Promotional Coupon

If you ask me, there is something hilariously wrong with this picture... and I'm not going to tell you what it is.

Click to enlarge... I think

My parents are out of town, so I am taking care of balancing out the register and making the deposits at the restaurant for them while they are gone. Today, someone filled out one of our promotional coupons and returned it to us.


It was the highlight of my day. I've always wanted to have something original to submit to Fail Blog!


I hope you'll find it as funny as I did. It took David a minute, so don't feel bad if you don't see it at first. (Or, if you do see it immediately, let me know so I can make David feel bad. JUST KIDDING!)

How I foiled a robbery... maybe...

If you ask me, either someone just tried to rob me or I watch too much TV. Okay, it's possible both are true. The second part is definitely true. The first part might be.

I was sitting in my office this afternoon when a younger guy, maybe 25, walked in. He was carrying a McDonald's cup and asked me if I could throw it away for him. I said "Sure" and set it on my desk. He then sat down in the chair in front of my desk and began telling me his life story. First, he said he was looking for work repairing computers "or whatever" and asked if I needed anything done. I explained that we had an IT department in the company that took care of that. (I left out the part where I am sort of in the IT department.) He then asked about out home computer and I said everything was fine.

Next, he looked dejected and said he was just trying to get some extra gas money because his wife had fallen and hurt her hip and he needed to go visit her because she meant everything to him. I said I was sure she did and I was very sorry to hear about her accident, but that I never carry any cash, so I couldn't help him.

Then he commented on the "two screens" on my desk and asked if they "ran together". I said I didn't have them set up that way right now but, yes, I can make them do that. He then said "You must be a computer genius too". Too? Oh, now I understand... when he called my dual monitors "two screens" and the seamless feature "running together", he didn't yet realize I was a fellow computer genius. He was obviously speaking to me in layman's terms. (After establishing our mutual geniusness, I wish I would have thought to ask him if he had any experience with creating documents on SQL-backed software because I wouldn't mind some help with the coding project I have to do.)

Finally, I crossed my fingers under my desk and let him know that if anyone mentioned needing computer work, I would send them to Computer Works give them his number, he left.

I then called the local police department to report the suspicious activity and give a full description of the suspect. (Okay, fine, I didn't call the PD. I called David's cell phone. That still counts.)

Maybe the guy really is down on his luck. Maybe he really is a computer genius. (Maybe I'm the Tooth Fairy. Hint: I'm not.) If so, I wish him all the best. But, after having a police officer father, a police officer husband and having logged countless hours of every real and scripted police program in existence, something tells me Bill Gates, Jr. mostly just wanted me to throw away his McD's cup so he could get me away from my desk and, you know, get a piece of gum out of my purse. When that plan failed, his back up plan was obviously to bore me to death and then take what he wanted after I slumped over lifelessly in my chair. I mean, it's not hard to not see that mine is the only car in the parking lot. It wouldn't take an actual genius to assume I might be a good target for distracting and grabbing a purse or other belongings. Sorry dude, I'm a little too street smart (okay, paranoid and over-TV'd) to fall for that. Not to mention I'm currently carrying my vintage Michael Kors "Ranger" handbag (well, it's not exactly vintage, but it's last season, so that counts)... I can assure you I'm not letting it out of my sight. Well, unless he really could code the documents for me. In that case, I might hand it over willingly.

Maybe now I can have sweet dreams...

If you ask me, carpet is probably the worst invention ever. Okay, maybe not ever... I'm sure there are other inventions the world could do without, like nuclear weapons or the Speedo. On my personal list, carpet is WAY up there. I hate it. I always knew I hated it, but I didn't realize just how much until I had my own house and had to take care of my own carpet.

We bought a "spec" house. It was new construction but was already 95% finished when we looked at it so we didn't get to choose any of the details. At the time, we were about to get married and we didn't want to "go overboard" with too many grown up things all at once. So, we bought the least expensive of the houses we saw. Looking back, we could have added about $20 a month to our payment and had a substantially different house. At the time though, it seemed like every saved dollar was critical. And don't get me wrong, there are a lot of good features in my house. Like any house, as you live in it, you notice all the things that should have been done differently. Over the last 5 years, we've done a few upgrades, repainted just about everything and gotten rid of the carpet in the living room. The carpet the builder chose was horrific. It was a Berber... a very, very cheap Berber. The first time we shampooed the living room, the seam ripped up. Nice. Then, no matter what we did, we could never keep the carpet looking nice. Then there was an incident where a candle melted through the side and red wax soaked the carpet. That was the final straw. (It really was an accident, but if I had known that was all it would take to convince David to rid the room of the carpet, I probably would have done it on purpose!) So, we replaced it with laminate wood. MUCH better!!

