No Sooner Had I Promised...

... than the corporate bandwagon of my company rolled into town. Argh. There can be very little posting whilst they watch us all like this:



Suddenly I feel like a little field mouse... and a dancing monkey... a dancing field mouse-monkey.

Corporate bullshit. Love it.

For Those Having a Boring Afternoon....

I give you: Christopher Walken!



I'm peeing my pants a little. I love this man (even though he is looking rather corpse-like these days).

GOOGLY EYES! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHH!

You Heard it Here First: Everything's Bigger in Texas

Including the hangovers.

Ouch.

Free wine + Me = One hell of a good time (AKA: I got drunk). Which is fine, really. I don't go out to "party" anymore. I don't go to bars and tie one on or anything like that. I do enjoy some wine at home on a pretty regular basis, but I don't really cut totally loose all that often. So, going to a friend's wedding and getting smashed is totally ok in my book - and as far as I know I did not make an ass out of myself, which makes it all even better.

But, damn. Waking up at 6 AM the next morning for our flight was rough. After we left the hotel and were up in the great blue sky I realized that I had almost zero recollection of what I had done first thing that morning. I was just going through the motions (which, and I'm going to credit my sleepwalking habit here, I apparently do pretty well). You know, shower, brush teeth, get dressed, throw shit in bag, walk around to make sure there is not additional shit to put in bag... things like that. We made it out on time and did not forget anything - score for us.

We ate a pretty fulfilling breakfast of eggs, toast and hash browns at the airport - which, in hindsight were probably crap but they tasted like am-freaking-brosia (the nectar of the Gods - in case you did not have Greek/Roman mythology shoved down your throats at some point in time like I did). I was loving the eggs and was feeling much much better.

Then we flew.

And I thought I just might die.

Southwest (which, please don't get me wrong, they are definitely my favorite airline) does not have any direct flights from Dallas to Chicago. And that blows. Both there and back we had to do a short layover where we sat on the plane and waited for the new passengers to come aboard before continuing on. Fine, I don't mind waiting. it was the whole "let's take off and land TWICE" thing that made me want to toss my proverbial cookies all over the place.

Like this:



Cute, eh?

But, we made it without incident, ordered a big pizza (which I ate most of - regrettably) and then proceeded to partake in our individual relaxation activities. Husband played his computer game, and I laid, sloth-like, on the couch and watched the Golden Girls.

Bliss.

Next weekend, project "let's clean out the garage so that it can fit both our cars" and project "let's clean up our dirty ass house" commence. Spring cleaning has never seen a fury for cleanliness like the one currently residing in the depths of my gut. I will conquer all disorganized closets and scour each surface. Even the dogs will be getting makeovers (ok, they're just getting an overdue grooming out of the way). The goal is that by Sunday evening I will be able to sit down and victoriously look upon my spotless home and well-manicured pups, smile with the deepest sense of satisfaction and then lament the loss of my weekend to chores - which will, let's face it, inevitably happen.

More on this later. And more from this corner of the blogosphere tomorrow.

PS: I'm going to try to be more diligent about posting more frequently. I know how disappointing it is for all 7 of you to come over here and find nothing new. Don't you fret my dears, I'm on it.

On it, I am.

Blech.

I just got back from the dentist. I left work and used my lunch break to get my teeth drilled.

It was awful.

Even with today's modern technology, getting your teeth drilled is still fucking horrible (sorry for the profanity, but I still can't feel my lower jaw or tongue and it's pissing me off).

I immediately came to my desk, logged into You Tube, and found this video:




Dirty bastards.

Texas, Here I Come!

Watch out Dallas, TX!

I will be prowling your streets by this time tomorrow, and I know how to prowl... believe me.

Anybody know anything good to do in Dallas besides eating? I've been trying to find an activity to keep Husband and I occupied whilst we wait for our friend's rehearsal dinner to begin. We are slackers (it's true) so by the time we booked our flight all the good ones were gone, and we ended up on a 7 AM flight. Ouch. That means a 4 AM wake-up call and a 10:40 AM arrival in Dallas, so we have, oh, about 8.5 hours to kill before the dinner is underway.

I looked up tickets to go to Six Flags down there, but we really don't have enough time to spend 2 hours waiting for a rollercoaster that will probably end up sucking to then wait two more hours for a second potentially sucky coaster... it would hardly be worth our $60.

Then I thought, Hey! We could go to a museum or something. And I found this one:

Yep. It's the Cockroach Hall of Fame! Which, in spite of what you may immediately think, I think sounds AWESOME! However, it's in Plano, TX - which doesn't sound awesome. So, I kept looking and I found something called the:

THE CONSPIRACY MUSEUM

Which, HOLY HELL, sounds rad! It should also sound extremely fitting for those of you who have the pleasure of knowing Husband - because he's TOTALLY into that stuff. But (and it is with a heavy heart I inform you of this) The Conspiracy Museum has been closed. Bummer.

So, I'm kind of stuck! No cockroaches, no conspiracies. What are a couple of kids supposed to do!? Yeah, yeah, yeah they do have other museums of the more average variety, and there's an aquarium that we might check out, but we're from Chicago! We've got all that stuff right here! I want to do something that is quintessentially Dallas-ish.

