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!

So Far Away...

When I placed this movie on our Netflix queue, I already knew it wasn't the best idea. The whole film centers around an older couple in their 60's who are unexpectedly faced with the horrific truth of Alzheimer's. It is the wife who becomes afflicted, and with her mind only beginning to wane, she makes the decision to check herself into a nursing home rather than burden her husband with her care.

I cried pretty much the entire movie because it is not only sad, but I have a personal connection with this disease. It claimed my Granny quite a few years ago, and it will never give her back.

I know that it is difficult to deal with the declining physical health of the elderly. I watched my Grandmother suffer from the after-effects of a major stroke for most of my childhood and teenage years before old age took her home - so, I have experienced the intense grief associated with being a witness to the steady decline of a family members physical body. But, I have to say (and you can disagree if you want - it's always a person's right to do so) that it has been noticeably harder for me to deal with my Granny's mental deterioration than is was for me to handle my other Grandmother's physical woes.

The difficulty lies in the fact that it is expected that as we get older and edge towards the end of this life that our physical bodies will become weaker and break down. After all, our lives on this planet are measured as "over" when our physical bodies give out on us. But, it has been really, significantly sad for my family to watch my Granny's perfectly healthy body stay healthy while her razor sharp mind has become a mess of confusion. It seems unnatural, not the way things should be.

Probably the saddest day for me came shortly after she had begun living at an assisted living facility. My Mom got a routine update from the nurse giving her the good news that my Granny had finally been convinced to shower with one of the nurses assisting her. My Granny had immediately resisted this, saying she didn't need help - but none of us were quite sure if that was true since we were not sure when she had last showered before we brought her there. Things had gone south quickly before we decided she needed full-time help. Her sense of hygiene had declined sharply, and although her home was very neat, it was also very filthy. Everything was in its right place but dust and grime covered every surface. Her clothing was always in need of washing, and she had started to smell. This, in and of itself, was heartbreaking as she had always taken a lot of pride in the fact that she was an excellent housekeeper. Truthfully, her cataracts were as much to blame for the dirt as her Alzheimer's was, but the fact remained that she no longer had the judgement needed to keep clean on her own. The nurse then gave my Mom the "wonderful" news that not only had my Granny showered, but she had done it completely by herself, even balancing on one foot at one point to scrub the other foot's bottom. The whole staff was completely blown away by what excellent physical condition she was in. My Mom thanked her for the report and then promptly hung up the phone and cried.

You see, to us, this wasn't the greatest news. Yes, it is wonderful that at almost 80 years of age my Granny could still perform such amazing feats of balance. And yes, it is amazing that even in the slippery shower (where, in all honesty, her 26 year-old granddaughter (points at self) has slipped attempting the same maneuver - and not just once) she could manage an act that causes many people much difficulty. But for us, it was like an extra kick in the teeth. It was like Life was mocking us.

Life: "Hey family! Guess what!? Your Granny has Alzheimer's! And in a few months, she'll barely know you. That's right! She'll grow to not know you at all only a short time after that. She'll become confused, and she'll cry. She'll ask you if: She ever had a husband? Children? Where did she live? What was she like? Who is she at all? Who are you? Why are you in her room? Eventually, she'll become so confused that during the middle of the night she'll wander out of her room and punch another resident in the face. Yep, you'll have to send her to a REAL home then. Not like the current "cushy" joint. Oh, and did I mention that she's going to live a LONG LONG time. Aren't you pleased!?

It just doesn't seem fair. A person should be rewarded for taking care of their body. They should get to have a long healthy life that they enjoy, that means something. But my Granny does not enjoy her health. She just sits. She sits and she listens to the other old people who inhabit the "crazy people" wing of the nursing home she now lives in.

Last year, I went with my Mom and sisters to see her in the new home. After she was booted out of the assisted living facility, we had no choice but to put her in a place that provided more security. She was now sharing a room with another woman, and was given a lot more medication that she had been previously given. I had tried my best to prepare for what I was going to see, for how she would look, for how this new place would be different, but I couldn't have known.

They were having some sort of party. Someone's birthday or something. All 10 or so old folks were seated at tables with two plastic cups in front of them. One was full of fruit punch. The other was full of popcorn. My first thought was, "My God. They look like preschoolers." Young children being pacified by a pre-measured serving of punch and popcorn. Young children seated at school tables with that germy-urine smell in the air being barely concealed with the heavy smell of antiseptic.

