaningful stop. I'm not trying to down play eating or anything, but we did need to pick up some groceries. Not a big deal. I understand the need for it. However, since Jeff has not really gone grocery shopping since I was last in Cleveland (October 30th - November 1st), this trip to the grocery store needed to be extensive. I mean, at Jeff's place, if you wanted something to eat, you had two options: 1) squirting mustard directly into your mouth because there was not a thing to put it on, or 2) a bag of minute rice. So, the simple idea of going grocery shopping turned into filling a completely empty kitchen. At least this 3 digit purchase seemed the most immediately useful!

Apparently, I survived this spending spree as I am sitting here writing this. I can't help but wonder what will be on the agenda for tomorrow! I will be sure to bring the Beyer Asprin.

Christmas in a Car

Merry Christmas!

In the spirit of the holiday, Jeff and I decided we needed to see all sides of the family today. We were sure to take time out of our seven hour drive back to Cleveland, to stop and see his parents, siblings, and grandparents on this special day. Really, it would be rather ridiculous if Jeff was here in New York and didn't see his family. What made it more wonderful is that his family didn't know he was here. In fact, they believed that I had left him by himself to celebrate alone in Cleveland. Needless to say, I was on their s*#& list!

Joyful hysteria broke out as Jeff's family discovered he was right there to celebrate Christmas with them. Okay, so not quite to celebrate, but basically to eat some delicious homemade lasagna and run. Delicious it was, and run we did. Not because we didn't love our company, but because we still had five hours to drive and an impending rain/sleet storm. Luckily for us the rain/sleet was minimal rain that spread a distance of about 150 miles. Not too bad considering we drove about 450.

Arriving in Cleveland was a relief. A big weight lifted off of my shoulders. I wasn't nervous about the drive; it's just nice to be together, Jeff, Shea, and I. Although most of our Christmas was spent in a car, we were together. I wouldn't want it any other way!

Cougars on Christmas

I won't say that nothing is more fun than Christmas Eve, but I must say that there is nothing more interesting. This year, to top off the ridiculousness of my family, Shea has been added to the mix.

The party always starts when my grandmother walks in. To her surprise, she was greeted by a barking 75-pound dog. One extreme meets the other. Grandma is a talker. She talks about anything and everything you can imagine, but mostly things you would never expect to hear out of an 89 year old's mouth. Anything is up for conversation, from reincarnation to vampires to sex. Shea is not a talker. He is more of a scavenger looking for a free meal. Some (my grandmother) may call him an animal!

He was on his best behavior, but he clearly sensed weakness in my grandmother. He knew if he was to get some of the delicious Christmas Eve dinner, he would have to sneak up on her side. He could tell her reflexes were slower than the average person. When he got tired of being good, he made his move. He sprang up onto the table, grabbed a slab of turkey, and wolfed it down.

This threw Grandma into a frenzy, amazed by Shea's pure animalness. One can never trust an animal. As conversations can turn in a moment with Grandma, this immediately took a turn for the worse. Not only are dogs animals you can't trust, but so are coyotes, wolves, and bears. She warned my cousin, who lives in Los Angeles, to stay away from the coyotes. Lord knows they are roaming around Rodeo Drive mingling with Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan.

As Grandma is getting opinions on which animals are worse: lions, tigers, or bears, my mother suddenly became a comedian. I'm not sure if it was the extra glass of wine in her or if she has hidden her sarcasm for all 26 years of my life, but my mother's response was, "the cougars!"

Of course, the population under 80 all found the extreme humor in this. The remainder of the crowd, Grandma, believed that in fact cougars were the most dangerous animal out there. So the warnings to watch out for cougars started flowing. As one may imagine, my grandmother does not know much about cougars so she had many questions. Where do they live? What attracts them? This led to more inappropriate comments than an episode of The Family Guy.

Anyways, I am going to enjoy the rest of the show and maybe play some Wii. Merry Christmas to my millions upon millions of readers out there!

A Big Surprise

I knew today would go fast. Usually the days before I get to see Jeff drag by just to spite me. But today flew by as we celebrated the upcoming holiday all day long at school.