Our bedroom carpet went downhill as rapidly as the living room, but we couldn't afford to replace both. Plus, since no one but us really goes in the master bedroom, it wasn't a high priority. Of course, over the years it has gone from bad to worse. Well, terrible to catastrophic, actually. Then, as you might remember from last week, I sort of let the bedroom get messy. We finally got that situation under control so we could lay the new flooring that my parents graciously bought for us a few months ago.

Friday night, David was going to pull up the carpet. I was going to leave in an effort not to die. (Oh, did I mention that I have asthma? Yeah, I'm sure the nasty carpet is really helpful in my asthma-controlling efforts.)

Before I left, I had a few words to say to the carpet that has dutifully covered our bedroom floor for 5+ years...

After the carpet was removed, David and Big Al put down the underlay. At this point, I decided it was safe to return to the house. I was glad to see Bruiser had been keeping an eye on the situation while I was gone. Nothing in our home gets Bruiser's stamp of approval until he has rolled around on it.

With Bruiser's blessing, the work commenced Saturday morning. He and I gave it a shot...
... but decided it was better left to David and Big Al.

By Saturday afternoon, the floor was down and looking fabulous. At that point, I begun painting the baseboards and the newly installed quarter round. Well, I guess I really only had to paint the quarter round, but the paint didn't match perfectly and the baseboards were pretty scuffed up anyway. A fresh coat of paint goes a long way!

While we were at it, David repainted the ceiling and we touched up several spots on the walls. (You're probably thinking that we should have done the ceiling and wall painting before putting down the new floors, right? You'd probably be right. Try telling David that.)

Knowing how we sometimes don't complete projects in a timely manner, we decided we better go ahead and get everything back in the room, hung up, etc. before we called it a night. Otherwise, it might be another 5 years. After all, we've procrastinated doing much with this room for the 5 previous years. I've painted once (kept the same color for this renovation) and I've changed out the bedding approximately 4,500 times, but we've never really decorated the room. I bought some prints about 3 years ago when I first painted the room brown to go with my first blue comforter but had never gotten them hung. (I like to think I was one of the pioneers with the brown and blue theme. Of course, now that I finally get the room done, everyone has brown and blue and it's probably on the way out of style. Oh well. It's staying in my room for the foreseeable future!) So, around 2Am Sunday, we got the last of the furniture moved back in and the pictures hung.

Here are a couple of pictures of the finished product. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Of course, I nitpick everything and don't like the color of my dresser anymore... but I'm not buying a new one, so it will be fine! Otherwise, I like it a lot. It feels so nice to walk in and have it clean and calm!! Maybe we'll start sleeping better at night. I know I'll be breathing better without the uber gross carpet!

Also, a couple of years ago at Christmas, David had a star named after me. I think it is a super cool gift. I finally got the certificate framed and included it in the room.All in all, not a relaxing weekend spent outside in the wonderfully cool weather, but a very productive, extremely well-needed weekend of home improvement. Now, the task of putting the rest of the house back in order begins. Working in one room somehow made all the other rooms in the house look like tornado hit. This has, however, motivated me to build on the momentum from this project and get rid of a ton more junk and then move on to the work we want to do in our kitchen. I better strike while the iron is hot... no more waiting 5 years between projects!

Grandma Carolyn's plate

If you ask me, the best thing about cleaning out a room is finding something you thought you'd lost forever!

The picture above is of a plate my grandmother gave me a couple of years before she passed away.

I had begun collecting Depression glass and carnival glass in college. When David and I got married, his family gave me a collection of amethyst carnival glass. It is beautiful - I should have taken some pictures of the collection. When my grandmother saw it, she said she had a plate that would match and she would like me to have it. She then told me that it had been in our family for over 100 years. Her great-grandmother Kruse brought it with her when she and her husband immigrated to the US from Germany. I believe she said it was a farewell present.

It did match my collection pretty closely. I knew it wasn't true "carnival" glass. It was heavier and the finish was slightly different. But it was beautiful. Not even to mention how special it was to have a true family heirloom. (It actually is much more of an amethyst color than it looks in these pictures.)

I did, however, wonder if my grandma had gotten a little confused. It said "Good Luck" in English and had a horseshoe in the middle. I thought surely she got mixed up and it came over from Ireland with her dad's family rather than from Germany with her mom's family.

