Political Paraphanilia

On Thursday the alarm went off unceremoniously at 5-something in the morning. The Husband got up and started his day. Ten short minuets later the second alarm went off, signaling to me that it was my time to crawl out from under the warm pile of blankets and face the 38 degree morning that waited outside. Instead, I hit the snooze, grabbed the clock, and quickly shoved it under my pillow. It went off again 4 minuets later. (note: I should really get a standard alarm clock that has a 9 minuet snooze function).

Determined to take that morning walk with my boys, I crawled out of bed, stumbled across the floor, tripped on my slippers and made my way to the bathroom. I realize this sounds like the beginning of the kind of story where I flashback to the night before and then tell you about all the tequila shots I did. But I promise it wasn't like that. I never get out of bed before 7 after drinking tequila all night.

Eventually I found my sweat pants, my long sleeve, my hooded sweat shirt and pulled them on one by one; then I headed downstairs with eyes half closed. At some point I proceeded to pull the wrong string on my sweats which resulted in a huge tangled knot around my waist which was most disturbing to me at that moment. The Husband took one look at me and noted quite calmly that I should just go back up stairs. I looked at him blankly not wanting to give in and ate half a day old muffin.

When I was done with the muffin, I started to fall asleep in the chair I was propped up in. I heard the Husband say "just go back to bed". I mumbled back something about being a slacker and then I pulled myself back up the stairs. No way could I handle the 3 mile loop with the dogs.

I crawled into bed, fell immediately to sleep, and proceeded to have the type of dreams that only come when I am this type of tired and am technically taking a nap. Don't you always dream weirder when you are napping? I won't bore you with the whole dream; the plot in my unconscious mind is inconsequential. What is important is the product placement.

In my dream I was at my sister-in-law's kitchen. She was making homemade pasta from her brand new Hillary Clinton Lamp-Pasta Maker Combo. Yes, one part over sized table lamp and one part pasta maker, joining forces to create one creepy homage to Senator Clinton. The large table lamp had a ceramic base which was molded to the likeness of a bad caricature of Hillary Clinton's face (warning scary link). The light bulb poked up through the crown of her head, lampshade hanging diligently over her high cheek bones and big toothy grin. The back of her head sported a trap door where you would load the pasta dough. To activate the pasta machine all you had to do was pull her bottom lip open and the pasta would come out. I believe we were making fusilli - why? Because it's silly.

It was brilliant and disturbing and f-ing weird. The election is definitely getting to me.

reminscent

writing that story about the dude soap make think of a funny story involving the husband back before he was, "the husband" and his name was just murph.

a long time ago when we were in college and poor (as opposed to now when we have real jobs and are still poor) the husband would buy some items in bulk. in particular, shampoo. at one point he bought this HUGE bottle of Aussie brand shampoo. it was family sized and had a pump on the bottle and totally ridiculous for a single dude to purchase. oh, and it smelled like lollipops. sugary. purple. lollipops.

at first sniff it was okay but within moments your feelings on the matter would begin to change as your teeth began to ache from thinking they were being coated with some kind of super purple flavored taffy. occasionally, when i would stay at his apartment i would be forced to use the lollipop shampoo and then i would be reminded of it all day as back then i had super long hair.

months went by. the lollipop shampoo was still in his bathroom. i began to realize that the lollipop shampoo would be around forever since the bottle was so giant and murph had been rocking a tight fade for pretty much ever. you just don't use that much shampoo when your hair is only a 1/4 inch long.

that's when i took matters into my own hands. i started to squirt the shampoo down the drain when i took a shower for no other reason than to get to he end of the bottle sooner. yup. he was determined not to buy new shampoo until that bottle was gone and i was determined to waste as much of it as possible.

to this day we still have a strong no lollipop shampoo policy. instead we use this lovely clear and scentless shampoo from trader joes. and if you notice...it's cheap, too.