Toting bags of goodies out to my car at 3:30, I got a call from Jeff's best friend who lives locally. He was on his way home and wanted me to pick up the Christmas gift he had gotten for Jeff and I. I agreed to meet him at his house for a quick visit and to pick up the gift before I left for Cleveland early tomorrow morning.

I was sitting in the living room chatting away with Mike. The next thing I knew, I looked up and standing there in the doorway was my beloved husband. My Cleveland-dwelling husband was right there in front of me! There, in the same room. I didn't quite know what to do or how to react. I just smiled and slipped into his arms without a word. What words were there? I found myself squeezing his arms, his back, his shoulders, his hands, as if to make sure he was really there and I was not dreaming. Still, words escaped me. But, I think the speechlessness spoke for itself. He knew how I was feeling.

Apparently this little scheme was months in planning. I had a little inkling that maybe Jeff would do something like this. He is awfully good at surprises and he knows how to make holidays meaningful. All of my suspicions were halted when I received an imagine this morning.

Why on earth would Jeff be decorating like this if he was coming here to surprise me? He is all ready for a Christmas in Cleveland, so I better be too. I don't mind. I was really beginning to look forward to spending the holiday alone, just the two, well three with Shea, of us.

Jeff later admitted that he sent this picture to do exactly what it had done: squash all hopes of him coming to me. I told you he was good at surprising. Since Jeff gave me the best Christmas present I could ask for, him, I gave him just a small part of his gift tonight.

Get your mind out of the gutter! I really meant a gift. Besides this, seeing Shea was more a gift than anyone could ever imagine!

With Jeff by my side, my life may be normal for the next week. Merry Christmas to that!

Are You Smarter....

Last week I received an email that our school had been chosen to provide 5th grade students to appear on Jeff Foxworthy's show, "Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader." They would make guest cameos to ask bonus viewer questions right before the commercial breaks. Obviously this was extremely exciting news!

I couldn't wait to tell my students the news. With my excitement level at top notch, I could only imagine the in elation when I told them. A little wired from the approaching holiday, I captured their attention when I told them I had big news. I implied that the news was something they would really want to hear. I thought that would be all they needed to calm down. When, in fact, it enticed them to make fun of me. I was bombarded with sarcasm, "Yea, sure! I'm sure you have really exciting news!" I guess this was a taste of my own sarcastic medicine. It would only strengthen the shock of the major news!

When I told those sarcastic little weasels, they went nuts! A wave of insanity made it's way through the classroom as the kids pictured themselves as TV stars. Then, I had to break the news. The only problem in this 5th grade fairy tale. Only four kids from the class could be chosen to do it.  We talked about how we had to be supportive of one another, no matter who was chosen. And, in our fair, democratic classroom, I did what any fair, democratic teacher would do. I drew names out of an elf hat!

The kids were incredibly supportive; cheering and congratulating the four chosen. The kids were given a script this past Friday and were asked to memorize their questions. Today was the big day. The library was set up into a little television set, and the director was there waiting for the kids. There was some discussion among the kids if Jeff Foxworthy would be there, but they decided that he was probably at his home in Florida. How they decided he lives in Florida, I don't know.

Anyways, the big day went well for the kids. Out of my four kids to record, three of them got right in front of that camera and banged out their lines like pros. Maybe because I have the camera on them so often in the classroom (we make a lot of review-type videos).

Then, fully confident that my fourth would  undoubtedly go just as smoothly, she began to nervously wobble to the recording chair. Poor girl stumbled over the cord and pulled down one of the lighting stands. Nothing broken, just a minor setback. Now her nervousness turned into panic. Ten years old, lights shining in your face, with the anticipation of being on a nationally televised program. You really can't blame the kid! She slurred her words through her quivering voice.

As though I had all the power in the world, the girl looked at me with fleeting hope that I would save her from this misery. I smiled at her, held my hands up, and signaled for her to calm down. She didn't take her frightened eyes off me as she took a deep breath and mustered up a smile. Her next take, she nailed it down like an old pro! A proud moment for a teacher.

The filming turned out quite successful. The kids couldn't be happier and with that, I couldn't be happier either. I will be sure to DVR the show and save it forever! Hopefully Jeff will be able to see it too. He can see what a wonderful job I am doing shaping the minds of America's youth!

