"Please don't think I'm nuts, Dr. S, but I feel so strange- like my arms are getting shorter."
"I've heard that before."
"Whew. I'm glad it's not weird or something."
"Oh, it's weird. I've just heard it before."
Thursday, September 10, 2009
A Farewell to Arms
Sitting in the doctor's office, 5 PM, bloodwork check.
"I don't know, honey, I've just been feeling weird."
"Like what?" He leans in and takes my hand, his thumb lightly stroking my palm.
"I can't explain it, really- I feel like my arms are getting shorter."
He leans back, scootches his chair over, and goes back to his battered back issue of Smithsonian.
Happy 2nd anniversary, sweetie.
"I don't know, honey, I've just been feeling weird."
"Like what?" He leans in and takes my hand, his thumb lightly stroking my palm.
"I can't explain it, really- I feel like my arms are getting shorter."
He leans back, scootches his chair over, and goes back to his battered back issue of Smithsonian.
Happy 2nd anniversary, sweetie.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
This Blog Brought to You by the Umbrella Corporation
So during lunch I race to the local library to pick up the book waiting on hold for me there. Pride and Prejudice. And Zombies.
I scout out the usual shelves, hoping the website was wrong and there were copies of the other new arrivals for me to check out and devour over the weekend. Finally, I go to the hold shelves and pick up my book.
Pride. Check.
Prejudice. Check.
Zombies. No check.
I raced all the way across town to pick up a copy of a book I already have? Without the extra ultra-cool zombie violence? Are you kidding me? Plus, what am I supposed to do? Go up to the checkout desk and complain about being given a classic of British literature?
Freaky people trying to shove straight Austen down other people's throats.
I scout out the usual shelves, hoping the website was wrong and there were copies of the other new arrivals for me to check out and devour over the weekend. Finally, I go to the hold shelves and pick up my book.
Pride. Check.
Prejudice. Check.
Zombies. No check.
I raced all the way across town to pick up a copy of a book I already have? Without the extra ultra-cool zombie violence? Are you kidding me? Plus, what am I supposed to do? Go up to the checkout desk and complain about being given a classic of British literature?
Freaky people trying to shove straight Austen down other people's throats.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Is Her Nails Prettier Than Mine Is?
A partial list of television shows I've watched since being left alone in the house:
Saved By The Bell: The College Years (I don't remember co-ed suites at college. Actually, I don't remember rooms big enough for that much furniture. Or full kitchens. Hey, wait a minute...)
Saved By The Bell: The Not College Years (Ahh, high school. Nope, don't remember any of this, either.)
Ace of Cakes (Oh, wacky, wacky Duff. You amuse me so.)
The Next Food Network Star (Four episodes- Melissa so did not deserve to win. But at least the Asian woman is gone- I grew tired of her explaining she was Korean every time she appeared on camera. "These are Asian pears, and did you know I'm Korean?")
So You Think You Can Dance Parts 1 and 2 (Way to go Evan! My favorite dancer is still the guy that jumped the couch in the Singin' in the Rain Broadway routine, but woo hoo to you! Now if you can just hire someone to kneecap Brandon...)
16 and Pregnant (2 episodes, and more funny quotes than one can possibly imagine. For example, "I just want to go out with some friends and drink some beers. It's hard work getting into the Air Force.")
The Secret Life of the American Teenager (4 episodes- ABC Family was running a marathon. Don't even get me started- but I will note that casting Molly Ringwald as the MOTHER in a dramedy makes me feel very, very old. Know what this show needs? Yep, you guessed it. Duckie.)
Bridezillas (2 episodes- I finally had to force myself to go to bed after Karee cursed her mother-in-law for letting her bridesmaid buy leopard-print shoes and get acrylic nails 1/4-inch too long- you can imagine my delight when I checked msnbc this morning and discovered Karee had been arrested because her appearance on the show violated her parole. Now that's reality tv.)
So officially the IQ-level in the Schaefer household drops no less than 50 points when the alpha male is away.
Hurry home, honey. My brain hurts.
Saved By The Bell: The College Years (I don't remember co-ed suites at college. Actually, I don't remember rooms big enough for that much furniture. Or full kitchens. Hey, wait a minute...)
Saved By The Bell: The Not College Years (Ahh, high school. Nope, don't remember any of this, either.)
Ace of Cakes (Oh, wacky, wacky Duff. You amuse me so.)
The Next Food Network Star (Four episodes- Melissa so did not deserve to win. But at least the Asian woman is gone- I grew tired of her explaining she was Korean every time she appeared on camera. "These are Asian pears, and did you know I'm Korean?")
So You Think You Can Dance Parts 1 and 2 (Way to go Evan! My favorite dancer is still the guy that jumped the couch in the Singin' in the Rain Broadway routine, but woo hoo to you! Now if you can just hire someone to kneecap Brandon...)