the importance of smelling the dude soap before you buy it

a few weeks ago the husband and i were at the target. we happen to walk by a display of dude soap (old spice body wash) for sale. since this is what the husband uses we stopped and randomly chose a bottle, threw it in the carriage and went on our way. i am one of those people who keeps the bathroom closet neat and much like a supply locker full of extra bathroom essentials. it may be slightly OCD like, but i never run out of toothpaste, toilet paper, body wash or conditioner.

so a week or two goes by and the husband pulled out the new dude soap and took a shower. i fully expected him to walk out smelling like a pine forest as usual but something was different. something was off. the usual and tolerable sent of "sport" which is fake pine and what can only be described as blue had been replaced by something called "fresh". i assure you that it was not "fresh". when i think "fresh" i think of ocean breezes, cut grass, cucumbers, and lettuce....this old spice version of "fresh" sort of smelled old, unnatural and faintly of baby- but not the good kind of new baby smell, more like desatin and unused diapers.

he used the soap all week, which wasn't causing too much of a stir since we don't really see one another in the morning. generally, by the time he gets home the smell of "fresh" is generally replaced by the sent of "lived another day", but then the weekend came. first, i was assaulted with the new soap saturday morning and was none too please. then i was assaulted again by the offending body wash saturday night when after attending a very sweaty have heart record release show the husband came home and showered before getting into bed. this is all well and good and quite considerate, except that when i woke up 8 hours later all i could smell was the "fresh" dude soap. ahhh. in my bed. first thing in the morning. maybe that's why i was in such a bad mood for the next 4 hours. in my mind i vowed to buy better smelling dude soap that day, and then promptly forgot all about it as the air filled with the sweet smell of espresso.

fast forward to 5:30pm when we were finally getting around to taking a shower on sunday. i realized that no new dude soap had been purchased. bummer. big time. because now i was in the steaming bathroom getting a nose full of "fresh" dude soap. yuk. i scoured the linen closet and there was nothing dude worthy in there. i contemplated telling the husband that pomegranate was the new pine but i didn't think he's fall for that.

instead, he washed with the "fresh" and at 6:05 we got in the car (after i broke my sidekick- crap!) and drove back to the target. i then proceeded to smell every flavor of old spice dude soap they carry. in addition to the old spice line i also smelled the "every man jack" -which was fine and had a neat wood grain plastic bottle but was too small. i also smelled the axe stuff which was white and also required that you buy that sponge that looks like a tire and that's just stupid. as an aside, i also found some kiss my face soap in the shape of a whale and some teen spirit body wash. i thought this might excite nene, but if that's what pop stars smell like i am glad the live in california.

oh, so here is the amazing part of the story. every freaking bottle of old spice dude soap smelled the same- like fake pine and blue- every bottle except "fresh".

the moral of this story: always remember that even when you think that all the dude soap is the same, don't buy without smelling it because they will try to trick you.

conversations....

overheard: two girls play "pretend"

"lets pretend that i'm your daughter, and we have a baby...and i'm 16 but can take care of it"- said small blond girl who couldn't have been more than 7 years old.

yikes!

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regarding household income

me: i don't want to pay for an expensive car
husband raises an eyebrow
me: why the raised eyebrow? because I don't actually pay for the cars?
husband: um yes
me: just so we're clear, i will never make as much money as you-never, well until this side project takes off...and it will
husband: what if you become one of those fancy expensive call girls?
me: murph?!
husband: all i'm sayin' is never say never
me: i'm going to punch you in the kidney

best aim ever

today i received the best aim message ever. seriously. the best ever. i mean i've only been on aim for like a month (which i realize puts me way behind the times anyway) but this news was big. it brought a tear to my eye. it put a huge teethy smile on my face. i assume it lit up my cubicle and that angelic music played around my halo of happiness throughout the office.

what was this most spectacular message?

wait for it....

liz phair. in boston. in august. preforming exile in guyville. and a ticket with my name on it - well two tickets really. the husband has proved to all just how awesome he is yet again.

you may recall this recent post about liz phair, and how much i really wished that she would come to boston. i believe i put it out there and i believe that i got just what i wanted.

excited doesn't cover it. august 29th is more than a month away but i am happy to have something to look forward to. hurray!