An Accident Waiting to Happen

I have always found the girl down the street who walks her dog in an orange, reflective vest to be ridiculous. I have to laugh at the man who walks with a flickering light. They look goofy. What ever happened to wearing light colors in the dark?

Seeing them almost everyday makes me hold my breath. I would feel horrible if I laughed out loud at them. So, I just pass by with humorous thoughts running through my mind. But, these past few days, I feel like the idiot, while these freak looking people may, in fact, be onto something.

For, yesterday an old man backed out of his driveway and nearly ran Shea and I over. I was wearing light grey colored sweats and Shea is white for God's sake! I thought we were pretty easy to see! Tonight I left for a run at about 4:30. With tomorrow being the shortest day of the year, I left myself very little daylight to run in. With my black jacket on, I turned into the idiot I thought the reflective vest wearers were. A few times I actually had to wave my hands in the air to be sure oncoming traffic could see me. Probably not the safest way to go.

With that, I would like to ask Santa for a reflective vest. Hear that Santa (Jeff)? I know it's late notice, but you are supposed to be magical, right?

The Guessing Game

A Christmas tradition Jeff and I have is to give each other a hint about 10 days before Christmas. A slightly revealing, but cleverly worded clue about what the big-ticket gift is. The deal was each of us gets one guess per day until Christmas. If the guess is correct, you have to tell the truth.

I broke that last rule on the very first day we played this little game. Me, lacking the cleverness gene, and Jeff, a brilliant mastermind in all walks of life, led to Jeff correctly guessing his gift on the very first try. My response; "No, absolutely not. That is a ridiculous guess! Wow, you suck at this game!" Do you think it was somewhat obvious he had gotten it right? I'm not sure, to this day, if he knew I was lying. But, I do know that I definitely did not guess his gift correctly.

As I think of the years since that first, I realize that the tradition we have, is really no tradition at all. Since that year, we have always spoken about doing this. However, we never did. So much for tradition!

The good news here is that we reintroducing this tradition into our holiday celebration. Jeff has gone techie with his clue and sent me a visual clue rather than a witty saying.

I was told all of those gifts were for me. I'm looking at the boxes and I absolutely nothing is popping into my head. I picture a tie and books in those packages, and those probably are not gifts that I am getting. So, with that, my guess is that in one of those packages there is a pair of sneakers. I love sneakers and it is a gift that will never disappoint. Other than that, I am lobbying for a clue in words, although I am getting nowhere with that!

My clue to Jeff is, "You can have a little bit of this or a little bit of that, no matter if you are here or there." Jeff took about fifteen minutes to think over what his guess would be to finally secede with no guess. Maybe by tomorrow he will at least take a stab at what it may be. I know that when he opens his gift, he will completely understand the clue and deem me a genius!

What Snowstorm?

All day long I have heard about this snowstorm ripping through the east coast. Record breaking snow falls. I was told to cancel my shopping trip today because the weather was going to be unreal. The worst storm we've seen since 1909.

As the end of the day nears, I have yet to see a snowflake. While it missed us, here in the frigid, snow-capital of the world (well, at least of my world), a lot of other places are in dismay over this storm. Me, I am okay with that. In fact, for those who live in North Carolina, Virginia, and Washington D.C., I think they deserve all of this snow. They are so quick to rub it in and brag whenever we get a storm here and they don't even need to wear coats outside. So, yes, they deserve it. I hope that snow sticks all winter long. I'm sure it won't but, for a day, I will take it!

 

Now, if only they would get some snow in Cleveland! I hate how it is warmer there than here. Jeff continues to rub it in sending me messages throughout the day comparing the temperature. Cleveland: 39, Schenectady: 9. Who knows, maybe they will have it coming for them soon too!

Retirement

Today was Jeff's mother's last day of work; ever. Her last day of work before retirement. Think about when you were a kid and having that thrill as you run out of school on the last day before summer. Imagine that, times a million!

It is so hard for me to comprehend retirement. Not just because I have an extremely long time before I am at that point in my life, but because when I envision retirees I see old, white haired, crotchety, hunched over people. My mother-in-law is nothing like that. Not in the least. She's baby-faced, energetic, and has not shrunk a bit since I have met her!