And my Granny. She looked... defeated.

We spent about an hour with her there. Some of the other people were very talkative, and I could see my Granny looking around every once in a while as she caught a conversation, and then turning her head back to glance at us as we talked or at the floor. I took my turn and tried to tell her some exciting news from my life. I told her I was getting married, and I described Husband to her. I told her about our new home and our dog. I let her know that one of Harry's (one of her past pups) toys was still around and that Logan loved playing with it. I talked about work and told her I missed her. And then just as I'd reached my limit and I could feel the tears beginning to choke me, my Mom gave the signal that it was time for us to go.

We all gave her hugs. I chose to go last, and as I leaned down I heard her murmuring something. I couldn't understand right away, so I asked her to repeat herself. I drew close so I could hear better, and as I did she said, "...there's just never enough time."

"....there's just never enough time."

And that was it. I drew back and fought hard to hold onto my tears, but I could feel them coming with a vengeance, and I didn't want to confuse her with my crying. It never does any good to cry and plead with someone who has Alzheimer's, they don't understand you anymore. They don't understand your sadness or disappointment, or even what it really means. So, I hugged her again and turned quickly to head down the hallway. I made it about halfway before my sobs bubbled over the surface and took me.

I have not been back.

Sometimes I feel really guilty for not being there more often. True, I don't go home to Indiana very often, so I have few opportunities to see her, but even the few times I have been back I have not made the trip. I suppose that part of me doesn't really see the point. My Mom visits her a couple hours a week, and although she is pleasant as she listens, none of it ever sinks in. There is no magical moment where clarity creeps in and lights her up. There are no miracles. There are no recognitions. She is gone. Far far away. And nothing is going to bring her back.

I am always expecting a call to tell me she has passed. In a way, I guess I almost hope for it sometimes. I know the woman she was, and I know she would be enraged with the woman she has become. She is a shell who looks like my Granny, but my Granny is no longer there. I know that when the day arrives I will feel the weight of the finality, but most of my grief has already been felt. I lost her years ago, so when her day of peace comes, I know that with it will come a sense of peace for me too.

She will be reconnected with herself again. Whole. No longer just a staring body that tries to remember who she was. No longer alone and away from us. But reconnected with herself, and finally resting after a long and trying journey. Finally at peace.

It's possible that I'm selfish. But, I really don't see it that way. I only want her to know herself again - and we have been assured many times over that that is not something we can hope for.

I believe we all take that for granted, knowing ourselves. Even if we don't like who we see in the mirror. Even if there are points in our history that we regret, or memories that cause us pain - there is no greater gift than being able to know and remember all those things. Having a past, and having a sense of self are too important to lose. They provide us with an identity, they make life make some sense. What would we be without them?

Just shells. Just bodies. People robbed of what it is that makes them human - fears, hopes, memories, love, regret, sadness. All of it, gone. It is a condition that I wish on no one. It is, in my opinion, the greatest of tragedies. And that is why I sometimes ask God to grant my Granny peace of mind, the peace of a whole mind.

And I hope that maybe in her dreams I visit her sometimes. I hope that maybe in that world she can see and know me and that we can talk the way we used to. I hope that in some place she still remembers how much she means to all of us. I hope, in spite of everything. And try desperately to remember it all, no matter how much it may hurt.

Just about Peed my Pants!

So, I was watching an episode of "Dexter" last night off of my DVR (which is a SUPER rad show) and saw this movie trailer (as I forgot to fast-forward the commercials like I always do):



Slap me silly, that looks SCARY!

But, in all truth, I'm pretty much the sissiest of the sissified, so I'm not a great judge. I am, however, an excellent judge of creepy-sounding music, and they totally nailed it by including "Sprout and the Bean" by Joanna Newsom... she's got one of those childlike voices that either lends itself to artsy fartsy music (which I happen to enjoy) or to the end credits of "Poltergeist." In this case, it's poltergeist all the way, baby.

The Fine Art of Looking Like an Ass

Long story short: This woman should be me.


Of, course I would never wear that creepy '50s hair-do, or have such a vacant, zombie-esque stare. I would, however have skin this color (or should I say lack of color) and I should be wearing that neck brace.

