Tag Archives: #leahwouldblog

A Limit Reached

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Today, I reached the maximum capacity for banana intake.

For a really long time, I would only eat, on average, one banana per YEAR.  I am a HUGE texture person when it comes to eating, and eating something that has the same texture as what I imagine shit would have does NOT sound appealing.  (My GAWD…it’s the similar shape of poo, too!!!  Also, you’re welcome for THAT visual. Ha!)

Still, I know that it’s a quite regular fruit to eat for most, and my once-a-year eating would only happen, surely, because my body was telling me that I needed potassium or else MY MUSCLES WOULD CRAMP INTO OBLIVION!!!!

But, for the past few weeks, I discovered that I WAS actually able to stand eating bananas again, just like I’m sure I did when I was a one year old with no choices but mushy food.  Plus, it was an easy breakfast to grab that has protein.  Win-win? 

Not this morning.

This morning would have been my third day in a row to eat a banana for breakfast this week.

I took my first bite….”Why does this taste….different?…”

I took my second bite….”No…it tastes the same, but………………….

 

the……………………….

 

texture…..”

**BLARGH!!!**

On my third bite, I began to literally gag on the banana!  (Go ahead….Insert innuendo/joke here….I know you want to!) ;P

I spit that fruit-crap back out and into the trash, then threw the remaining banana in with it!  Not only did I THROW the offending food into the trash, I fucking PITCHED it in there!!   Batter up, Trash can!!! 

So my threshold was reached.  It took a total of 8-10 bananas in three weeks, but at least now I know.

Maybe I’ll try bananas again….next year.

Dog & Cat–Short

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Sometimes, our dog, Coda, will purposefully look at our cat, Buddy, and then walk over to his toy rabbit***, proceeding to pick it up and shake it violently back and forth while growling, as if to say to the cat, “This is what I would do to you if I could!!!”.

***Used to be a toy rabbit–is now a stuff-less, furry, headless rag

Then Coda will flip the fluffy-tailed rag-toy into the air with utter glee, catch it, and fling it again! Occasionally, the small, pathetic thing (the toy, not the dog) will land atop of the television screen, completely out of reach for our stubby-legged pooch. 

As Coda stands there staring at his lost toy, yearning for it to return to him, this is the moment the cat smiles, and it is HIS turn to purposefully look at the dog, completely knowing that HE could retrieve Coda’s toy if he so desired.  But he does NOT desire this.  He finds joy in torturing the dog.

They love each other.

A Damning Dime

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A Memory:

When I was a young girl, probably around five or six years old, I was so very proud that I knew how to spell my name.  NOT ONLY could I spell it, but I could WRITE it as well as the best of ’em!!  I assume I probably wrote it on my coloring books, finger-painted it on my refrigerator masterpieces, and saw it up in LIGHTS in my mind……………………………………………….

We would go to church every week, and on one particular Sunday, my mother gave me a dime for when the offering basket passed by.  At that age, there were no problems in tossing dimes into baskets like coins into a wishing well.  It was like playing a miniature basketball game in the middle of church!  Slam dunk! Swish!

But until the basket came by, it was just me and my dime in the front pew.  I am quite sure that the pastor was talking about something quite interesting for the adults, but for a small child, it was not something that would be considered enthralling. 

I began daydreaming and considering my options.  The basket had yet to be passed, but I began to warm up on my dime-tossing.  Toss up, catch, toss up, catch….bored again.  What else is there to do?  All of the adult voices around me are just a bunch of blurbs streaming into my ears, not making any sense. 

Then genius struck!  Everyone needed to know how beautifully I could write my name.  They should know!  They should all be PROUD!!  I looked around for a few minutes..no one was paying attention.  Not yet…..and that is when I brought the lovely, ridged piece of metal to the finish on the pew.  The dime was JUST the right size for manipulating like a writing utensil.

**scratch, scratch**

“L”

**scratch, scratch**

“E…A..”

**scrape, scratch**

“H”

There!!! Perfect!! Everyone and their mothers would be so impressed with my magnificent ability to mark down these letters!!  Not only did I write my name, but I created a sculpture!  A piece of intricate art!  HOLY ART!!!!!

………………………………….I waited for someone to see it

……………………….it was beautiful!

…………….and such a creative use of a ten cent piece!

…….I continued to wait for someone to notice…

 

No one was impressed.

I entered the land of trouble.

Damn Dime.

How Am I Married?

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Sometimes, I am amazed at how ANYONE can put up with my peculiar self, let alone be MARRIED to me.

The other day, while driving and talking to Shannon on the phone, I saw a blimp in the sky.  Shannon then became the brunt of my somewhat one-sided phone conversation that went something like this (spoken at roughly 100mph):

Me: I’m pretty sure I see a blimp in the sky!!  Maybe it’s just a balloon.  You know how they use those big balloons for car dealerships?  Nah..no way! It’s too far up there!  That couldn’t be a regular balloon.  It’s GOT to be a blimp!