Jeff, being the sweet, loving, and caring son that he is, was on top of this whole retirement thing. He was sure to have a special gift sent to her for this life-altering occasion. Who wouldn't love a tray of gourmet chocolate covered brownies?

You thought I was being sarcastic when I said he sent her a lovely gift, didn't you? Well I wasn't! I really think he did a great job sending a thoughtful gift. If I have learned one thing over the years, it is not to underestimate Jeff's gift giving abilities. He is good! Creative and thoughtful.

It is the card writing he struggles with. Most of the time, he excludes a card completely. When he actually includes them, he has difficulty coming up with what to say. How can he express his deepest thoughts in writing? Being as he is in Cleveland and wasn't there to deliver these delicious brownies, he sent along a card. He tried his best to get his message across, as the card read,

"Congratulations on being old. Now, move somewhere far away."

And, he no doubtedly signed that card from Jeff and Alicia. Thanks, I am so glad to be included in that!

Gag Gift

A friend of mine went to a work party. They were to bring a grab bag, and this being her first year employed here, she was very unsure of what to get. Some veteran co-workers informed her that majority of the grab bags were gag gifts. Aiming to please, she went out and bought a gag gift and packaged it up in a beautiful red box. A red box that screamed, "pick me, pick me." 

Without thinking about who was going to be at the party, participating in the grab bag, my friend chose a somewhat embarrassing gag gift. The realization that, not only her boss, but the president of her place of employment was there hit her as they began to divvy out the grab bag gifts. She bowed her head in prayer that her boss and the president would not take her grab bag. To her delight, a young employee grabbed her gift and she was sure she was in the clear. Only, it was one of those grab bags games where you can steal a gift. 

She wanted to kick herself for wrapping her gift so attractively! If it looked bad, maybe nobody would want to steal it. Wouldn't you know, when it was the president's turn, he was blatantly attracted to that gift. He immediately made the trade for it. The big problem here, nobody, I mean nobody, is going to steal the president's gift. It was his for the taking and my friend, well, she was screwed! 

When the president opened that gift, he almost died as he pulled out the hemroid cream. He tossed it across the room and his face turned redder than red. Somehow, he knew exactly who had planted that gift and threw a smug smile her way. 

Probably the newest employee, she sure made her presence known at this holiday party. Personally, I don't think it's such a bad thing. Shows she has a little bit of a personality. Just don't show up at his office to give him foot fungus cream. Leave the gag at the holiday party!  

What To Get....

Think about my life. I have several Christmas gifts to give, and then some. Each year my list seems to expand. This year, I have one additional person; my uncle. I have never gotten my uncle a gift before. It has just never happened and was never expected. While it still may not be expected, I think the majority of human kind would agree, I owe him something!

Three months of housing me at no expense is worthy of everything and anything. He may argue that the company of Shea and I, and my wonderfully home cooked meals, are worth it. But, he is lying. I am not all that interesting, Shea sheds a lot, and my cooking, well, it ain't that great!

My dilemma is what the heck to get him. I'd like to stick cash in an envelope, but I know it won't go over well with him. With a stressful past year, I would like to get him something to help him relax. He has quit smoking cigars, so that is out. He has an endless supply of wine and that seems so cliche. That's out. So, my thought was maybe a nice, relaxing massage. Mind you, he is my father's brother. My father who will spend hours on pampering himself. My father, the self proclaimed metro-sexual.

Is this normal? Would the average man go get a massage? My father, yes he would. In fact, he does on a somewhat regular basis. I asked my father what he thought. Would his brother be comfortable going and getting man-handled, possibly by a man? He thought he would be okay with it, but suggested just an hour massage, not a full-day. Ha. What does a full-day entail? I have been to the spa for a full-day of pampering once (thanks Jeff!). On top of the massage, I received a manicure, a pedicure, a facial, and got my hair and make-up done. I may not be sure about the massage, but I'm pretty positive my uncle is not going to be comfortable with those things!

I left the conversation with my father still unsure about what to do. His other suggestion was to get him books for unlimited car washes. Talk about the two extremes. So, all you non metro-sexuals, what do you think? Is a massage a worthy gift for a semi-stressed man? Or are car washes more appropriate?

