Sunday, December 27, 2009

just one day at a time

I started my blog almost three years ago. I have friends I've had less time than that. 656 posts in less than three years. That's an average of over two hundred posts a year.

Boy, does that make me feel productive on a day where I feel like I haven't done much at all. I'm feeling a little down in the dumps after all the holiday hullaballoo, now that it's all over.

But my average hasn't been that great this last few months...

I feel like I've just abandoned ship in the middle of the night, tossing out a few random posts here and there like a bone to a starving dog. I wait until I feel guilty, and then throw something up onto the blog. It's like a friendship that I'm not making time for anymore. That's kinda sad.

It's been that way with everything. Scrapbooking, in fact any kind of crafting, computer anything other than my classes (which, by the way, I did not get straight A's in. 2 A's and a B, which was entirely my own fault.) Two more classes coming up next semester. I think I need to find a "fun" class to take over the summer. And maybe ASL in the fall. Who knows? So I haven't been completely slacking, but I haven't done much of anything creative, which makes me sad.

I just watched Julie and Julia tonight--for the third time--and I got all warm and fuzzy about my blog so I had to come back and post again. Have you seen that? I think it's one of my favorites. I particularly liked the song "A Bushel and a Peck" by Doris Day.

I had to look it up in the soundtrack (online), and then had to find it on youTube so I could get all the words to it. I LOVE the internet!

The only part of it I've ever heard is when my mother-in-law used to randomly sing the first part of it...♪♫♪I love you,♪♫ A bushel and a peck,♪♫ A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck...♪♫♪♫♪. But that's all the farther she would sing it.

Now, I've heard the whole thing. I love it. And I love Doris Day's singing. Have a listen:

I'll be back sooner than two weeks from now. :)

Sunday, December 13, 2009

coming up for air again...

whoop! gasp!

and she plunges down for one last marathon of studying.

One more final on Monday, and I'm done for this semester. Not bad for an old chicka...chicka wha-! (that was for you, Erica.)

It's been a mad whirl of tests and papers, all semester. Only six credits, but that's besides work. I know there are people who do more, but I'm pretty happy to have done just six. Now I'll get a break for a few weeks, and start again after the new year starts.

Not much excitement around here. Just work and school. Oh! Other than what happened this last week. It was the morning after it snowed. I heard the forecast, and I listened. The day before we got the snow, I brought my boots in out of the garage, which is where I store them over the summer. Well, where I USED to store them.

Morning hit, the alarm went off, I got up. I had my boots by the door, and I went to put them on to go start the car because there was too much snow on the ground to wear my Crocs.

The litte voice in my head said, as it does every year, "You should check those boots to make sure there is nothing in them." I have checked them EVERY year and there's never anything in there, so I finally cut myself some slack and decided to just put the boots on. I was tired.

Well the first inkling I had that this was a bad decision was when my foot hit something disgusting-feeling. Like crunchy and mooshy at the same time. Aaack! Aaack! Gross alert!

I pulled my foot out as fast as I could, and immediately stuck my hand in there to pull out whatever it was. I guess somewhere in my brain I magically thought it was just wood shavings or bird seed or something. Bad choice. Whatever it was in there, I sank my hand into it, got it under my fingernails and got a better feel of its unlovely crunchy mooshiness. I jerked my hand out and ran for the sink so I could wash my hands off, just trying to breathe. "Oh yuk, oh yuk, oh yuk!" I just kept swallowing so I wouldn't throw up.

After I dried off my hands, I tried to look in the boot, but I was so tired that my eyes couldn't focus in the darkness of the bottom of the boot. So I took it under the light and looked. I could barely make out the shape of a little mouse's head, but the body was kind of hollowed out. I saw some little bones and a couple of dried up maggots. Yukkk! Bleah!!

I was freaking out by this time. Ick! So I pulled the liner out of the boot to just wear the boots so I could go outside. The car was still waiting to be started, and time was passing by way too quickly. Mornings do that to me.

The little voice said, "You better look again." So I looked into the bottom of the boot before I leaped into it, and there was a HUGE sluggish spider crawling around in there. I am NOT a fan of bugs, LEAST of all those eight legged creepy crawlers. Even if my honey does say they are my friends. If they're my friends, why am I not happy to see them? Something is wrong there!

I lost it. I was screeching and practically crying, and my honey came flying out of the bedroom to see what in the world had happened to me. "What is the MATTER?" he says.

I couldn't do anything but whine like a two year old having a fit. "I just stuck my hand and my foot into a dead mooouu-uuuuse! Aaaaaaahhhhhh! And there's a spider in my boooo-ooot!"

I was dancing around in a frantic circle, waving my hands as I went. If I were him, I would have fallen down on the floor laughing, but he was kind enough to stay calm and just say, "Just wear my boots then."

I picked up the offending boots before I went out, and deposited them in the trash bin outside when I went by it. There was NO way I was going to deal with them. That is just no way to start a morning.