DLand - What Month Is It? July?!

I felt like Charlton Heston this afternoon, expecting to see the top of the Statue of Liberty somewhere in the Chesapeake Bay. This is obviously not planet earth I'm standing on or at least not in the 21st century. Because on Earth, it's not 85 degrees F at the end of October! And on my home planet, they don't put up Christmas trees in the mall parking lots in October. Perhaps this wave of patriotism has put everyone in the holiday spirit. But I just find it really unnatural to look at a 30 foot tall electric green Christmas tree from my car when my air conditioning is on. Been in a slight funk lately, so this entry may be funkadelic. Can't explain the funk other than my house smells like dog and I haven't made a groomer appointment for them yet. It's nice enough outside, I could probably wash them myselves but I've grown to like taking them away dirty and picking them up clean. The groomer ladies love our dogs anyways. I think they would be hurt if they couldn't wash them every few weeks.

This funk may also be from feeling antsy about stuff. I just want it to be tomorrow so that the day after that would hurry up and get here. So that I can spend that day waiting for the day after that. Not really sure what I'm waiting for. Maybe the day we find a dream house. Maybe the day we've saved up the money to buy the big beautiful truck of our dreams. Maybe the day when I come home and my house doesn't smell like dog. I'll let y'all know when I get there.

Bossman had never heard of stretch pants. You know, those knit pants with the stirrups on the bottoms? Now, granted, they're not the latest fashion trend and I usually only wear the one pair I own on days when I wake up and seriously consider wearing sweatpants to work. I find these stretch pants a suitable substitute. But he had never heard of them. His excuse was that guys don't wear them, ergo, they have no reason to know what they are. I said most guys don't wear bras and they've certainly heard of those but he discounted that as faulty logic. Bah. What did you and your boss talk about this morning?

Other than that, it's been a hum drum day at the daily grind. I'm hoping to get some laundry done (to renew Sweetpea's faith in the Undie Fairy) and clean the kitchen. Maybe I'll clean my way out of this funk.

Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me

My brother once lamented to me that he was going to work so that he could rest up for the stuff he did on the weekends. I'm ready for a relaxing week of sitting in front of a computer compared to how this weekend went. Yesterday we helped move my father-in-law into his apartment. He's only about two miles from the house (his former residence) and has a pretty nice pad. The move would not have been as bad had the emotional turmoil not been as intense as well. But he's doing okay for now and things look for the better. His outpatient program involves meetings every weeknight (with a breath test at the beginning of each) and a lot of structure. It's only been a week, but so far, so good. With hope, he will get better soon and be able to go home.

Well, the afternoon was supposed to be spent at Hallow-Scream at Busch Gardens. They dress the park up all spooky in October and it's pretty fun. Well, we couldn't get anywhere near the entrance. By 2:30 the park was completely full and they were turning people away from the parking lots. I've never seen it that full in my life. The woman at the front gate couldn't understand it, but then we find out that they had opened the park up to all police, rescue, and fire fighters as well as active duty military and their families for free. How far is Williamsburg from Naval bases? I just can't imagine why it would be so packed.

Well, we punted and went back to Jeremy's mom's house. We made dinner there (shrimp and chicken in garlic sauce over fettucine - yum) and I drove home. We got home around 9pm but it felt like midnight.

Ironically, Sweetpea was just talking about how I act differently depending on my blood sugar levels (the diabetes and all). Well, when I walked in the house I realized I had blood sugar that was really low. Like sit down before I fall down low. Like I can't get the top off the milk carton can you help me Sweetie low. So much like a wolf I crammed as much food as I possibly could in my stomach as quickly as possible. I think I ate four bowls of Lucky Charms in under 10 minutes. I thought I was going to die. I just sat on the sofa and moaned. Marshmallow overdose! I managed to roll myself to bed and only realized this morning that I did that by undressing as I went from the sofa to the bed. My pants were on the chair and my socks were in the hall. It was a mess.

This morning I headed off to my parents to diagnose what was wrong with Mom's computer. Apparently, rebooting last night had fixed it, though, so my services were not needed. I chatted for a bit and was about to go when Dad asked for help setting up the his pressure washer. It was supposed to take ten minutes but you know how that stuff goes. I am now a pressure washer expert. Our family is the proud owner of a 3500 psi pressure washer with detergent attachments and pressure regulators. And amazingly Dad only found two things on the washer that need re-engineering. I couldn't convince him to leave the detergent hose alone but we both agree that it needs a stop valve to keep you from starting it without the water hose running. So I left my father in the back yard grinning like a kid and spraying anything with dirt on it to test out the new washer. It only took an hour to set up, but it was cool to play with.