I just know Jeff wouldn't want another man rubbing on him!

Multi-Tasking Driver

Ask Jeff who the worst driver he knows is, and I have no doubt my name will make into his answer one way or another. If we are talking about the general population, not many can argue that women and Chinese people are the worst drivers. Well, I am a woman, and sometimes, especially when I get tired, I look somewhat Chinese. I guess I fit the mold!

Thinking about it, there is barely anything that I haven't done while driving a car. I have become a real multi-tasker. Driving for me, is never just driving. I always have my hand in something else. Of course there is the normal talking on the phone and texting. With my iPhone capabilities, I often browse the internet, exchange emails, and play games. I have read the newspaper while driving. I eat finger foods like grapes, crackers, and pretzels while I drive. I browse through my cds, even though I have no need to listen to any of them. I dance in my seat. I put the seat back and do sit-ups. I use the steering wheel and do push-ups. I have even completely changed my clothes while driving.

Only once did my extra curricular driving activities nearly gotten me in trouble. It was a while back, I was driving along the curvy roads up near my parents home. I had just gotten my haircut and was on my way to a party. I thought I liked my new haircut, but I wasn't quite used to it yet. So, what's a girl to do? Play around with it in the mirror of course! As I was experimenting with my hair, an unsuspecting curve was ahead. With my eyes in the mirror looking at my lovely self, I did not know that I should be moving the wheel, so I didn't. When I finally glanced up, I was in the wrong lane going head on with a State Trooper. Go figure! It couldn't have just been a normal citizen, it had to be a Trooper!

The Trooper immediately did a U-turn and I pulled off the road before he even had to turn his lights on. Before even asking me for my license and registration, he asked me what the heck I was doing. He guessed that I was changing cds. I explained to him, "I was fixing my hair." Believe it or not, he accepted this answer with a smile. He then asked for the paper work, and I decided to act like I had never been pulled over before. The more innocent, the better! I asked him what a registration looked like and he accepted it kindly.

The gentleman let me go, reminding me to keep my eyes on the road. I thanked him profusely and convinced myself that I would be careful while driving from that point on. I can honestly say, I drove carefully that night. Anything beyond that, I cannot attest to. Actually, I have begun doing all of the aforementioned things after this incident.

The amazing thing is that while Jeff thinks I am a horrible driver, I don't dare attempt any of these things while he is in the car with me. I think he made up his mind a long time ago, judging solely on the fact that I failed my first driver's test! And, let me tell you, that was not my fault!

Aliases

There will always be people to envy for one reason or another. A time when these feelings of envy seem to come out full force is around times of class reunions. People will do anything to try to impress their old classmates that play no significant role in their current lives. Why? I have no idea, but some people can go to the extreme.

Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion pops into my mind immediately. These two blonde-haired bimbos decided to pretend they invented post-it notes in hopes of being viewed as the most successful alumni. Of course, their lie was discovered in hysterical fashion.

But this was for entertainment purposes; fictional. Then, today, I read about this man, Steven Burton,  who has been pretending he is a celebrated war hero. However he had a few glitches in his story and his attire.
http://www.sphere.com/nation/article/military-impostors-are-neither-few-nor-proud/19280604?icid=main|main|dl1|link1|http%3A%2F%2Fwww.sphere.com%2Fnation%2Farticle%2Fmilitary-impostors-are-neither-few-nor-proud%2F19280604
This man who was so eager to impress people at his 20-year reunion, he wore some of the most prestigious military awards, when he was nothing but a lying civilian. Very classy, sir!

With that, I began to think of what I would want to portray myself as at a reunion. I mean, in reality, my 10-year reunion is right around the corner. Much like Steve Burton, I have about a year to come up with an elaborate, self-glorifying story. And of course, while making myself heroic, I also need to make Jeff equally impressive!

As if it were a Halloween party, I feel the need to go as a traveling veterinarian that saves the lives of unfortunate animals in third world countries. Sticking with basketball, and adding in some impressive medical background, my husband will be a traveling doctor for the Cleveland Caveliers. Some of his biggest accomplishments to date have been resetting Lebron James' dislocated shoulder so that he did not miss any of the season, and miraculously bringing Shaq's vision back after he was poked in the eye.