I guess for the time being we will just plan on walking around and looking at stuff. Fun. But the wedding that we are going there to attend should be tons of fun, so it will more than make up for a couple of hours of blah.

Hopefully I'll have some interesting stories to share on Monday when we return from our mini-vacation to the warmer climates of Texas. At the very least I'll have a rockin' wedding recap and an airline tale or two (because something's always happening at the airport).

Here's wishing you all a great weekend. I'll catch you on the flipside!

Weekend Update

Happy Monday, suckas!

I am in an unfathomably good mood today, which is totally bizarre considering that when I woke up this morning I considered breaking my own arm to avoid having to come into work. Ok, I wouldn't really break my own arm because that would involve having some crazy-ass level of determination that I do not possess. Quite honestly, if the zombie plague ever comes, I will be one of the first to die - and most likely it will be because I will just stand still and scream until I'm eaten - just to get it over with, you know?

Anyway, I'm glad to be alive and not plagued by zombies or anything of that sort. This weekend was rad for many reasons too, so that is another contributor to my zest for being zesty.

Husband is awesome and he painted our bedroom and bathroom this weekend. It's blue, and I L-O-V-E it. I promise I will try to post a picture of it so you can all be inspired by his painting talents. So, I was a happy homemaker and I went to Target (pronounced tar-jay (say it like you're French but avoid becoming conceited over your worldliness, please)) and had a grand ole time picking out a couple of new accoutrements (also pronounced like a fancy frenchie) for our boudoir (God, I am ROCKING the french today) - well actually, most of the time I was restraining myself from purchasing EVERY knick-knack in the damn place because everything is completely adorable (God! I love Target). I mean, there were at least 10 bowls and/or glass thingees that I HAD TO HAVE. Of course, I forced myself to pick just two... so I did. But then, I found this:

OH.

MY.

GOD.

This is the best thing I have ever SEEN! So, I quickly threw one of my selected items back on the shelf and lovingly carried this completely useless fish-shaped vase straight to the checkout line. I'm freaking nuts about it.

But, I also have no freaking clue what I'm going to do with the thing. I don't care though. It's cool and it's mine and I'm thrilled. Hoot!

God, I'm shallow.

Aw, YEAH!

Check it!

The blog's got a new attitude, eh? I'm INFINITELY pleased with myself right now, so I'm not even going to ask for anyone's opinion. If you hate it, shut up about it! If you love it, feel free to sing my praises. :)

And here's a funny clip to brighten up yet another ENDLESS Wednesday. Hump day, Schump day!

Death by Embarrassment

So, something strange happened to me this weekend. I'm not even kidding. Something REALLY freaking strange happened to me, and it's making me quite ill at ease.

This past weekend I found out that I am a sleepwalker.

Never, in my whole life, had I ever done this before. Never. But, I had had some experiences with my little sister as a kid where she had been sleepwalking - and, I'm not going to lie, it freaked me out every single time it happened. I have always been completely uncomfortable with the entire concept. I mean, walking around with a glassy-eyed stare in the dark, "creeping quietly through the house" (as one online journal put it) is a thought that has always thrown chills down my back. So, discovering that I actually do this was a big blow to me.

And the circumstances surrounding this epiphany made it even worse. I mean, they were bad.

It was totally embarrassing.

Before I tell you how it happened, I first want to share something about myself: I HATE to be embarrassed. To me, it feels like dying. I feel like I'm suffocating from it, and my immediate reaction is always to cry and to hide. I have a very strong reaction, and the situation is made none the better due to the fact that I am also very easily embarrassed. As I've grown older, I have tried to remedy these natural reactions of mine and have come up with a few successful safeguards:

1. I try to tell myself that it is nothing. No big deal. It will not be remembered for long, and the other people who witness this probably don't think much of it anyhow. I try to let it go.

2. I take deep breaths and try to smile and make a joke. For smaller embarrassments, this normally works. I have gotten much better at swallowing the emotions and making light of it.

3. I do everything in my power to avoid it.

Most of the time I am successful with these. I try to be very aware of myself, and I definitely put forth a daily effort to live as embarrassment-free as possible. Of course, sometimes you just can't help it, but other times I have been able to identify a possible embarrassing moment and sidestep it. This pleases me to no end.

Naturally, the double-whammy of this weekend was not only the knowledge that I'm a freaky sleepwalker, but that in this state (where I have no control) I embarrassed myself. I hate knowing that I can't be the master of my actions while sleepwalking. That fact is even more scary than the whole walking around in the dark thing. The whole scenario leaves me helpless to it - especially when I had put no safeguards in place for being embarrassed while sleeping.

And, man oh man. This was a doozy of an embarrassing moment.

My little sister had brought her new boyfriend to our house for the weekend (already you should be able to see that this is going nowhere good, and fast). He is a really nice guy, and Husband and I were both impressed and very glad to meet him. They stayed in our guest room both Friday and Saturday nights.

