Remember when you were in college. At a fraternity party. And some poor girl was COMPLETELY drunk, and met up with some frat boy - and then they proceeded to make-out porn style on the dance floor. Him - groping her in all directions and putting his hands in places that are reserved for private use. Her - totally oblivious to the fact that people were watching and staring and forming pretty steadfast opinions about her worthiness in society.
Well during our recent trip to Asheville, my entire family had the chance to relive those memories. In a restaurant. With a couple that had to have been in their 50s. And most likely strung out on designer drugs of some sort.
Ahh . . . memories.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Out-smarted
I'm trying to copy and paste a post that our sister wrote in her blog this week - a letter to our unborn child (her niecephew - as she calls him/her). But apparently there is some sort of anti-plagerism smart-tool feature in my computer because it won't let me paste the text into my own blog. I can copy it. I can paste it in a word document. But I can't paste it here . . . . spooky.
So I guess you'll have to go here to read it.
So I guess you'll have to go here to read it.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Hospice Regatta
Yesterday, in the weather that topped out at 50 degrees, in the rain, Husband and I participated in a sailing regatta to help raise money for hospice care. Husband worked with an attending last year who has a boat on Lake Hartwell and races in the distance race each year with his 9-year-old daughter. This year, he invited us to come along. Husband did some legitamate sailing, while I was really there to serve as ballast (a boating term for dead-weight to keep the boat from tipping - an ideal job for pregnant women who happen to find themselves in this situation). It was cold, it was wet, and I spent about a quarter of the race down below with the 9-year-old listening Disney music.
We had a really good time (no sarcasm). Despite the weather, it was SO nice to be outdoors for a change and the view of all those boats on the water was spectacular. Plus, it was the first time in a long time that Husband and I got to spend some quality weekend time together. Some pictures for your enjoyment: 
First, Husband suiting up for the regatta (don't laugh, that's what all the true boatsmen were wearing!). Next, me trying to get a moment out of the wind. Then, two of our competitors catching a great wind. Last, the boats participating in the shorter course lined up for their start - and an idea of how gross the weather was.
Pest Control
Two stories:
1. I may, or may not, have accidentally washed a load of dishes in ant poison. Ok. I definitely did. We have been having a little problem with those teeny tiny ants coming up from the vents in the dishwasher. So against Husband's better judgement, I was keeping a small ant bait in the floor of the dishwasher between cycles, and then taking it out when I actually ran the dishwasher. Well it was only a matter of time. Today I ran the dishwasher WITH the ant bait still inside - and we're just not 100% sure that the baby would appreciate poison-soaked dishes. We ran the machine again with a mix of bleach and soap (sans poison) and we are now holding the dishes hostage in the machine until we can call the company on Monday to determine if the product is water soluble or what. On the plus side, the ants appear to be gone.
2. Our covered front stoop area outside of the front door has been disgusting for some time. Riddled with what looked like various dirt and scum and a few bugs. It needed a cleaning and today was a great day to do that. I made a bleach/soap mixture (I was all about disinfecting this weekend) and took to the house with a scrub brush and a high-powered hose. What ensued could only be imagined by Hitchcock himself. Spiders. From every conceivable crack and crevice. Big ones, colorful ones, itty bitty baby ones. Dozens and dozens of spiders. The dirt/scum must have been web material (do spiders have nests?) and bug carcasses were falling from the overhang ceiling each time I sprayed it. It was the most disgusting thing that had happened in our house since . . . well, since ants started living in the dishwasher. I have already called the pest control guy, and although I considered waiting until after Halloween, (what could be cooler than a REAL spider-infested stoop?) I am making an appointment for this week.
1. I may, or may not, have accidentally washed a load of dishes in ant poison. Ok. I definitely did. We have been having a little problem with those teeny tiny ants coming up from the vents in the dishwasher. So against Husband's better judgement, I was keeping a small ant bait in the floor of the dishwasher between cycles, and then taking it out when I actually ran the dishwasher. Well it was only a matter of time. Today I ran the dishwasher WITH the ant bait still inside - and we're just not 100% sure that the baby would appreciate poison-soaked dishes. We ran the machine again with a mix of bleach and soap (sans poison) and we are now holding the dishes hostage in the machine until we can call the company on Monday to determine if the product is water soluble or what. On the plus side, the ants appear to be gone.