Lunch was at Bossman's for barbequed chicken and too much candy. I again ate like it would be my last meal and have the tummy to prove it. I don't think I will eat again until Wednesday. The slightest whiff of food just turns me off. We also goobed about Mrs. Bossman's embroidery machine. I need me one of those. Must remember to ask Theo about hers and what kind of stuff it does. Tried to convince Bossman to buy one for the company as a marketing tool but I don't think he bought it. Ah well, it was worth a try.

After our little party it was a whirlwind trip by the Sunglass Hut for Jeremy to check into getting his really expensive sunglasses repaired. Oh and to buy an automatic card shuffler (don't forget to read the previous entry today). The dorky guy at the gaming store told me about ten times what a beautiful name I have and said I had good taste in comics. I smiled and thanked him for pronouncing Genevieve correctly. Oh and I bought you a toy, Colin. It has Captain America on it - duh - and it was on sale for $1.

Now it's home and I feel like a big slug. We have barely been home this weekend and I'm looking forward to just sitting here staring at the walls and resting for a bit. Overall, a good weekend, but I'm just pooped. My mother sings a little tune that goes "Lucky, lucky, lucky me. I'm a lucky son-of-a-gun. I work eight hours, I sleep eight hours, that leaves eight hours for fun!" I'm all funned out right now.

DLand - Baby, I'm Miss Tropicana - Your Minute Maid

Jeremy: (hunting for C batteries to rob and put in our new card shuffler) "I don't think we have any C's. We don't have anything with C's in them." Me: "My shirt?"

Jeremy: (looking through boxes and bookcases) "Uh huh, we don't have anything with four C's in them."

Me: "Oh, now you're getting kinky."

So at Capt. Colin's suggestion I've decided to tell you all the orange juice story. It's from a while ago but it came up at Crusades as well.

Now, let's go back to about 1996. Sweetpea and I are not even married yet, but living in sin in our cozy little apartment in Blacksburg. We owned (and still do) this vintage queen size waterbed. Jeremy acquired it from a man by the name of Pushkar in trade for driving fence posts at his farm.

Well the waterbed, being the retro style that it is, has those neat little cabinets and shelves and cubbies. Handy little things. We use them to store our books and earrings and glasses etc. Well, I had decided that I wanted to drink on some O.J. before hitting the hay. I brought a 10 oz. glass of homestyle orange juice (the extra pulpy stuff) to bed with me and set it in said aforementioned cubbie. Well, I start reading and talking to Sweetpea and forget about this orange juice. This, dear readers, is the one piece of the story that is my fault. Cherish it, because it's only this one thing.

Well, we go to bed and suddenly about 3am I wake up cold, wet, sticky and very grumpy. You see, my love, has a habit of being an active sleeper. So he will open the cabinets in the night and shove his arms in the cubbies. Well, this night in his tossing and turning he ran his hand along the head of the bed, into my cubbie, and behind the 10 oz. of cold, extra pulpy orange juice that perched above my head. You can see it coming. The orange juice glass tipped over and dumped all of its contents onto me while I was peacefully sleeping below it. I went from asleep to fist-swinging awake in under two seconds.

Now, fellas, this is not a turn on. Don't think you can use this like whipped cream or chocolate and lick the orange juice off your mate. Because she's just gonna be pissed. Sweetpea was still fast asleep until he was awakened to the tune of "Son of a bitch!" and me leaping out of bed. Did I mention that I had kinda longer hair then and was completely naked in the bed? So I was coated in orange juice. And my pillow was full of it. And my favorite blanket was covered. Sweetpeas side of the bed? Bone dry. We even had these nice Ralph Lauren polished cotton sheets so the orange juice pooled at about the small of my back and my ass instead of soaking into the sheets. I could have drowned had I tried.

Well, all the sheets had to come off the bed. And the pillows and the comforters. It's 3 am folks. Genie's very very cranky. Oh, and there's orange pulp in my hair. It's shower time. The whole time, Jeremy's just looking at me not really sure what to say. Any peep out of him was going to spur my wrath at being soaked in breakfast beverages. So he just sat in the chair in the bedroom in his underwear and perfectly pristine blanket while I stomped around the house. By the time I was out of the shower, I was laughing about it. But we still tease that his idea of foreplay is throwing juice on me.