What do you think? I think it is a good thing that I have some time to work on our aliases!

And A Bottle of Wine

The kind, generous, appropriate thing to do when going to a get together is to bring something. Something, anything. It could be an appetizer, a dessert, or a bottle of wine. Whatever you please.

Since I didn't have much time and my cooking skills are average, at best, I decided wine was the way to go. First problem with that decision was, where the heck do I get wine? I am the biggest lush, a one and done if you may, and I do not drink wine at all. For the genetics responsible for my lushness, check this out: http://june-24th.blogspot.com/2009/11/lush.html.

I decided to bypass the grocery store and the convenience store at the gas station, which, yes, I was truly considering, for the liquor store. I don't know what it is like to buy wine, or even if you can, at the other places, but I imagine it is harder to find what you are looking for.

That was actually the second problem. In terms of what I was looking for, all I knew was I wanted a bottle of wine. Red wine, white wine, yellowish or pinkish wine. I have no idea! It's all the same to me; something I won't be drinking. I resorted to the signs above the racks and racks of wine. I wandered over to the Italian section holding my head high to give off the aura that I knew what I was doing.

All of this! How was I to choose? I began reading labels. Hmmm, Della Terra, Vinissimmo, Dolce Sarde, Vinico? They meant nothing. I picked out what I felt was the best looking label. That was the winner. It was a bottle of Chianti. I have heard of Chianti before, must be fine.

I brought my chosen bottle of Chianti up to the register and the man, of course, asked for my ID. He made some small talk, and eventually said, "So, you like Chianti, huh?" I answered by explaining I had no idea, I just needed a bottle of wine. He told me that Chianti was a very dry wine and that in fact, many people do not like Chianti. Awesome! Out of all the bottles in that entire liquor store, I had decided on a wine people don't like. Go figure!

The gentleman escorted me to a completely different section of the store and showed me some wines he thought were very popular for holiday parties. I asked him to pick one out for me and he conceded. I thanked him profusely for saving me, as he rang up and packaged my Merlot.

With great excitement, I handed the host my bottle of wine as I entered. I received thanks and then the bottle was put aside. Hours later, on my way out, I noticed my bottle of wine, still in that sheer red covering, unopened. Apparently nobody else had great excitement over my bottle of wine. Oh well, I tried. I probably would have been more successful if Jeff had been with me. He is not a big wine drinker, but I have a feeling he would know. He just knows everything!

Christmas Attire

Christmas parties galore tonight. Jeff and I, going to separate parties in separate states, were sure to go in style.

I dressed nicely in a playful and festive grey sweater.

Jeff made a stop at the Salvation Army a few days ago to ensure that he had appropriate attire. What he came out with is just too unbelievable for words.

Hot right? Please take note of the green turtle neck underneath the actual sweater. The sweater, in all of it's beauty, is a women's sweater. I can't help but wonder what my husband is turning into out there in Cleveland. Should I be worried?

Pooper Scoop

This is very hard for me to admit. Not necessarily because of embarrassment, as that would come all to often if I let it, but from the back slide of the puppy boy I so often compliment.

I visited the chiropractor, Dr. Jerry, last week. He is someone I have known for a while now, and he is a dog guy. Specifically, a lab guy. Every morning his 11-year old lab, Mitchell, accompanies him to work. At lunch time, he brings Mitch home to rest. Dr. Jerry, with complete sincerity, invited Shea to my recheck appointment this afternoon.

I cautiously entered, with Shea excitedly by my side. Was Dr. Jerry sure he wanted this? Shea really has been great lately, but this was risky! There was so much he could get into. But, Dr. Jerry welcomed Shea with open arms and showed him nothing but love!

As I lay in the chiropractic table getting adjusted, another patient of Dr.Jerry's arrived. He did not mind Shea in the least. Shea was very busy sniffing around, taking in all the smells of Mitchell. Then it happened. The guy in the waiting room declared, "I think he is pooping." No way Shea was pooping. He hasn't pooped inside since he was a ripe 2 month old puppy. He is a fast learner and potty training was the first thing he actually learned. The guy must be mistaken.