Shannon: Oh….?

Me: It IS! That’s a blimp!  It’s the MetLife blimp!  I wonder if they give people rides!  I want a blimp!  We could ride in a blimp and then skydive from it.  No…wait…it’s not high enough for sky diving….WE COULD BUNGEE JUMP!! Perfect!! Do you think they give bungee jump rides in blimps!?? Surely not the MetLife blimp.  That’s life insurance, right?  I doubt a life insurance company would endorse bungee jumping.

Shannon: What?

Me:  BUNGEE JUMPING!! I wonder what it costs to rent a blimp.  Think anyone rents them?  We should have a blimp party!  There can be lights and giant speakers and loud music.  A dance party in a blimp!!  Think it’s big enough?? They should definitely rent out blimps for dance parties!! I wonder how many people could fit in a blimp…A party blimp would certainly be bigger than a regular blimp.  It’d by like a party bus….that FLOATS!!

WHERE CAN WE RENT A FLOATING PARTY BLIMP???

Shannon: Uh…..

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Shannon and I recently discussed the fact that his suitcase is now missing a wheel…not long after, this text conversation happened:

Shannon: I just smelled my arm pits, and they stink.

Leah: Hahaha!  Why aren’t you wearing deodorant?

Shannon: I am.

Leah: Must’ve worn off.  It may be your suitcase wheel took it.  They ran off together. 

Shannon: LOL Yup

Leah: It’s better this way.  You may be stinky, but they’re happy now.

Shannon: Sacrifices

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Now is the moment that Shan realizes he could, at any second, become the victim of my blog.

A Morning Battle #leahwouldblog

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This morning, the bed won.

Hands down.

I was unable to escape from it in time to begin my day as I would have liked; its weapons were stronger than mine.

I was prepared, too!  I had every intention of waking up at 5:00am, gathering everything for my day, showering, and then going to yoga by 6:30am. 

Last night, I set two alarms–my regular alarm clock and the one on my phone.

My first mistake:  I started a movie last night before bed, and even though I’ve seen it countless times, I still stayed up to finish it.  Because I’M AN ADULT!  I can stay up and watch movies if I WANT to!!!!!  (Ha!  I’m learning that this statement becomes less and less true, the further into adulthood I climb.) 

The first alarm rang this morning; “Shot at the Night” by the Killers, along with the buzz of the vibrating phone, began to echo through my room and into my dreams, but not enough to bring me out of REM sleep-land.  Instead, my hand took on a life of its own and swiftly pressed the “snooze” option on the screen. 

Five minutes later, the alarm clock begins to wail.  My hand, again, comes to life, and apparently was on the bed’s side in this battle, because it (LESS THAN SMOOTHLY) slapped the alarm clock, forcing a snooze.  (I imagine at that moment that it looked warily around with invisible, slanted eyes before settling back under the covers.)

This happened at least five more times before my trusty (or hungry) cat, Buddy Van Bizzle Dizzle, decided to attempt a “rescue”.  As my phone began singing and buzzing AGAIN, Buddy quickly jumped to the nightstand and proceeded to plop himself down on top of the phone.  Now, when my hand roamed around, searching for the snooze option, it could not be found.  The phone was invisible to the sightless hand.  There was only a vibrating/singing cat.  I can only imagine the cat’s smug look on his furry face as he watched my hand flail about, tapping every other inch of the nightstand except for where he sat.  This lasted merely a minute.

When the hand finally figured out what was going on, he pushed the cat over and off of the iPhone. 

**POKE** (Snooze option on screen)

NOW…cue the alarm CLOCK!!  This time, there were no problems in snoozing further.  Even a cat of Buddy’s monstrosity could not cover an entire clock in time. 

Mr. Bizzle Dizzle had not quite given up, though. 

After the button was hit on the clock yet another time, the cat decided to use desperate measures.  He reared back…set his sights high, then LUNGED!!

I was awoken suddenly with a giant ball of fur wrapped around my head, with back claws digging into my neck and teeth scratching my scalp!  This lasted a full 2 seconds before the cat jumped back down and started licking my hand.  Obviously, he was hungry, and this was his way of threatening to eat my head if I didn’t get up and feed him NOW.

I looked at the clock.

“FUCK!  I need to get up! I’m late!!  Wait…what’s going on?”

The sheets had wrapped around me like a giant cotton python!  Amidst all the snooze-hand-flailing, I had been turning in my sleep so that now I was trapped in a coccoon of linens!  I began thrashing around as soon as I knew I was in danger of being trapped further.  A sense of sclaustrophobia and panic began to grip me.

