1.30.2012

Pirates

What post could possibly go wrong when it is entitled "Pirates"? No post is the answer. Pirates are a fantastic blog topic.

After all the horrible things that happened with the cruise ship nearly Italy - which is super scary and very sad - a friend of mine has decided that she is anti-cruise. Which bums me. If you remember, a cruise is on my list. And Jeremiah doesn't want to go on a cruise, either. Especially after he saw the pictures of the cruise ship turned 90 degrees in the waters off of Italy. Bah. Jeremiah is NOT a water baby. And apparently he is not into current events because he did not even know about this until I told him. I should not have told him. Now he definitely will not go.

So my cruise won't be a romantic one.

And it probably won't be a girls' trip. None of my friends (including newly anti-cruise ship friend) have ever  mentioned cruisin' it up, so I'm guessing? No.
Poop.

So then while talking with my anti-cruise friend I became defiant about no one wanting to cruise with me. "I do not care. I may go on a cruise by myself." I said haughtily. My anti-cruise friend explained that people mysteriously disappear on cruises.

Hmmm... To be honest, this threw me. But only for a second, and not literally. My comeback was quick and I spoke triumphantly - "Okay, so I will NOT travel alone, after all. I will travel with at least one person and I will not trust that person with my life so I will call someone who is landlocked every single hour and let them know what is happening. That way, if I do not call, they know that something is wrong and they can alert the proper authorities. You know, in case Jeremiah pushes me overboard or something."


My friend countered with the fact that "There are REAL pirates, you know."

Well, crap.


"Let me tell you this, anti-cruise friend. If I ever come across a pirate that has hopped aboard the ship, he can have my money but first I will ask to see his parrot. And he better have an eye patch. And I should see signs of a peg leg. And he should be drunk. Then he can have my money. But not without those things. Those are my non-negotiables. No patch, peg, or parrot? No money."

Here is an example of a (partially) acceptable pirate:
I think the fact that Jeremiah is ACTUALLY blind in one eye gives a certain amount of authenticity to the photograph, don't you? 


My friend looks at me.

Shakes her head.

"Yeah...Emily? You're going to be the first one shot."

So in a way, I win!

...Right?

1.29.2012

Dear Neighbor,

Dear Neighbor,
I moved out of an apartment because I did not like listening to horrible music through a connecting wall. And yet, years later, here I am.

Listening to your shitty music. No wall connecting us. In fact, three walls separating us. So loud that I CAN HEAR THE WORDS, the booming bass, everything. For HOURS. On Sunday afternoon. A day of rest.

It is such a joy to have you next door. I especially love it when I am on vacation and spend my mornings exercising, listening to my music on the ipod and your music which I can hear OVER my ipod. Or when I try to enjoy the silence with a good book and some tea and I get to listen to your crap instead. That is awesome, too.

A couple questions I have for you:
1. Do you work?
2. Do you go to school?
3. Do your mom and dad know that you are an asshat?

I'm going to go out on a limb and answer  "no" to all of these.  Because you are always there. Because you are like a horrible Visa card. Everywhere I want to be.

Sincerely,
Your Ticked-Off Neighbor

p.s. We really like your dad, so he can stay, but we'd appreciate it if you would leave. Thanks.
p.p.s. I'm not against a blaring stereo for a song or two. Honestly, sometimes you just have to listen to something loudly. But now it is getting scary and my anger bubbles inside like the time I ate potato chips and burped sour cream and onion burps all night. This? This is seriously not good.

1.27.2012

FtVF - I will follow him.

Follow him wherever he may go.


Remember how I said that sometimes we are the winners in our relationship and sometimes we are the losers?

Poor Jeremiah. This is not really his day to shine. Or maybe it is not my day to shine. Something to ponder, I guess.

When people ask about when or whether we are going to have children (which, honestly is a whole other post and also? Unless you and I have braided each others' hair and had sleepovers, I'm thinking Dear Abby and Emily Post would not approve of you asking such a question. But I would probably answer you anyway because I am working on being nice.) I like to point out that we have FOUR pets. Three of which are extremely needy. As in, I don't remember the last time I've peed alone. Without a cat sitting in the sink watching or a dog begging to be pet. The other day Jeremiah had the day off and the dogs stayed downstairs with him while I showered and it was glorious. They are A LOT of work.

And you can tell me that I do not truly know what it is like to have a young child and all that work and you might be right.

But on the other hand, you probably do not know what pigeon looks like after a dog has barfed it up, and as of a few weeks ago, Jeremiah and I do.

So I guess at the same time we should both yell "You don't know me!". Then we are equal again.

Long story just to say that Jeremiah tolerates a lot.

One evening I caught Spike sitting behind Jeremiah while he was in the shower shaving.
My favorite part of this picture are twofold, actually. One, look how Spike adoringly stares at Jeremiah. Two, Jeremiah has underwear with dogs all over them and now tens of tens of people have seen them. Oh, p.s. That is not my shower. That is the shower that gives me claustrophobia.