16 and Pregnant (2 episodes, and more funny quotes than one can possibly imagine. For example, "I just want to go out with some friends and drink some beers. It's hard work getting into the Air Force.")
The Secret Life of the American Teenager (4 episodes- ABC Family was running a marathon. Don't even get me started- but I will note that casting Molly Ringwald as the MOTHER in a dramedy makes me feel very, very old. Know what this show needs? Yep, you guessed it. Duckie.)
Bridezillas (2 episodes- I finally had to force myself to go to bed after Karee cursed her mother-in-law for letting her bridesmaid buy leopard-print shoes and get acrylic nails 1/4-inch too long- you can imagine my delight when I checked msnbc this morning and discovered Karee had been arrested because her appearance on the show violated her parole. Now that's reality tv.)
So officially the IQ-level in the Schaefer household drops no less than 50 points when the alpha male is away.
Hurry home, honey. My brain hurts.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Miller Time
A particularly soul crushing day at work.
It's been five o'clock somewhere since 10 AM.
So I plan on parking myself on the couch with a margarita, a book, and hours of mindless television.
Woe to thee who interrupts me.
It's been five o'clock somewhere since 10 AM.
So I plan on parking myself on the couch with a margarita, a book, and hours of mindless television.
Woe to thee who interrupts me.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Ren Faire
Since I last posted my car has been in and out of the garage twice, ants invaded and were repulsed from our home, horrible creepy wormy things infested our shrubbery and were summarily dispatched by my husband's Rain (Reign?) of Death, and I was made a princess by a dragon. I'm assuming you believe the parts about the ants and bagworms and car problems, so here is a picture of the dragon.
I don't know why the woman is doing calisthenics in the background, but she brings me fairly close to my point.
Renaissance Faires (in America at least) don't have anything to do with the Renaissance, do they? As we drove ye olde Liberty eastward Saturday morning, Travis and I tried to pinpoint dates for the Renaissance, hoping to help orient ourselves into the time we would be stepping into.
We probably shouldn't have bothered. If the Middle Ages had a Walmart, that's what we stepped into. The first reenactor we met greeted us with a hale "Huzzah" that fit him only slightly better than the woman's kilt and black fannypack he wore around his waist. Then there were the harem girls. And there were many. Predominantly one size- too large to be wearing coins, veils, and little else. Historical accuracy took a backseat to what was 1) comfortable, 2) cheap, and 3) "close enough to medieval times." Who cares if there weren't ninjas in Dark Age Europe- the costumes look cool- let's wear them!
Neither comfortable nor cheap, but "close enough," the dragon was the best part of the festival (for me anyway). A little man wearing a green velour hooded costume in 90 degree heat, his main reason for being there was selling ice cream. He might actually have sold some, too, between dancing ("I'm doing the dragon dance- that's 'cause every dance I do is the dragon dance. It's nice when it works out that way.") and frolicking with the other Fairegoers.
As we were leaving I overheard the dragon begin to tell another merchant what he did in "real life." I walked away before we could hear more of the story. Ants, bagworms, car troubles- that's the stuff of real life. Sometimes it's nice to stay in the fantasy, even if it has only a tenuous grasp on the truth. And even if it's only for a couple of hours.
I don't know why the woman is doing calisthenics in the background, but she brings me fairly close to my point.
Renaissance Faires (in America at least) don't have anything to do with the Renaissance, do they? As we drove ye olde Liberty eastward Saturday morning, Travis and I tried to pinpoint dates for the Renaissance, hoping to help orient ourselves into the time we would be stepping into.
We probably shouldn't have bothered. If the Middle Ages had a Walmart, that's what we stepped into. The first reenactor we met greeted us with a hale "Huzzah" that fit him only slightly better than the woman's kilt and black fannypack he wore around his waist. Then there were the harem girls. And there were many. Predominantly one size- too large to be wearing coins, veils, and little else. Historical accuracy took a backseat to what was 1) comfortable, 2) cheap, and 3) "close enough to medieval times." Who cares if there weren't ninjas in Dark Age Europe- the costumes look cool- let's wear them!
Neither comfortable nor cheap, but "close enough," the dragon was the best part of the festival (for me anyway). A little man wearing a green velour hooded costume in 90 degree heat, his main reason for being there was selling ice cream. He might actually have sold some, too, between dancing ("I'm doing the dragon dance- that's 'cause every dance I do is the dragon dance. It's nice when it works out that way.") and frolicking with the other Fairegoers.
As we were leaving I overheard the dragon begin to tell another merchant what he did in "real life." I walked away before we could hear more of the story. Ants, bagworms, car troubles- that's the stuff of real life. Sometimes it's nice to stay in the fantasy, even if it has only a tenuous grasp on the truth. And even if it's only for a couple of hours.
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