I laughed it off and told Dr. Jerry there was no way this was true. I had complete confidence in my guy. However, my confidence began to waver as I got a whiff of a terrible bathroom smell. With each second, the smell grew more potent. Oh my God! Shea freakin pooped in Dr. Jerry's waiting room. What was I going to do?

I immediately jumped up from the table, for Dr. Jerry to basically throw me back down. He was going to finish adjusting my back before we checked it out. To my relief, he was very calm about Shea's defecation. In fact, he flat out thought it was hilarious!

I was finally able to get up and clean Shea's mess. I apologized profusely to Dr. Jerry, his secretary, and the waiting patient, who all simply laughed at me, clearly finding the humor in all of it. Actually, Dr. Jerry had the exact cleaning supplies someone would need to pick up dog poop. I questioned him about this and he said that dogs have done much worse in his office. I am not quite sure what much worse could be, but I was sure to put forth my best effort in cleaning his gleaming hardwood floors.

Apparently Shea needs much more work than Jeff had even envisioned. I left with my jaw dropped, still in amazement that my dog had just done that. With hard work and strict training, I am hoping that pretty soon, I can whip Shea into exactly what we want him to be. Not just an obedient, well-behaved dog, but one who cleans up after himself!

Hey, you can never set your goals too high!

Tug of War

After hopping through the snow for an hour, Shea was not quite tired yet. The guy is fur ball of energy! So, I picked up an old shirt that we like to play tug of war with.

Shea is becoming a better dog everyday. He is certainly on his way to the greatness Jeff so desires. With that, a big rule in portraying dominance over a dog, is to never lose at a game of tug of war. I mean never! Jeff has reiterated this to me several times. I can only play if I win. So, I started up the game with every intention winning.

I swung Shea around, he thrashed his head violently. This is how the games usually go. I was close to winning the game a few minutes after it started when Shea lost his grip on the shirt. In a panic to reclaim part of the fabric, he accidently, yes, I know it was accidently, got a hold of my finger. It wasn't bad, just a little knick, but I could see that it began bleeding right away. In my head, I heard Jeff's voice saying, "you cannot lose!" That was all the motivation I needed. I kept tugging and pulling, knowing I could not lose.

The longer we played, the further the blood moved down my arm. I didn't care. I had a goal. I need to keep that position of dominance I have worked so hard to gain over Shea.

About eight minutes into our game, I decided I needed to end it. I didn't want blood to drip on the carpet. So, I began tugging my hardest. I put all of my weight into it, and Shea returned the favor, getting down low for more power. As I pulled in one direction and he in another, the shirt faltered. It ripped in half. Oh crap! Does that count as a win?

I ended up with the bigger piece of the shirt. In my book, that is a victory. However, I'm not sure what goes on in Shea's world. What do you think? Did I win? I guess I will find out tomorrow depending on whether he tries to hump me or not.

Snow Day

At 5:30 a.m. my phone rang. Mother Nature was in the middle of dumping a foot of snow on us and the roads were not good. We had a snow day!

A whole day, smack dab in the middle of the week, to do whatever I want. First and foremost I had to bring Shea out in the snow. Like a maniac, he ran back and forth, in circles, until he collapsed in the snow. He blends in pretty well with all the white.

After Shea was worn out, I decided to go to a local college and play basketball. I know groups of students and school employees alike gather to play noonball during their lunch hour. Noonball, yes, noonball. When I mentioned it to my mother, she replied, "Oh, what time is noonball at?" Really? What time do you think? I couldn't believe that was her response. I may be missing something though, as two other people I shared my plans with asked the same question. Either way, when I got there, this is what I found:

An empty field house. Maybe they changed the time of noonball.

While I was out and about, I decided to do a good deed and dig my grandmother's car out of the snow. To make it more interesting, I decided not to tell her that I was coming. I did't go in and see her, I didn't tell her that I was coming to do it at all.

Why is this interesting you ask? My grandmother lives in a retirement community. Being, well, my incredibly humble grandmother, when I secretly dig her car out, she immediately assumes it is some saggy old man that has a crush on her. She considers herself a hot commodity in the elderly world. She has the looks of a 75 year old, not an 88 year old. That goes a long way here! So, this has become a great way to find out who she is interested in. She gushed about how "Frank" dug her car out. She now feels the need to pay Frank back in some way. She turned to chocolates and even went as far as offering Frank money for his duties. Would this be considered prostitution in the senior citizen world? Maybe if I fessed up to digging the car out I could earn a few extra bucks. Ehhh, Lord knows that if she knew it was me the money would disappear faster than a Tiger Woods commercial.