Sunday morning, I was up making waffles when they came downstairs. I asked the usual, cheerful morning questions and as I looked up for a response I could tell they were smirking about something - something that made them both uncomfortable. The new bf said, "Well, something weird happened to us last night." Just with the way he was looking at me, I knew that I had done something. Automatically my throat clenched up, my stomach dropped, and fear clutched my heart.

"Last night at 2:30 AM, you climbed into bed with us."

WHAT!?!?!?!?

Me: "No way. NO WAY! I couldn't have, I was asleep."

New BF: "Exactly. You were sleepwalking."

Little sister breaks into laughter at this point.

Me: "Husband! HUSBAND!? Where are you!?"

He finally comes into the room

Me: "Did you know that I'm a sleepwalker?"

Husband: "No. You are?"

Me: "Apparently so. And I climbed into bed with them last night."

Husband: "What!? That's crazy. I had no idea."

The scene continued with a few more, "I can't believe it"s, but it was all just an echo in my head. I could feel it happening. I was falling into it. I just kept repeating, "I'm really sorry. I'm so embarrassed." over and over and over until I felt the stinging tears at the back of my eyes. I poured another waffle into the waffle-maker, asked Husband to please check it in a few minutes, and avoided all eye contact as I tried to discreetly slip upstairs.

I came completely unglued. My head was a tangle of horrible thoughts. He said I crawled into bed, but what else did I do? Oh GOD, I wasn't wearing pajama bottoms, they both saw my underwear! Oh God, I hope I didn't do anything else. Please God, tell me I didn't do anything else.

Husband came up to check on me, which only made things worse. He meant well, of course, but I was completely horrified with myself. All that hard work, all those days of trying not to embarrass myself, trying to avoid my greatest fear were all for nothing. Turns out, I'm so determined to make a fool of myself that I'll do it in my sleep. They were getting ready to leave, so I hopped in the shower like a coward and waited until they had gone before I ventured out.

Husband had talked to the new bf and he had reiterated that I merely walked into the room, laid down for 10 seconds or so, got back up and promptly walked out. Still, it consumed me all day. I just couldn't stop feeling helpless about it, and of course, totally humiliated that I'd done it, and to top if all off, I felt foolish for being such a baby about it. I was trying to make a good impression on the new bf, and I had succeeded only in showing him my underwear after crawling into bed with him and then crying so much about it that I couldn't compose myself enough to say goodbye in person.

Brilliant. Good work.

Anyway, I am still embarrassed, but I'm starting to get over it. And the sleepwalking thing sort of makes sense from what I've read online, and it definitely explains a couple of past weird moments. Like the time that Husband woke up in the middle of the night and our humidifier was off and the door was open. We always make sure that the opposite is true when we go to bed, and since I had come up second, I chalked it up to forgetfulness and moved on. But, it gnawed at me all day that I was pretty sure I had successfully done both those things. It was only after the humiliation of Sunday that it dawned on me that I must have shut the humdifier off on my way out of our bedroom while sleepwalking. Yuck. I hate this.

At the very least I guess I can maybe use it for an excuse or two down the line.... Like

Husband: "Honey? Why didn't you remember my birthday?"

Me: "What!? I did! I swear! I bought your present and everything... oh, I must have returned it while I was sleepwalking... sorry honey, I just can't help it! "

See? I'm getting better already - jokes and everything.

And from now on out, I wear pajama bottoms to bed and tell all guests to lock their doors - apparently, there's a sleepwalking perv roaming the halls of my house at night....

God, I'm embarrassed.

Tuesdays RULE!

And by "RULE" I mean, "are totally boring."

So, a friend showed me a music video the other day by this band called "Gil Mantera" (which is actually the name of one of the guys in the band, but whatever) which totally slayed me.

Check them out on YouTube if you dare... I'm not going to link to it because I don't put SMUT like that on here (contrary to popular opinion), and by "SMUT" I mean, "guys playing crappy electronic music while airhumping their instruments and wearing only thongs."

But they do a pretty sweet cover of "Dreams" by, Fleetwood Mac, so I had to give them nods. Plus, I haven't laughed so hard in a while, so it was totally worth being grossed out by their thong-wearing and keyboard stand-felating (I think I made this word up... awesome).

Speaking of gross:

I'm currently reading this book, and it is gross.... and RADICAL! If you like stories about vampire/zombie people who eat other people and live under a graveyard then pick it up! Clive Barker is truly a sick sick man, and I am so glad for it. Hoot!

Horror books are some of my favorites. I read at least ten Stephen King books in in high school (Pet Semetary is my favorite of the favorites) but have not really delved into the genre much further. But, since the Horror section is right next to the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section at the Borders near my house, I wandered over there during Husband's and my last visit (because I always finish looking around before he does and I always end up waiting in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section while he sizes up which Post-Apocalyptic novel he will read next - he's nerdy and I love him). So, I gave this one a shot and have, so far, not been disappointed... although I have, on several occasions, been nauseated (he gets really gross sometimes - I mean HELLA gross).

It's actually pretty weird that I like horrific fiction so well because I despise - with an infinite passion - horror movies.

Ah, the dualities of a complex woman (points to self).

Happy Tuesday, friends!