a fork! he used a fork!

the wires are off and the husband can talk again! happy day!

even the fact that i got rear-ended didn't bring me down.

yes, some silly lady caused a 4 car rear-ending experience today while i was on my way home. fortunately i was the last car to be hit and the damage was minor to my rear bumper.

so now i am doing some research while the husband talks on the phone! the phone...he can totally use the phone.

and that is the exciting news for today, folks . talking on the phone and using a fork.

oh wait did you hear about the celtics? oh you did? good!

he's back!

i know i have mentioned how awesome the husband is. and if you happen to have missed those posts, i'll tell you again. he rules. the evidence is clear...that time he pulled my alarm clock out from under the bed....when he did so great during his jaw surgery...and the fact that he will still see earth crisis should they happen to come to worcester.

but friday night really took the cake. we were clearing the final boxes and what-not from the back room to make way for the painters and the husband pulled a long lost friend from a cardboard box.

FLINT! he found flint!

flint went missing when we sold the red gti and bought the subaru last summer. i recall carefully removing him from his home on the dash and placing him into the box i was using to clear out the car. when i went to find him a week later he was no where to be found. at first i thought i just didn't look hard enough. then i thought i had the wrong box. then i figured i was a jack-ass and probably threw him away. now i know that he must have been stuck in the box all along. he is totally going into the dash of the subaru tomorrow.

thanks for reuniting me with an old friend.

and now we are home

its funny what becomes a good thing when you are experiencing something so far out of the norm. like slurping...normally that noise would probably drive me insane. but tonight the sound of the husband slurping up a strawberry smoothie has me smiling.

other things that are good today include the decision to have briggs bathed at the kennel, a fresh papaya, and the fact that i am planning to sleep for many hours in a row in the very near future.

its good to have everyone home.

update

the last few days have been consumed pretty much entirely by the husband's surgery. and while i spent most of tuesday completely stressed, i learned that as usual, my teeth clenching and wincing back tears, was all for not.

not only did the husband's jaw surgery go well, but he is days ahead of schedule on his recovery. he hasn't needed a pain med yet. he hasn't complained once. he started drinking fluids as soon as they let him and he has been friendly to every nurse who has hooked him up to a machine to check to see if he is still in fact alive. (because talking and breathing sometimes doesn't cover all the bases). for someone who just had their jaw broken and put back together and then had their mouth wired shut, this is good stuff. in fact its better than good, its amazing. in all likelihood he will be coming home tomorrow, which makes me more happy than you could even know.

so he is pretty much my hero. and i am a little bit closer to understanding exactly what PMA really means in practice.

he has received excellent care in each floor he has been on. which makes me feel better about blogging instead of finishing out the sox game with him in his room.

tonight

the husband:hows your blogging?

me: i can't think of anything to blog about

the husband: blog about candy

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me: hey, what could bobby flay "throw down" on me?

the husband: i know what i could throw down on you.

me: be careful or i'll blog about this

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bobby flay's assistant: she's wearing a long sleeve shirt and a sequin vest.

me & the husband: giggles over sequin vest

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it's a slow night 'round these parts. tucker hasn't said a word all night. however earlier today he said: "yeah i pooped on your yoga mat...you'll need a new one". he totally owned it. i don't think he was sorry at all. i need to watch ace of cakes now.

last we visited...

so last week i was ignoring my blog responsibilities in favor of continual playing of the very addictive and terrible "win the entire top 20". which i've already talked about here. i figured there would be plenty off opportunity for blogging this week, when i pulled my head out the sand and decided to give up bad internet video games for lent.

i was ready to start a week of daily posting when on sunday morning the unthinkable occurred...the computer shut off...for good. yes, the husband and i learned that tragedy can strike anyone anywhere and that we too could be subject to a bad hard drive. the shock, i know!

fortunately, our sick computer had been regularly backed up by the computer nerd genius i call "the husband" so very little was lost. actually he managed to recover what was lost with a nifty device from work.