2. Our covered front stoop area outside of the front door has been disgusting for some time. Riddled with what looked like various dirt and scum and a few bugs. It needed a cleaning and today was a great day to do that. I made a bleach/soap mixture (I was all about disinfecting this weekend) and took to the house with a scrub brush and a high-powered hose. What ensued could only be imagined by Hitchcock himself. Spiders. From every conceivable crack and crevice. Big ones, colorful ones, itty bitty baby ones. Dozens and dozens of spiders. The dirt/scum must have been web material (do spiders have nests?) and bug carcasses were falling from the overhang ceiling each time I sprayed it. It was the most disgusting thing that had happened in our house since . . . well, since ants started living in the dishwasher. I have already called the pest control guy, and although I considered waiting until after Halloween, (what could be cooler than a REAL spider-infested stoop?) I am making an appointment for this week.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
My not-so-near-death experience
I had to go to the PartyCity today to pick up baby-themed plates and napkins for a baby shower at work tomorrow. I go get in line and a man is standing (skulking?) near the register as if he is maybe or maybe not in line as well. He's probably in his 30s, not-so-well-dressed, certainly not the typical party-decor-shopper. He sees me and says something that sounds like "garragraragrumba" - and from his gestures I can tell the mumbling meant "you go ahead and get in front of me." So I did.
He mumbled something else and I turned around and said "Pardon me?" because I honestly didn't have a clue what he was saying. He repeated himself (equally incomprehensibly) and so I did the thing where you smile and nod and pretend you clearly understood what the scary man at the PartyCity said.
Around this time, I realize that the man has nothing in his hands. No halloween decorations, no faux flowers, no party supplies whatsoever. What he does have is a shifty hand in his pocket which seems to be fumbling for something.
Paranoia ON.
Clearly, the only possible situation here is that this man is about to rob the Party City with the gun that is most definitely in his pocket and I am going to have a near-death experience over a couple of paper plates and a package of napkins.
He continues to mumble.
I continue to smile and nod and start to rub my belly so that he knows I'm pregnant and that a crime against me would actually count TWICE.
The woman in front of me leaves, I'm up to the register, he leans in behind me (ohmygod, ohmygod), takes his hand out of his pocket, slides a single dollar bill to the sales clerk (His demands perhaps? I can't read it!), mumbles something again, and then walks out the door.
The cashier picks up the dollar, reads it, and then starts laughing. HE GAVE HER HIS PHONE NUMBER. Here I am planning my escape from the inevitable PartyCity hostage situation and he is trying to GET A DATE.
On my way out of the store, he is standing by his car smiling. He shouts over to me (oh sure, NOW he can speak clearly!) "What did she think?" I respond, "I think she likes you." (And by the way you scared me so bad I almost peed my new maternity pants!)
Clean up at register 4.
He mumbled something else and I turned around and said "Pardon me?" because I honestly didn't have a clue what he was saying. He repeated himself (equally incomprehensibly) and so I did the thing where you smile and nod and pretend you clearly understood what the scary man at the PartyCity said.
Around this time, I realize that the man has nothing in his hands. No halloween decorations, no faux flowers, no party supplies whatsoever. What he does have is a shifty hand in his pocket which seems to be fumbling for something.
Paranoia ON.
Clearly, the only possible situation here is that this man is about to rob the Party City with the gun that is most definitely in his pocket and I am going to have a near-death experience over a couple of paper plates and a package of napkins.
He continues to mumble.
I continue to smile and nod and start to rub my belly so that he knows I'm pregnant and that a crime against me would actually count TWICE.
The woman in front of me leaves, I'm up to the register, he leans in behind me (ohmygod, ohmygod), takes his hand out of his pocket, slides a single dollar bill to the sales clerk (His demands perhaps? I can't read it!), mumbles something again, and then walks out the door.
The cashier picks up the dollar, reads it, and then starts laughing. HE GAVE HER HIS PHONE NUMBER. Here I am planning my escape from the inevitable PartyCity hostage situation and he is trying to GET A DATE.
On my way out of the store, he is standing by his car smiling. He shouts over to me (oh sure, NOW he can speak clearly!) "What did she think?" I respond, "I think she likes you." (And by the way you scared me so bad I almost peed my new maternity pants!)
Clean up at register 4.
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