Little's Blog

Daniel and I got into an in-depth discussion tonight about what kind of blog our dog, The Little, would have.  Yeah, we're THAT kind of dog owners.  Dan says the blog would be called "The Little Things."  I suggested it would primarily be about living on a farm (her interpretation of our regular sized backyard), how much sleep is required for good health (she suggests 12-15 hours a day AT LEAST!), and musings about what could possibly be in the garbage can (she can't see what's in there 'cause there's a lid, but she is confident by the smell that it's delicious.)

She would also have witty stories about what it's like to live with two old men who don't want to play and recommendations about the best places in the house to sit, generally speaking any place that has been forbidden is a top spot for snoozing.

But ultimately she has decided not to bother, deeming it not lucrative without a book deal.  (Look for "The Little Things on a bookstore shelf near you in 2014, y'all!)

Sickly

For the last couple days I have been the kind of sick that is a total waste of sick days. Meaning I have been so incapacitated by illness that the 48 hours were a blur of laying very still in dark rooms (no relief from sleep), interrupted only by sudden unexpected trips to the bathroom. (sorry)

And while I am not this ill very often, when I am it throws my husband for a total loop. He is stressed out and lonely waiting for me to get better and not knowing quite want to do with himself.

Yesterday, while I was curled up in the bed, Dan crept very quietly into the bedroom. Moved slowly across the the carpet and peered over my blanket covered shoulder with a concerned look.

Then quietly, very quietly, he whispered, "Dubby? (my pet name, sometimes)...Dubby?"

".....what do you think I should eat?"

Enterprising Young Woman has a Question for Fayetteville's Finest

As part of my job, I sit very close to a police scanner. Most calls are boring, someone reporting a stray dog or the like. Some calls will change the scope of our news day and can be quite exciting, most recently a bank robbery.

But today's call falls into neither category. A woman called into Fayetteville dispatch asking for...legal guidance, maybe?

She explained she was a former stripper interested in, um, going into business for herself. She wondered (to dispatch) if she could give lap dances, for a charge, at her house provided she was not sleeping with her customer base. She further asked if to conduct this sort of business would require a special permit.

I never heard any follow up over the scanner from police but I have to say I appreciate that she was savvy enough to seek out professional advice before plunging into small business ownership.

Old People

I bought my husband a PS3 for his birthday.  A very awesome gift that goes beyond the boundaries of what I would normally spend on a present.  Especially since I have never owned a game system and the last one he has was a Sega Genesis.

And he loved it.

But after a few days of playing it, I asked him (fishing for praise about how lovely I am) how he liked it.

He said, "It's great, but I hate how close I have to sit to the television to play it. The cord that connects it to the console is so short I can't even sit on the couch, I have to sit on the floor to play."

With hands on my hips I agreed with him saying, "Man, you would think that with all the improvements they have made with video games, the controller it comes with could at least be wireless.  I mean, how hard is that!"

Fast forward to a few days later, he is at work talking to the kids that work at his store, complaining about the same problem.

One of them rolls their eyes and tells him, "Hey grandpa, the cord is just so you can charge the controller you don't have to leave it plugged in while you play."

Who knew?

Feelin' M*A*S*H*Y

There is a term, coined by my husband, that is used frequently in my house.

"that MASH feeling"

This refers to anything that gives you an overall feeling of mild disappointment or melancholy.  The origin of this phrase comes from how D felt during that certain moment of the late afternoon early evening when M*A*S*H would come on in reruns when he was a kid. 

Nothing else good is gonna happen today, there's nothing to do.  In his words "I was wanting to have some fun but now it's too late in the day to hope for that".

Now I did not meet my husband til we were in our 20 and grew up hundreds of miles away in a different state.  But the first time he explained this feeling to me I immediately knew what he was talking about as this theme song brought on the exact same feeling for me.

I guess some things are universal.

Reverse the Curse

If one (not me, as I am very responsible) had friends in town on a school night. And said person (not me) over-indulged on wine at dinner even though she knew she had to go to work early in the morning and woke up the next morning feeling not so great. Then that person should definitely take 2 Midol when she eats breakfast because now I feel great! ( I mean she feels great).

It's Just Not Appropriate

I had the naked dream last night. You know the one-you show up to your everyday life but you forgot to wear clothes.

In this particular one, I was in some sort of competition on stage (a spelling bee?). I was also vaguely aware of the fact that I was a counselor at summer camp.

I have these semi-regularly but always with one distinct difference from the textbook example.

I am ALWAYS in a towel, never naked.

I really appreciate that even in my subconscious, worst case scenario imaginings, my modesty and body shame creeps in to provide a modicum of decency. In terry cloth form.