This second picture is where we can all yell "Gnorm!". Or you can feel sorry for Jeremiah because I made him strap a gnome to his chest so I could take some pictures. It's like he is carrying around a tiny old baby. With facial hair. 
 
It says a lot about a man who is willing to wear a gnome for you.
That is really all I have today, friends. Here's to hoping Jeremiah isn't pissed that I showed you his panties.

1.25.2012

File This Under: Are You Freaking Kidding Me?

I can no longer check my blog before work because the word "peace" is blocked as a word categorized under "militant and extremist".

Bums me out for several reasons, but mostly because peace is seen as a militant and extremist word. I think we've met our idiot/overcensoringship (I might have made that up) quota for the day.

1.20.2012

FTVF - You Spin Me Right Round

Like a record, baby.

I come offering you a special gift. Not only is it From the Vault Friday, but it's going to be a two-fer. Because two is better than one sometimes. And also because I have two spin-y pictures.

First, I bring you the joys of hitting my head against the wall super hard - thank god I had on a helmet because otherwise I would have died. For sure. indoor skydiving.  I went with a group of friends several years ago. There is a place right outside of Phoenix where you can go do this. Or you can like, do the real thing. Except I can't. Because I would pee on everyone that was below me. And probably I'd poop myself, too. So indoors it was.

Oh, this is probably either right before/after I flew into the wall. The guy asked if I wanted to get out and I was like "Hells no! Nobody puts Baby in the corner!".
 I had so much fun but I sucked at it. Proof that I don't always have to win everything. Do you hear that Jeremiah? I don't ALWAYS have to win.

And then...

Are you ready?

Say it with me...

GNORM!!
I did not actually wash Gnorm. But he loved the space age look of this picture. 

So there you have it - TWo eighties references, a road trip, and a cheeky little gnome. Happy Friday everyone!

Any fun plans? Can anyone think of something that is better solo instead of two-fer-ed? Ooh, like OVEN FIRES, Jeremiah. No one wants two oven fires. Actually, I'm guessing most people would prefer zero oven fires...

I am going to finish painting my room this weekend. I almost ran out of paint so I hinted to Jeremiah that I was out of paint and I thought that meant he would drive to Lowe's and get me more but guess what? No. It does not mean that (as a friend of mine says, "You really do live in your own special world, don't you Emily?" I sure as hell do, people.). So I will be getting the paint this weekend.

1.19.2012

Um, You Want Me to Poop Where?

From Last Week:

A few of my students were talking about how cool it would be to go back in time. The following conversation is real. Because really? Who could make this stuff up?

Me: When?

Student 1: The Wild West.

Student 2: YEAH!

Me: pause You know, they didn't have toilets back then inside the houses.

Student 1 & Student 2 exchange awkward glances.


Student 1: In a hushed, horrified tone So if I had to poop?


Me: You'd go outside. Or in a bucket, maybe.


Student 2 wrinkles her nose. Student 1 looks more horrified, if it all possible. His eyes are now HUGE.

Student 2: Like, on the ground?


Me: Maybe the ground. Or in an outdoor toilet called an outhouse.

Student 1: I can't do that. I can't. I can pee outside, sure. But pooping OUTSIDE? No. Forget that.


And that, my friends, is the type of conversation that happens two minutes before the bell rings on a Friday.

Jealous?

1.13.2012

From the Vault Fridays - GNORM!

I know that there are some blogs that do "Wordless Wednesday" and post a picture. I get that. I dig the idea. But I realize that there are a lot of pictures pre-blog that you might have missed. Or outtakes that you missed. I know you are sad about that. So I'm starting "From the Vault Fridays", where I will post a variety of pictures that are ALL GNEW TO YOU.

Starting with Gnorm.

(Obviously these posts aren't going to be wordless.)

While visiting my parents a year and a half ago, I noticed my mom had a cute little gnome. The Travelocity gnome. She got him at Meijer's. (If you don't have Meijer's in your hood I am sorry. I don't have one here in AZ and it makes me said on a bi-weekly basis. Basically every time we go to the grocery store.) So we went to Meijer's and I found the gnome. Brought him to AZ. I then challenged myself to taking a daily picture for an entire month using the gnome. I was successful. I thought I'd share some of them on here. Because who doesn't feel cheery when they see a happy gnome?

I just decided to name him Gnorm because we are working our way through Cheers on Netflix. I didn't watch it much because I was just a kid (a small child, not a goat-baby) when it was on tv. Plus, what kid (again, small child) likes bars and beers? Anyway, I'm finding it humorous now and loving Coach. But I thought if I name the gnome Gnorm that you could yell "GNORM!" every time you see him on the computer screen. That might start conversations if other people are around you. Or they might just think you are crazy. Either way, good times.