AT that moment, BOTH alarms  began chiming and singing at the same time. 

“UGH!!”

**WRITHE!**

“WHY!!??? ….Aaaaarrrrrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!”

*SMACK*

*THWACK*

I escaped the bed, and the alarms had been silenced for good.  But I had already lost, for the bed kept me in its clutches long enough to make me late, for both yoga and work.

Until the next time, BED…..until next time….

 

 

Pumpkins. This Post has nothing to do with Actual Pumpkins. #leahwouldblog

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Three words: “Pumpkin Pecan Waffle”

These words may have saved my life as I know it.

I truly wish I could tell you that this was the heavenly breakfast I made on today’s crisp, fall morning.  I am fairly certain I COULD make it if I wanted to.  (And, I suppose after my husband reads this, he will suggest I prove that statement!)

But, NO.  This is the scent of the candle burning in our kitchen.  When I first spied the label to this olfactorious delight, I KNEW it would smell amazing.  (P.S. Olfactorious should be in the dictionary as, “a mix of the word ‘olfactory’ and ‘glorious’; also meaning to smell so fucking good that real words CANNOT express the magnificence.)

I found this candle when I was in the search for some lotion.  Not just any lotion, but one that smells the same as my Pumpkin Cupcake hand-soap, that was given to me by my Lovely, Angela, for my birthday.  Every time I wash my hands, I WANT TO EAT THEM!  So maybe the soap is turning me into a zombie.  Perhaps that’s really how “zombies” come about in the future!!  Everyone starts wearing lotion that smells and tastes like cupcakes, and PEOPLE’S SENSES OVERRIDE EVERYTHING.  All they want to do is eat cupcake-flavored humans!

Before I thought about the possibility of being eatin’ by “Cupcake Zombies”, I wanted the delicious-smelling lotion. 

ALAS!  They DO NOT MAKE LOTION in that scent!!!

“WHA__?!!!!!” **Mouth agape**

(I think Bath and Body Works secretly knows about the possibility of Cupcake Zombies.)

When the sales lady told me that what I was seeking did not exist, I…………….. maintained my composure.

Sure, in my head……

I began grabbing pumpkin cupcake hand soap dispensers and blasting them all over the shelves of lotion.

“You don’t make this scent in lotion!??? I’ll show you how to make the lotion SMELL LIKE FUCKING CUPCAKES!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

**Pumps/shoots soap onto every lotion shelf AND employee at lightning speed!**

 

 

(Pause…for effect.)

 

 

 

 

But really, outside my head….

I saw the candles, and before my inner self could take over, I grabbed one that had a pumpkin on it.

I read the label.

As I mentioned earlier, it was “Pumpkin Pecan Waffle”.

Slowly, I lifted the lid, and I brought my dose down to the wax.

The raging 2013 Pumpkin Soap Massacre of Bath and Body Works was successfully averted.

The world can now sleep soundly………until the cupcake zombies arrive, that is.

Quick Snippet.

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I am sitting at my desk, sipping coffee out of my new mustache mug with Arctic Monkeys playing on the radio in the background.  The sun is shining outside the windows at my back, and my phone tells me it is a lovely 73 degrees Fahrenheit just on the other side of those windows.  For just a moment, I close my eyes and imagine how the breeze outside would feel on my eyelashes.

 I switch my radio off, because the cacophony occurring with its airwaves mixed with numerous fingers tapping on the keyboards around me is grating my nerves.  

It’s Friday morning; I need more coffee.

Play Along! :) Or Whatever…

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I had no idea that people did blog nominations, but it sounds like it could be fun!  Jess from www.objessions.com nominated me, but I have to admit that I may not completely follow the rules here.  I am supposed to list 11 random facts about myself, answer the questions she gave me, and then come up with another 11 questions for other people I nominate.  I’ll do the first two, but since, so far, I am not familiar enough with my bloggers to nominate someone right away, I’m not going to do so.  HOWEVER, I will come up with 11 questions for anyone to answer in the comments section, and we’ll pretend I nominated those people!  Sound good?

(One other thing—this reminds me of those old emails that used to be forwarded all over the place!  Remember the ones with a billion questions that you’d answer and then send back to whoever sent it, and then you’d forward them on for the next person?   Until this nomination, I had forgotten those existed!!  I used to enjoy them….so we’ll see how much I enjoy this new version!)

11 Random Facts about me:

1. I love singing!  Anyone who knows me knows that fact. BUT, I remember listening to music as a young girl, and since my singing voice was a soft one, I couldn’t hear myself if I sang the melody with the song.  So, I would sing other notes around the melody that fit it.  THUS, I learned to sing harmonies at an early age, by accident, just so I could hear myself sing along.