That's right, this genius right here has hurt her neck. How did I do it? No clue. Right now, it's looking like I just slept too hard - which I find hilarious, because only an idiot (points to self) could really injure themselves while SLEEPING. I mean, come on! I have to have some sort of cosmic pox on my head to have hurt my neck this bad in my SLEEP. Incredible. I must deserve some kind of award.

Basically, I woke up and I can't move my neck. It hurts even without moving it - which I've never experienced before. I know almost everyone has woken up with a stiff neck before from having your head in a weird position or being a little too kinky in the lovin' department the night before, but this is not like the other times. Hmmm. Methinks I may be falling apart.

Granted, I have had little to no physical exercise in the past couple of weeks, so it's possible that my whole body is slowly deteriorating from lack of use. Probably I'll come home tonight to find a couple of vultures sitting on my doorstep tying bibs around their necks in preparation for the consumption of my rapidly decomposing sack of organs. Whatever. I can still turn my head far enough to find a weapon to fend them off with - I'm not done yet!

But, man this sucks. It sucks pretty hardcore. AND it doesn't help that Husband has taken to calling me "Crippy" or "Crippy McCripperson" today - talk about kicking a gal when she's down... don't worry he'll get his comeupance (yeah, not sure if that's a "dictionary" word or not, but I've heard it said many a time... mostly by my Granny... who has Alzheimers...whatever, it's a word in my book). I can be a scrapper when I need to be. And he has to sleep sometime.... MUAHAHA!

Speaking of being a scrapper, I have developed a HUGE infatuation with a contestant on Survivor: Micronesia over the past 24 hours (I watched pretty much the whole season yesterday while working from home). His name is Ozzy. I and wish I could be just like him (except still be me and a girl and everything).




Yeah, he's my hero. He swims like a fish and he rocks at the game. So, here's to you, Ozzy! WIN WIN WIN. And don't be an idiot. And I think you're cute... That's it. Love, Me

Sorry to all of you who aren't Survivor fans, that was a totally gratuitous shout out and I am thoroughly ashamed for being so TOTALLY into that show that it's deplorable. But, I still love it. You can't stop me.

In other news: I get the day off tomorrow. HOO.RAY. I pleaded with my manager to give me the day off on short notice and she had the goodwill and generosity of spirit to grant my wish (SUCKA!). So, I've got a serious date with a hot shower and a heating pad... hopefully I'll be coming at ya next time from a place where my head turns.

Frivolity is FUN!

I stopped by one of my favorite blogs this morning (Blogs Are Stupid) to see what the word was for the day and joyfully found that she had spent some time unwinding and sharing with her readers a list of her top 10 favorite frivolous things!

(Squeal of DELIGHT!)

I had read a similar post of hers before where she had shared some of her most loved beauty products and actually tried some of them for myself (with much success - in my estimation at least). So, I was thrilled to get yet another snapshot of her toiletries cabinet along with a few other wonderful things that just make her feel rad. So (you guessed it) I decided I would share with you 10 things in my life that, well damnit, they may be unnecessary but they just make me feel good!

Onward!

1. Hair: Frederic Fekkai Glossing Creme (AKA miracle stuff that smells awesome):

Sigh. This little bottle of olive oil concoction is the most wonderful tool for a gal with combination frizzy/curly/straight hair, like me. It transforms even the driest mess into a supple wave of movie star hair. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but not much, I swear! This is one of the suggestions I took from The Blog Antagonist's first post on the subject and I was beyond thrilled with the result. Sure, it's $19.50 for 7 ounces (yikes, I know) but I've had my bottle since Christmas and have barely used any (a little goes a LONG way with this stuff). One word of warning for my friends with thin or oily hair: This stuff will weigh you down a bit, so if you try it, take 'er easy.

2. Novel: Anything by Philippa Gregory

The Queen's Fool was the first of her books that I had the pleasure of reading, but she is most well known for The Other Boleyn Girl which was just made into a movie starring Natalie Portman and Scarlet Johansson. Her books are sweeping, big-time stories of lust, corruption and deceit in the world of old England. And for me, they are like crack. I love 'em. Kings and Queens and secret affairs all based in historically accurate landscapes. I actually have learned quite a bit about England's nobility from her stories without really realizing it, which is a pleasant bonus to an already pleasant situation. When it comes to books that have lots of sex, excitement and intrigue, Phillipa Gregory's are the best! Word of warning: If you decide to venture forth into the land of Phillipa Gregory and you happen to pick up Wideacre beware. It is the first book of a three novel series and it is not for the faint of heart. There's LOADS of people doing it, but it's not always pleasant to read... just a heads up.