This was after Zumba. Yes, I wore those socks. If you can't make exercising fun, why do it? Plus, let's be honest. I like the attention. I don't mind being weird. p.s. After I took this picture of myself & Gnorm I stepped on dog poop and then I went inside and told Jeremiah it was time for him to go rake the yard.

1.09.2012

Husbands, Wives, & Pee

Tuesday was my last day before returning to school. I thought I would celebrate my last day of vacation by getting my blood work done (I get this done every few months due to my disease). I stopped eating Monday evening (I had to fast, you know) and when I woke up bleary-eyed on Tuesday, I called the doctor's office to see if I could stop by to get the work done.

Apparently you are supposed to have an appointment. And apparently I did have an appointment. And apparently I missed it.

In my defense, I didn't get the reminder call that the secretary kept mentioning. Not once have I missed an appointment. Also, I didn't know I had to have an appointment just for the tests. I thought I could just walk in and get the work done.

Anyway, they said to hurry in and they could do it.

So I threw on some clean clothes and drove there. The nice thing about living in a huge city is that something, almost everything, usually ends up being close by to your dwelling. In this instance, the doctor's office was only a five minute drive.

When I got there and after they drained me of all my blood, the following conversation occurred:

Nurse: I'm going to need you to pee in the cup.
Me: Silence
Nurse: Here you go. Hands the cup to me.
Me: Um, I really don't have to go. I just woke up.
Nurse: How can you not have to go? You knew you'd need to do this test.
Me: I wouldn't have made it here without having a tinkle accident. I always pee first thing in the morning. I should mention that I tend to over-share. If you haven't realized it yet. I guess I could try. How much do you need?
Nurse: Grabs a cup of pee from her office. About this much.
Me: Holy crap. Giggling ensues. Is that someone's pee?
Nurse: Gives me an eye roll. I feel sorry for your husband.

Now at this point, I have to stop. Mostly because my head rotated around a full 360 and the scene in my head played out in a very ugly way.

First of all,who says that? To someone they don't know? I understand that she thought she was being funny, but you know what? No.

Yes, he does put up with a lot. Tears - happy ones, sad ones, tired ones, frustrated ones, I cry a bunch. I over-work. I over-share. I demand a lot. I can be immature. I can be a curmudgeon. He deals with my disease. He helps me through flare-ups and a variety of doctor visits.

But you know what? We chose each other. I have plenty of positive characteristics as well. And he has plenty of negative things with which I deal, along with all his positives (like dealing with the aforementioned negatives of mine). I think we are lucky to have each other. Neither of us is the winner. Or the loser. Or sometimes we're both.

I'm reminded of something Robin Williams says when he is remembering his wife in the movie Good Will Hunting. The things that he misses about her. "The little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. That's what made her my wife. Oh, and she had the goods on me, too, she knew all my little peccadillos. People call these things imperfections, but they're not, aw, that's the good stuff. And then we get to choose who we let in to our weird little worlds. You're not perfect, sport. And let me save you the suspense. This girl you met, she isn't perfect either. But the question is: whether or not you're perfect for each other. That's the whole deal." 

So me giggling at someone's pee doesn't in any way make me a bad "wife". In fact, if I didn't laugh at silly things, I wouldn't be the girl with which Jeremiah fell in love. And I start to feel sorry for her, because it's a sad life if you can't be silly in front of your husband/boyfriend/significant other. 

And as I think that this woman needs a lesson in tact and social skills and I'm ready to get in her face and say something highly inappropriate, I change my mind.

I have her fill the cup out for me, I take it, break it open (thereby rendering it useless), stand there pretending to think,  and say, "Nope. I guess I don't have to go."

I toss the pee cup in the trash and walk out.

They'll get my pee when I'm good and ready to share it.

And let's think before we open our mouths and insult strangers, shall we?

1.04.2012

Dear Student

Dear Student,
I will never forget that on the first day back from break, you brought me lots of chocolates. It might have been just the thing to keep that nervous breakdown at bay.
Sincerely,
Your Teacher

p.s. I am working on painting MY room (studio? craft room? office?) right now and it is looking delicious. I'm in love. Jeremiah is resigned to the fact that I might never go downstairs, what with my jacuzzi tub and my special room (that sounds sort of like it has padded walls and has a lock on the outside but it doesn't, I promise). I've also been painting the halls upstairs, which has made a huge difference. Notice that I used "I". Jeremiah is a painting grinch. Plus he's horrible at it. I don't know if I'm peeved that he doesn't help or happy that he isn't getting in the way. A girl just has so many emotions at once, you know?

Anyway, more details and pictures later. I hope everyone else transitioned back to work a bit more smoothly than I did. Rough. Seriously. There *might* have been tears (even though I have seriously awesome students).