2.  I have my dog cuddled up to me right now (Coda, the Schipperke), and my cat (Buddy Van Bizzle Dizzle)  taking a tongue-bath inside a laundry basket to the left of us.

3.  I hate it when the floor of the bathroom is wet.  I also don’t like when the mirror fogs up, so I always shower with the door open.

4.  When I was a child, I was completely obsessed with owning all of the “Littlest Pet Shop” play-sets.  Now, I can only remember the name of the first one I ever got.  It was a cat whose magnetic head chased a magnetic mouse.  The cat’s name was “Miles”.

5.  In kindergarten, I was homeschooled, but my mom accidentally taught me through third grade…all while in “kindergarten”.

6.  I could eat pizza or Tex-Mex any and every day of the week.

7.  I never knew the word “fuck” existed until I was 15-16 years old.

8.  I once visited our Capitol Building on a Sunday by train….and accidentally caused several policemen and fire-trucks to arrive that day…twice.  There may or may not be long, lost footage of me pounding a gavel where a judge would normally sit on a weekday.

9.  I am 30 years old, and still have never been gambling at a casino.  I don’t mind.

10.  My first horror movie that I ever watched was at a friend’s house.  It was “Scream”. I ended up eating an entire bag of peanut butter cups that night during the movie, and so I was miserable the rest of the night.  I still enjoy that corny flick.

11.  I have incredibly GIGANTIC big toes.

To answer Jess’s questions:

1. What was the last concert you went to?  Favorite concert?

           My last concert was Buzz Beachball last Friday.  My favorite concert was probably Beachball last year, though.

2. What is your favorite place in the United States that you have been to?

          So far, probably New York City.

3. What is your all-time favorite book? Movie?

          I am such a fickle person, and I have a hard time picking a favorite when there are SO MANY GREAT choices!  I do happen to enjoy most books by Dean Koontz.  I also adore the Lucky Santangelo series by Jackie Collins.  Fave movie?  Okay, Jess, you’re asking multiple questions per question…isn’t that like cheating???  I can’t pick a favorite movie.  Again too many choices.  The most recent movies I bought were “Far and Away” and the second, most recent “Star Trek” (I still have to finish that one, though.)

4. Share a picture…(wait…that’s not a question, Jess…that’s a DEMAND!) lol

5. How much time (on average) do you spend on the internet per day?..

          TOO MUCH….maybe…probably.

6. What is your favorite genre of food?

          Mexican

7. What has been your favorite birthday?  What did you do that made it so special?

          Last year, my 29th birthday, was amazing, because to celebrate, my dad took me on a road trip to Chicago. SO FUN!!!!

8. What is your favorite song RIGHT NOW?

          HONESTLY, my favorite song at the moment is an original done by @Rizzimyers called “Light in the Dark”  It is AMAZING!! If you’re reading this, STOP…and go check it out. :) Yes, that’s her Twitter handle, and yes, she’s also on Youtube.

9. Are you a morning person or a night owl?

         I’ve always been more of a night owl, but in the past year, I’ve forced myself to become more of a morning person..slightly.   Okay, I’m still grumpy in the mornings, but at least it’s not to the point of “DEATH SCOWL” like it used to be.

10. What is your biggest pet peeve?

          Unwarranted anger.

11. What’s your favorite post you’ve ever written?

         Ummmm……I love ALL MY POSTS the same!!!! ;)

NOW FOR YOUR QUESTIONS!!!!!

1. If you had a pet dragon, what would you name it?

2. If you had to lose a limb, which one would you choose?

3.  How tall are you; how tall do you WANT to be?

4. What is the craziest thing you’ve done/seen……..in the past month?

5. Which is better: Oreos or Chips Ahoy?

6.  When is the last time you swung on a swing-set?

7.  If a pan-handler has a hilarious sign that literally makes you laugh aloud, would you donate money to that person?

8.  What is one of your guilty pleasures?

9.  What is your favorite time of day…besides 5;00?

10.  If you could have ANY view out your bedroom window, what would it be?

11.  How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Okay! PHEW! Done.  Feel free to play along!  OR don’t!  I’m hoping to be entertained by your answers, but don’t worry!  My hopes aren’t raised super high…….just kinda….HI!

Saturday’s Dreaded Lists #leahwouldblog

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It has been a rough day for many people today, and in particular, two of my friends.  I debated on whether or not I should post a blog, because I thought that, perhaps, it could be deemed inappropriate.  I mean, how dare I find something to laugh about on a day full of sadness??  But then, it occurred to me—-wouldn’t a day that has so much gloom in it be the MOST IMPORTANT time to find a little laughter?  I say, YES.  And I hope that this elicits at least a small smile, even if today has been horrible.

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I remember, as a small child, thinking to myself, “I can’t wait to grow up, because then I won’t have so many chores!”  Ha! 