3. DVD: The Golden Girls:

Now THIS is a TV show. Nevermind all the imitations out there (Sex and the City, I'm talking to YOU) these gals have it all! Four empowered older women sharing a house in Miami during the late eighties: PRICELESS. I crack up continuously - not even joking, I laugh until I cry almost every single time. Now, it could just be me, but every time I hear the theme song, I just feel glad. I feel happy to be just where I am at that very moment. Husband makes fun of me because I can seriously watch like, 6 hours straight of this show and not be bored. And, I can watch the whole series from front to back and start right over again at the beginning - I never get tired of it. I think part of my adoration for this show comes from memories of my Granny letting me watch it with her on Saturday nights when I'd sleep over (all of the jokes went sailing directly over my head, of course). She also claimed to be a dead ringer for Betty White - and regardless of whether or not it's true (which it's not) seeing Betty White never fails to make me smile. If it's been awhile since you checked them out, I highly recommend giving The Golden Girls another shot.

4. DVD: The Birdcage

Talk about pick-me-ups! This movie is totally 100% hilarious. I still cannot see Hank Azaria without thinking of him as Agador, the faithful houseman. And, come on! A movie with dialogue like this is just too incredibly funny to be ignored:



Albert: Don't give me that tone!

Armand: What tone?

Albert: That sarcastic contemptuous tone that means you know everything because you're a man, and I know nothing because I'm a woman.

Armand: You're not a woman.

Albert: Oh, you bastard!


Fantastic.



5. Make-Up: Cover Girl Lashblast Mascara:




I L-O-V-E this mascara. I've tried a lot of brands and have never had better results. This stuff makes my little poky lashes and makes them look long and flirty. Me Likee.

6. Perfume: Covet by, Sarah Jessica Parker

http://www.scentiments.com/ describes this favorite perfume of mine to be, "...a seductive blend of chocolate, magnolia and amber musks. And I love it. It's bright yet sexy and is perfect for wearing just about anywhere. It's definitely among my more casual everyday perfumes, but I seem to be using it with a dizzying frequency. It's delicious.

7. Blanket: Simply Shabby Chic Cozy Blanket

I have this blanket in the color Angel Food (which is fancy talk for white) and it is hands-down, by far the softest most cuddly blanket I have ever owned. It is actually so warm that Husband and I took it off of our bed because it is enough warmth all by itself and needs no assistance from our sheets or comforter. So, it has happily become my napping blanket. Honestly, I love naps. On weekends, if I have the good fortune to have some free time, I love going into my bedroom and snuggling up on top of our regular covers with this blanket. It is the snuggliest of the snuggly, and I could not possibly be more pleased with myself for registering for it. It's a keeper, and if you're in the market for a new blanket, these are sold at Target or just click here - trust me, it is well worth the money. :)

8. Lotion: Ginger Souffle from Origins








The smell of ginger is by far one of the warmest and most relaxing scents to me. So, it stands to reason that this indulgent body souffle is very high on top of my list of frivolous loves. It is creamy and delicious smelling and it makes your skin feel great. I use this one when I get the chance to have a long evening shower that is followed only by relaxing. Pair this with a glass of wine and I'm one hell of a happy camper. And speaking of wine...




9. Wine: La Crema Chardonnay






Chardonnay fans, hold onto your hats. This is a delicious wine with a buttery, creamy finish and a bouquet to blow your mind. Husband regularly picks up this brand for me (even though it's more expensive than what I normally buy) because he's the raddest of the rad and he knows how much I love it. If you're a wine fan, I suggest you pick this one up. I know nothing about wine other then what I like, so if you want other suggestions for its pairing or descriptions of its flavor, check this out. Otherwise, enjoy (responsibly)!



10. Lip Balm/Gloss: Smith's Rosebud Salve (no pic because blogger blows)




I first tried this when I read in a fashion magazine that supermodels use it - yeah, yeah I'm a sucker. If they jumped off a bridge I'd probably do that too - and was very relieved when I found it to be THE BEST lip balm/gloss I have ever used. It is an excellent moisturizer AND it is slick and shiny without being goopy (aka sticky). I also recently discovered that they make a mint version of this as well which is my new obsession. Love it. Love it.

Well, there you have it! Hopefully from a few of my favorite indulgences you can find one that makes you happy too! :)