The sky is still spewing junk on us. A combination of snow and sleet. Cleveland has nothing. I am interested to see if my phone rings tomorrow morning at 5:30 again. Personally, I hope not. But, if it does, at least it won't be waking Jeff up. Boy, did he ever hate that!

Out of Order

I was walking along with my iPhone in my pocket. Shea did something to justify an affectionate petting. As I bent over to give him some love, my phone dropped out of my pocket. No big deal, the iPhone's are supposed to be pretty resilient! I picked it up, put it back in my pocket and we continued on our merry way. 

To my surprise when I got inside and went to use my phone, the face was cracked. So much for resilient! It must have landed on a rock. My phone is my life-line, considering I live the life of a nomad, I do not have any other phone services. Not only do I make calls on my phone, I use all of the techie features from text messaging, emailing, and searching the internet, to playing all sorts of games. If this thing does not work, I am nearly cut off from the world. At least I would feel that way!

Well, the good Lord was looking out for me, because my phone still works. Not one single amazing feature has suffered from this fall. I hesitating in telling Jeff about the little mishap, predicting he wouldn't be too happy about it. I debated keeping it to myself, as I at least have two more weeks until he would find out. But, in the end, I decided to get it out now and not let it ruin Christmas! 

I heard the expectant, "that's why you can't have nice things!" An infamous Jeff line. One would presume from this that I break things often. Mind you, the Webster Dictionary defines broken as, "not functioning; out of order." I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that my phone is functioning, and therefore it cannot be considered broken.

Beyond that, out of fairness to myself, I have compiled a list of things that I have broken in the past year or two.

There it was, my list. Notice, there is nothing on it! I have not broken anything. 

Locked Out

As time continues to pass since the last time I have seen Jeff, the more absent-minded and scatter-brained I become. I have noticed it is getting progressively worse and today I exemplified the epitome of it. Or, at least I hope!

I noticed a downfall on my morning drives to school. Each morning when I headed to work last year, I was in the car to hear a secret bonus word. This bonus word could be turned in for points on the radio station's website and eventually can earn you prizes. Oddly enough, on my drive home in the afternoon, I hear another secret bonus word. So, with that, I figured I should sign up and pop these words in for prizes. And,   I did. Each day I would hear the words and have no problems remembering when I signed on to plug them in. In fact, I seemed to remember them for weeks. The word, the day they were chosen, and the exact times they were given. I have that weird kind of Rain Man memory sometimes.

As this school year has progressed, I have found it harder and harder to remember the words that I hear on my morning drive. In fact, I started forgetting it by the time I got out of the car that same morning. This was a warning signal that I am slowly losing my mind, much like morning sickness is a warning sign of pregnancy.

Today, however, went well beyond forgetting the secret bonus words. In fact, I actually remembered the secret bonus words today. Both of them, couple and ice. I popped them into the website and declared that I must be having a good day!

My uncle always likes to not only shut the garage door, but lock the door that goes into the mud room. Hoping to please him, I try to do this as well. So, when I stepped out to take Shea for a ride, I made sure to lock the garage door before leaving. To my surprise, I went to get in my car and I was locked out. My keys were not in my bag where I was expecting them to be. Luckily, the garage has a password. Being the coldest day of the season so far, I was not about to sit outside in 25 degrees. Shea and went in the garage and tried to entertain ourselves while I sifted through my non-existant options.

Freezing to death crossed my mind, as I knew my uncle was going out to dinner tonight. He wouldn't be home for hours. My phone came in handy, and so did my saint of a mother, who offered to drive down and pick me up. While waiting for her, to my surprise, the garage door began to open. My uncle had, moments earlier, made the decision to change out of his work clothes and into jeans before he went out to dinner. God bless the man! Shea and I were saved!

I would love to say that I will never make that mistake again, but with my frame of mind, you never know. Jeff keeps me sane. Currently, I am not!