When I was around  7-8 years old, my mother began giving lists of chores to me and my siblings every Saturday morning (which had to be completed by noon, when she arrived back home from work), plus we had our regular weekly chores.  As an adult, I would probably look at these same lists and chuckle, because I would now know that the WHOLE array of tasks could probably be completed thoroughly in just an hour or so…at MOST. But as a child……..

I can somewhat recall some thoughts that went through my head as soon I read the dreaded list that had been posted on the refrigerator…and the continuing thoughts throughout those mornings……

-“What the Fudge???  How did I get put on LAUNDRY duty again!!!?? I HATE LAUNDRY!!!  I’ll skip it for now.”

-“I’m pretty sure my bathroom doesn’t really need to be cleaned.  Look at it!! I would definitely be willing to eat off that floor!  I mean…I would surely eat off a plate on a placemat on top of a table on that floor!  That orange stuff? Pffsh…I think my tile is just the color-changing kind.  It is FINE.  Here…if I shut the door, NO ONE will even know that I skipped that chore.”  (I would shut the door..stand there thinking about it for five minutes..re-open the door…..and then spray some old perfume in the air and re-shut the door.) ” THERE!  Now, I’m done.”  (Sorry, Mom.  I think I actually did that a few times.)

-“Clean my room?  I thought it WAS clean.”  (There would be some books on the floor…and stuffed animals…and probably a few My Little Pony horses…and at least 10-15 MORE stuffed animals.)  “Oh THAT stuff??  No problem!!”  (As I shoved them all into the corner of my room.)  “There’s the floor!! Perfect!!” (‘The floor’ when you’re a kid is merely a 5×5 foot square that is clear of debris.)

I’d pull a few toys back out…they would have an adventure for 20 minutes….or an hour, depending on which of them needed rescued…and whether or not the stuffed puppies were granted powers to fly.

Then, I’d see that a favorite Saturday cartoon was on, and I’d spend the entire 30 minutes watching the cartoon while “dusting” the family room.

-“Wait…Can I just use this wood polish on the glass parts of the table, too?  Well sure I can!!! Those streaks will blend out when enough people have put their hands on the table….right?…oh look! My favorite commercial!” (Dust rag is left on the table.)

Another hour has passed.

-“Dishes are stupid!  Why are we out of paper plates?  WHO ATE ALL OF MY FAVORITE CEREAL?? I wanted a third bowl of it!  Ewwwwwwwww DISHES are GROSS!!!”

-“Why can’t we have a normal vacuum?” (We had a Rainbow, which worked REALLY well, but consisted of two parts: The head on the hose that you pushed around the floor, and the motor with the tank of water that you dragged behind yourself.)  To vacuum the stairs required the skills of an acrobat.  “I hope this thing works on Legos……Aaaahhhh!! I dropped the vacuum’s motor and tank down the stairs!!!  Stop it! Someone stop it!!! LOOK OUT!!!!!”

When it came to laundry, a load consisted of ALL clothing that could be STUFFED into the washer. With a family of six, one can imagine how much the dirty hamper accrued in a week.  There were two types of loads.  The “white load” and the “everything else” loads.

-“Why the hell are there so many socks?? Who decided a ‘white load’ was legal!  There ARE NO MATCHES!!”  (I would stand and stare at the offensive load of laundry for 10 minutes before folding one item, and then I’d begin staring again, completely overwhelmed and deciding that it was more important that I find what “shapes” could be seen in the different, haphazardly placed clothing, as if it was a giant Rorschach test.) “Oh look!  A white elephant!  It’s holding a sock!”

After about 4-5 hours of working ‘diligently’, it would be time for my mother to return home from work.   I would hear the garage door opening, and at that moment, it was like I was injected with adrenaline! Suddenly, I was folding everything at lightning speed!!  Matching or not, those socks were being stuck together!  And by the time Mom walked through the door, I was “done” with my chores.

Today…Just Today… #leahwouldblog

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Today technically began at midnight, and so did my day….sort of. 

Last night, I went to bed around 11:00pm with full intentions of awaking at 4:30, going to the fitness room to jog intervals with Heather, and then to yoga.  Unfortunately, I awoke at about midnight.  Why? No clue. 

Then again around 1:30am.  AND AGAIN, I have no idea why. 

Then at 3:00am, I awoke to find the clock and see that I still had an hour and a half left to “sleep”. 

When 4:30 finally rolled around, I elected to just remain in bed, and it was THEN that I finally fell into deep sleep. 

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Needless to say (and yah, I’m saying it anyways), my brain is not at its optimal potential today.  I’m assuming this is why I tried to leave the house without shoes this morning. 

I began walking down the stairs to the garage, purse/lunch/backpack in tow, and just then did I realize that my feet were touching carpet, and I was not as tall as usual. (I wear heels every day.) 