so now we are back up and running. we are once again fully connected to the internet and not through the husband's work computer. (where he keeps telling i can't do things like download porn or illegal torrents or look at my favorite website of all time). i am so glad our brush with techno-tragedy was brief and almost uneventful and even forced me to go to the library to take out some books for lack of things to read, watch or otherwise keep my self occupied with.

tissues...i need tissues

oh my. have you ever had a week so shitty that the only way you can think to repair the damage done is to fashion yourself a time machine, go back to when you were about 12 and just live your life over again? last week was one of those weeks.

it started with the dog training on wednesday. i was excited and ready but lack confidence in my decision to go that route. my hesitation must have been very apparent to the dogs because last thursday will forever be known as the day briggs and i had a show down in the yard.

we had taken a morning walk and were returning to the house at about 6:45am, just in time for me to shower and dress for work. but briggs saw an opportunity when i made him sit before tromping up the back stairs. he wiggled out of his harness, broke free and proceeded to make life a living hell for the next hour. the details are over-rated. at this point all that is important is that i was stuck in the yard with my dog unable to move him for 20 mins and at the end of it wasted an hour of my day trying to get my big brown dog to come inside.

frustrated, overwhelmed and tearful i was finally able to get him in the house. i was an hour late for work and so shook up that i probably should have just stayed home.

at work i proceeded to have a crap day. both my underwriters were for upset with me and one was outwardly snarky with me- which is never good. i then had to send "stern" emails to two people. i lost a good sized account after much effort invested in trying to salvage i. then, i yelled at my boss in front of everyone. and then it gets better....

i finally calmed down. my heart stopped racing from the morning of freaking out. i was sitting at my desk typing away when my foot started to hurt. FOR REAL hurt. i took my shoe off. then my sock. then suddenly i'm looking at swollen thing that used to be my ankle but surely can't be because last i checked my ankle was in fact an ankle and not a cankle. i tried at that point to make my way over to the printer and couldn't really walk. so i left work early (after arriving an hour late) to drive myself to the er where i was x-rayed and looked over. i don't recall being in that much pain before i was sure i had broken my foot.

good news is that somewhere in my fit of rage that morning with the dog i managed only to sprain my ankle. i was given some super advil, some crutches and an air cast. crutches are for sissies so i just used my air cast and some ice.

friday morning i limped out of the house to go to work to be met by the crossing guard, who proceeded to show me how my neighbor had backed out of his driveway and into the door of my car. so she then very nicely held my coffee and my purse while i climbed into my car with my gimpy foot because my door wouldn't open. yup. the little old lady crossing guard said, "wow you've had a terrible week. you should just go back to bed".

fortunately my day at work was slow and uneventful. of course then i got home in time to have to dealwith my car-crunching neighbor and somehow get into a tiff with the husband where i'm sure i ended up sounding like a complete jack-ass. in the end we patched things up and he left to go see earth crisis and i stayed home to watch tv, rest my foot and savor two glasses of wine.

looking back on the week i can see about 1,000 ways that i didn't handle myself well. mostly i couldn't get out of my own way and instead of calming down and centering myself to move forward, i basically plowed over myself and anyone unfortunate enough to be in front of me.

here's hoping that i can learn from all this, that this week is great and that my foot heals quickly.

scene from the other night

it 10:15pm.

from the bathroom i yell with my mouth full of toothpaste, "oh no!".

the husband responds, "what?".
which sounds to my trained ear like, "i'm already in bed, what could you possible need?".

i spit out my toothpaste and yell back, "my alarm clock is under the bed".

the husband responds, "ok, why?".
which i know means "what the fuck? my wife is insane. of course that's where her alarm clock is".

i am silent, finish washing my face and come into our bedroom to find the husband with his head and arms under the bed.

he picks himself up, hands me the clock and the batteries and says, "it's very dusty under there".

i say, "thank you. i know".

as i write this he is sweeping the dust bunnies out from under there. he showed them to me a minute ago, but i thought it would be gross to post a picture. you can probably go look under your own bed for the visual.

point is, the husband rules.

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