I wanted to find a polite way to ask her again, just to make sure. Before I asked, she gave me a list of the names through which the plate had been passed. Since then, the plate has probably become my most prized possession. If the house were on fire and I could only grab one item (other than David or Bruiser, of course), it would be the plate. (If I could grab two, my external hard drive would be next.) I don't even have the plate up on display because I haven't found the perfect spot. So, you can imagine my horror when I realized that I had lost the list somewhere. (As a side note, I recently learned that the first glass made in this style came from England many years prior to "carnival glass" becoming popular in the US. That could explain why it was written in English, especially if it was given as a farewell present to a family moving to America.)

My grandma passed away 2 years ago. She was gone before I realized the list was missing. My great-grandmother is actually still alive but I didn't want to upset her by asking. (She gets very emotional over anything to do with the past. Understandable. She's nearly 103.)

Well, yesterday, I begun cleaning out the filing cabinet I've been using as a nightstand. It is fairly bent up and not really worth saving, so I just wanted to get out whatever stray papers I had left in there and then set it by the curb for today's garbage pick up. But, as I was sorting through what was trash and what needed to be shredded, I came across the list! I actually screamed "I found it!!!!" David thought I'd gone crazy!! I went immediately and scanned it into the computer so that IF I ever lost the original again, at least I'd have a copy. (You know, because I'd save my hard drive in a fire.)

So, here is the list. Starting with my great-great-great grandparents and ending with me. Wow.

I realized something else in the course of writing this. I found the paper yesterday, August 27th. Two years to the day that my grandmother passed away. I have tears in my eyes right now, but I also can't help but smile. It seems incredibly appropriate that I would find the paper while cleaning up my room. If I had to guess, I'd say the thing my grandma said most to me over the course of my life was "Audreya, you need to clean up that damn bedroom!" and as soon as the Cubs game was over, she'd come help me!

Wardrobe Malfunction

If you ask me, someone needs to nominate me for What Not To Wear as soon as possible! As promised, here are some of the best of the worst from my recent wardrobe overhaul. While just seeing three or four things might leave you tempted to think "It's not that bad", keep in mind that there were bags and bags of equally terrible items. This is just what I could grab before David saw me and wondered what I was doing. :-)

First up, not one but two pairs of pink pants. Your choice of either Pepto Pink or Repulsive Rose. I am pretty sure these are both a product of Mom's 70% off efforts. Good thing it's the thought that counts. However, I didn't have to wear them. Judging by the wrinkles, I'm going to guess I did.

Next up, a denim skirt with what appears to be Hawaiian screen printing. At first I thought "Oh, I bought this in college." In which case, that might have made it okay. A) It would have been the late '90s B) You can pretty much wear whatever you want in college and pass it off as Poverty Chic. Then I looked at the label. A) Not from college. A larger size than I wore in college. B) Not Poverty Chic. Name brand. Yikes. (Can I pass some blame to the store for even selling it in the first place?)

That means I don't remember purchasing it sometime probably in the last three or four years. It's probably good that I don't remember purchasing it because I'd probably be a little mad at myself if I knew how much it cost. I don't know if I ever wore it, actually. I'm really questioning how I could have gotten my hips in that very straight cut. If I did wear it, I guarantee it wasn't pretty.

Continuing with our island theme, a lovely tankini in an Early '70s Wallpaper print. And is that a skirt on the bottom piece? Surely not. Except that it is.

I actually do remember purchasing this one. The good news is that I think it was about $14 total. The bad news is that I did wear it in public. Last summer, my sister got married and we had a bunch of friends and family in town. The bride decided we needed to go swimming at the hotel pool. Immediately. I ran home and attempted to find my swimsuit. I found the bottom but not the top. Since we were swimming in Arkansas, not France, that was probably not going to work. There was no time to run "to town" and get something appropriate, so I was left with the only local place that sells any sort of clothing (well, besides the feed store)... Fred's. Yes, Fred's. (If you aren't from around here, I may need to clarify a couple of points. If you live in a rural area that only has basics available, you frequently have to go "to town"... the nearest larger city... to purchase most everything. In "town", you will typically find classy retail establishments like Walmart. If you can't make it to "town", you will likely be stuck with an option like Fred's. Fred's is somewhere between a dollar store and a Walmart-type store. It's great when you run out of paper towel or toilet cleaner. It's great for clothes shopping if you happen to be over 60 and wear a 3X and want to buy the same shirt in 4 colors. Otherwise, not so much.)