Then, for a brief moment, I actually considered leaving, with that quick thought of, “Do I really NEED shoes at work anyways?”.  Of course, I can’t go to work barefoot, but my slow-for-the-day brain wanted to just walk out the door, because it didn’t want to admit that it forgot something so simple! 

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Luckily….I have coffee at work.  :)

A Lesson in Lunch #leahwouldblog

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On a normal workday, my lunch-break is spent in the fitness room.  Today, however, it was spent alone at Minsky’s, wolfing down a cheeseburger and chugging iced tea.  I suppose that’s a perk of having a foot that hurts too much to try to do cardio class.

Regrettable?  Maybe…

But it DID spur on a CHERISHED memory–the first time I ate alone during a lunch-break…

It was in the beginning of my entrance into the delightful necessary world of working full-time; I was 16 years old, and the second semester of the school year had ended.  I had been working as a teller at the Bank of Lee’s Summit since that previous December. 

Most days, I packed my lunch and ate it in the security of the bank’s kitchen.  The day finally came, however, that I decided I would be more “like an adult” and venture out to a restaurant for my lunch.  Since I hadn’t been driving very long, you see, I was not the most adventurous person when it came to driving unfamiliar places.  Plus, it was hot out that day, and my car at the time had no air conditioning.  But now I’m just making excuses for my past self…

So, I clocked out for lunch and strolled my on-a-mission butt to my hot-as-an-oven Honda, and set off to find a glorious plate of sustenance.  Of the many choices in the restaurant world, you KNOW I was going to only pick the most classy place in existence!!

FAZOLI’S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hey, I was 16…..LIKE I KNEW what CLASS was in the restaurant world!!!  I thought fast-food Italian was GENIUS…….  Plus, they offered unlimited buttery breadsticks!!!  And this was back in the day where they had people walking around with BASKETS FULL of those little salty treasures!!!  YOU COULD EAT TEN OF THEM WITHOUT JUDGEMENT!!!! 

I ordered a plate that included three of the restaurant’s specialties, a portion of this food being lasagna.  I triumphantly picked up my plastic fork, and immediately dug in to the saucy, meaty goodness.  As my fork carried the first bite to my famished mouth, gravity decided to play a joke on me, and PULLED the food off the fork, then thwarted it DIRECTLY at MY BOOBS!!! 

But pffffshhh……. did I panic?  …..

 

 

FUCK YES, I DID!!!!!  I was NOT ready for this adult situation!!!!!  To make matters worse, I was wearing a white dress!!  I immediately grabbed ALL the napkins on the table, and begin dipping them into my glass of ice-water, and then frantically patting away the red sauce that then adorned my breasticles.  The mark of the SCARLET SAUCE must be removed!!!!!!!

After a frantic five minutes, I didn’t see any trace of the sauce on my dress.  I breathed a sigh of relief…I had done it.  I won.  Gravity had NOTHIN’ on me!!  I finished my meal with no more haphazard bites, and with a smile on my face that said, “I have conquered my lunch…ALL of you people SHOULD be FULL of AWE and WONDER!”  (Okay, so no one even noticed my debacle, to my knowledge, but in the first moments of sauce-falling, I felt as if ALL eyes were on me.)

I returned to the bank for the remainder of my full-time, barely-above-minimum-wage job, continuing to grin like an idiot.  Victory was glittering in my eyes as I helped all my lobby customers with the utmost confidence!!!  For those next couple hours, all was right with the world…

until I went to the bathroom.

Here’s the thing about wiping off your boobs at a restaurant table instead of in the bathroom….from the vantage point of my face, I can’t see directly under my boob.  And THAT, my friends, is the EXACT place that some lasagna meat sauce had decided to hibernate.

Don’t wear white to work.  IF you do, DON’T eat Italian food from a plastic fork.  Lesson learned.

Fill up MY Boot-mug!! #leahwouldblog

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I am writing about cool, crisp H2O, and don’t like the first two sentences.  Immediately after writing them, and then holding down the backspace button, I find that I am SO THIRSTY for ice water. 

**Walks to kitchen for water**

**Attempts to pour water from Brita pitcher….lid falls off.**

**Cleans water off floor with paper towels, shoos away cat, slips on remaining water, lies there thinking about how thirst still clings to roof of mouth.**

(These things may or may not have occurred only in my imagination.)

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On a normal week-day at work, when sitting at my desk, I am a mere 20 steps or so away from the break room.  Within that room lies the source of happiness for my water bottle–the water cooler/dispenser.  Let’s call it Norma Jean.  A typical trip to the break-room for water goes as follows:

Stand up from chair in heels without falling.

Take two steps left, then two steps forward, then do the hokey poky….(Not really, but now I’m considering doing this tomorrow, just to see who will join me.)

Walk the aforementioned 20 or so steps to the break-room.

Turn myself around to walk back to desk and grab water bottle that was forgotten the first time. (a-HA! I KNEW the hokey poky was truly involved in this process somewhere!)

Walk the 20 or so steps to the break-room….again.

At this point, someone else has made their way to Norma Jean….with a mug that could probably hold your grandmother’s head in it(only if it was disconnected from the body…but that’s morbid…let’s say it’s just a giant boot capacity cup instead).

So someone is standing at the water-cooler with their giant head/boot-sized mug, and holding the button for the ice-cold water.  (Side note:  There IS a button for room temperature water, but who the hell actually WANTS to drink water that is room-temp??  Pretty sure I’ve NEVER heard someone say, “Oh MAN, I am SO parched!! I could TRULY go for a less-than-satisfying glass of tepidness!!”)  But I digress…

Stand there for at least 5 minutes.

Boot-mug is half full.

The person with the offending cup smiles sweetly at me and shrugs.

What can I do but shrug back and then stare at Norma Jean….WILLING IT TO MOVE THE WATER FASTER OUT OF ITS STUPID, SNEERING SPOUT!!!?

At this point, patience wears thin, and I look at the beverage refrigerator, where there is offered a thirst-quenching alternative: bottled water.  A quick glance up to the gargantuan mug still sucking water into itself confirms that I WILL be standing there awhile longer.

Take two steps to the left, open fridge, and peer at the contents…or lack thereof.  EVERY other day, there is bottled water in the refrigerator, but today, this is not the case.

As the door of the fridge swings slowly shut, the puzzled look on my face changes to a look of momentary glee when I see that the boot-mug is gone!!  My heart leaps for joy…but Is quickly thrown back down past my throat and into my gut as someone from the other entrance of the break-room, the doorway closer to the water dispenser, has entered and taken their place in front of it.

Discouraged, down-trodden, and above all, thirsty, I meander back to my desk. 

————————————————————-

This week, something happened to the dispenser.  It’s lines perhaps were re-routed…or maybe just the amount of water pressure was increased.  But NOW, when filling something with water, IT STREAMS OUT LIKE A ROCKET!!!!!  It takes everything in mE not to jump up and down with laughter while filling my water bottle IN FIVE SECONDS FLAT!

I’m pretty sure that EVERYONE else in the office also does this happy jig in their heads now when pressing down that cold-water button.

 

Just a Tidbit about TM #LeahWouldBlog

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Quite a few months ago, Heather emailed and asked me a “hypothetical” question.

“Do you think you would ever consider doing the Tough Mudder?”

Since I had no clue what she was talking about, I turned to Google for answers.  As I discovered what this obstacle-course was all about, my mind began to read only CHOICE words, such as “11-12 miles” and “Fire” and “You might fucking die!”.  (Okay, so that last one wasn’t actually written anywhere, but I SWEAR my brain read it at some point.)

At this point was when I replied to Heather with a tentative,

“Maybe.”

Of course, this “maybe” was actually leaning more towards a “No damn way, because I have a WILL TO LIVE!”

BUT THEN the “maybe” turned into a “Hey, we’re going to do the Tough Mudder because I’m giving it to you for your 30th birthday, Bitch!!”  Again, these words weren’t actually said, but they fit just as well.

I agreed to it.  What could 12 miles really hurt, right?  And the obstacles will just be like a miniature workout…right? Or, I could have had a period of time where I simply went insane.

The latter is likely true.

And so it was done–we were scheduled to run in the crazy non-race of obstacles with hundreds of other psychos on Saturday, September 21, 2013.

At that point, this date was still many months into the future, therefore, in my mind, it didn’t exist, because who knew!?  The world could end by then…we could have a zombie apocalypse upon us at that point!  Then, I wouldn’t have to crawl through mud, duck barbed wire, jump over fire, or into a pit of ice water.  Hmmmm….wait a second………..!!

————————————————————————————————————————————-

That Saturday finally came yesterday.  Obviously, there are hundreds of posts, blogs, videos, etc. talking about the course and all of its obstacles, so I feel to write about them all now would be redundant.  At this point, you’ve surely Googled the dang thing out of curiosity, just as I did.  So, you know about the climbing, dredging, swimming, running, sweating, falling, and camaraderie that goes along with the Tough Mudder.  It’s all true.  ALL OF IT!  (I’m just beyond thankful that my contacts survived it all!)

————————————————————————————————————————————–

Now, it’s Sunday.  My shoulders, neck, and back feel like the muscles are rubber bands that have been wound up tight beyond their capacity.  My feet feel like someone slammed them each with a sledgehammer.  Add on a bit of a sunburn and endless scrapes and cuts up and down my legs.

But, honestly, I’m not complaining.  I love it.  TOTALLY WORTH IT!  I would definitely do it again.

Happy day, Mister Sunday!!  You may be sore, but you’re sunny and smiling!!

Click Click Click #LeahWouldBlog

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Last night, I went out to dinner and drinks with Heather.  As usual, it was a fabulous time!  At some point in our random conversations, however, it came out that I have never seen the movie Predator.  Apparently this is considered tragic, and it was decided that I should watch it for our next “girls’ night”.  Something I did learn about the movie through our limited discussion of it was that the Predator makes some sort of clicky sound.  Heather ASSURED me that it was freaky, but to me, it just sounded funny.

“Clickly click click, look at me! I’m a mean, badass predator. Doopy doopy doooo. Ladeeedah!!!! Clicky clickly click!!!”  (This is the part where I imagine the Predator skipping through a field of daisies, singing to itself, and twirling around amongst the flowers.)

Then this morning, I come into work and begin my day as usual.  I am checking emails, when I see that Heather has sent me something.  The Subject says “Click click click”, and it being morning, it does not even DAWN on me what this is in regards to!  So, I open it.  And there it was!! A gigantic picture of the predator, and yes, it made me jump a little!!  Then laugh!  I still haven’t decided if that click will be freaky when I DO watch the movie, but the clicks did make me jump this morning. Ha ha!

Just Plain Weird #leahwouldramble

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Last night, I had the oddest dream.  I realize I probably say that about my dreams every time I write about them, but they do seem stranger with each one.   Now before you read this, keep in mind that it makes almost NO sense, and it’s pretty creepy.  Obviously, it seemed a lot scarier to me while having it, compared to after, and writing it down now will probably make it seem pretty disjointed. 

It begins with me taking a walk down a neighborhood road.   I was on my way to visit a friend at his house.  It was a friend from school (because, apparently I was in high school or something in this dream), and I have no idea who this person is in real life.  It’s not someone who exists that I know of, and I cannot even remember his name in the dream.  Everything seemed normal at this point.

 When I walk in to the small home, I notice that the place is a mess.  There is a baby in a high chair, eating something mushy that I can’t recognize, clothes all over the living room and kitchen, plus it’s extremely dark and dusty.  There is a woman sitting on the arm of the couch, in front of the baby, and she just looks at me, but says nothing.  I am assuming this was my “friend”’s mother.  Suddenly, HE is gone—the friend vanished while I wasn’t paying attention!  I am left with only this woman in front of the baby, and some other family members sitting on the couch amongst the garbage, staring straight ahead and not acknowledging me whatsoever.  I can already tell by her distant eyes that the mother was a TOTAL nut job, and I am talking PSYCHOTIC. 

I turn to leave, but the door won’t open.  Somehow, I have become locked in this house.  I glance around the small room, and that is when the real eeriness begins.  I begin to HEAR a crunching sound, when before everything had been COMPLETELY SILENT.  (I always find it odd that I can hear, smell, taste, and see colors in my dreams.  I’m not sure if that happens with everyone, but these are the dreams that feel so real!!)

I follow the sound, and it leads my eyes to the woman.  She is chewing on something hard, and it takes me a moment to realize that she has broken her own jaw with her bare hands, and is somehow chewing and eating it.  YES…eating herself—her own mouth!!!  I am FREAKED out now, and begin searching the house for a phone.  I have no cell phone!!  SOMEONE needs to call the police!  The rest of the house is small and just as dark and dirty as the living room I first walked into.  I find a phone, but it has no signal.  I feel an urgency to save the baby…it is the only part of the family that MIGHT be normal. 

When I sneak back through the living room timidly, even though I have been seemingly invisible this entire time, I see that the woman has a jaw intact again, BUT she has somehow stabbed her head with pencils, and isn’t even bleeding!!  She looks like “The Hellraiser”, but with No 2 pencils!!  (Now THIS visual, talking about it afterwards, could actually be deemed somewhat comical…but only AFTER the fact!  During dream mode, my heart was pounding.) 

 Scared senseless, I find my way out of the back door and onto the porch, where the neighborhood that USED to be there has transformed into a giant ravine with a bunch of bluffs.  There are no stairs off the porch, and the distance when I look straight down seems to be endless!  Not only THAT, but there’s a war raging…a battle that wasn’t happening when I walked into the house, but looked like it’d been going on for days!

 

Not just any battle…it was a fight between FOODS!  And these foods were not of normal size…they were as big as me!!  Giant potato peels were battling a bunch of almonds and soybeans!! They were shelling them, and coiling around them like snakes, dragging them off to who-knows-where!  Screams surrounded me, and I began to get dizzy….and then I FALL!!!!!!!

At that point, I awoke….and felt BEYOND confused.

I’m not crazy—I swear………..but my dreams ARE.