My swimsuit options were obviously limited. I chose this over the one piece, racing stripe pattern with attached nearly knee-length skirt. It did the trick for the day, but in retrospect, perhaps I should have just rolled up my pants and dangled my feet in the edge of the pool. And yes, I did photograph it from the least flattering angle possible. I'm not a small girl by any means, but I don't really need a tablecloth-sized swimsuit skirt.

Finally, a brown camisole with a large bleach stain. For added sophistication, I apparently cut out the built in bra thing. I wear my own bra, thankyouverymuch. I also remember purchasing this. Now that I think about it, it was also at Fred's. I had gotten a new dress "in town" and didn't realize it was quite as low cut as it was. In order to wear it to church the next day, I had to get a cami to go underneath. I'm sure it served its purpose that day. Then, the bleach attacked it. At that point, most of you would have throw it away. Not me. I clearly remember thinking "The bleach is on the back. Whatever I wear it under will cover the bleach spot. I just need the top few inches of the front to be in good shape." Good logic, right? Finding this in the piles from my bedroom was really my "ah ha" moment. A person who saves a bleach-stained, bra-cut-out, $4 Fred's cami really has a hoarding problem.

So what have I learned?

• Just because my well-intentioned mother bought it for me, I don't have to wear it.
• Silk-screened denim is not really okay unless you're in a motorcycle gang.
• Hawaiian print should be used very sparingly unless you are a Beach Boy.
• Emergency swimsuit shopping should never take place in a town of less than 5,000 people.
• If a store bears the same first name as an old uncle or grandfather, it's probably not the ideal place to shop for clothing.
• If you give most of your old clothes to charity, God will not strike you down for throwing away the occasional ruined item. If it has bleach stains, even poor people probably don't want it.
• Having worked in retail, watching Project Runway and What Not To Wear religiously, and spending more that I care to admit on fashionable handbags clearly does not mean I always exhibit good taste! Or any taste, apparently.

Next, I have to tackle my closet. (Yes, this was just what was in my dresser and floor.) Who knows what gems await me there! In the meantime, this collection (minus the brown cami) will soon be on display at the local Salvation Army.

Twilight Dimwit

If you ask me, some celebrities should be exiled. Period.

I always say I am not going to write celebrity rant blogs or go on and on about my TV/movie habit, but yet, here I am doing it again. Today's topic: Kristen Stewart.


I. Do. Not. Like. Kristen. Stewart.

This is problematic because I am a huge fan of the Twilight empire. Yes, I love it with the same epic geekiness that I love Harry Potter. I may have said it before, but I can't tell you which one I love more. It's like asking you which of your children you love more. From a literary standpoint, no, Twilight is not Pride & Prejudice. It's not The Great Gatsby. It's not revolutionary or ahead of its time. In fact, it's a slightly new spin on a fairly overdone genre. When I first heard of the series, I thought "Seriously? The world need another vampire novel?" I read it anyway. I had to see why there was so much fuss. I was pretty late to the party. The 4th book, Breaking Dawn, was just about to be out and the movie a few months later. I thought I already knew the gist just from the buzz about it all. I admit, I read Twilight not expecting to like it. And I didn't like it. I loved it. I can't explain why. I just really became attached. I flew through each book at warp speed. Then I went back and reread the series... and again... and again. I found myself having long, involved conversations (usually via Facebook messages) with my fellow Twilight lovers. (In fact, I just had one over the phone with my beloved Andie Anderson while writing part of this post!)

As the movie opening approached, my anxiety level began to rise. I am definitely one of those "the book is better than the movie" people. I was very concerned with whether or not the movie would represent the book well. Now, I'm not delusional. I understand that the movie has to be different. I just want the movie to be respectful to the book. And, the more I love a book, the more critical I am of the movie. So, admittedly, this movie had some pretty big shoes to fill in order to get my stamp of approval.

I begun looking into who was playing what role. I was pleased with the choice of Rob Pattinson as Edward. (Although he will always be Cedric Diggory to me.) Unlike 90% of the female fan population, I am not in love with Edward. He's a good character. He's interesting. But Jasper is my favorite. I could write pages about how interesting I find Jasper. So, Jackson Rathbone seemed well-cast for the part. (Now I love him and he is my pretendy boyfriend. David doesn't mind. Ashley Greene is his prentedy girlfriend.) So it was with the rest of the cast. They all seemed adequate. Even Bella. I wasn't all that familiar with Kristen Stewart and she didn't exactly look like the Bella I had in my mind, but I thought she would do fine.

Wrong.

Overall, the movie was good. Is it my favorite movie of all time? No. Was it the best it could have been? No. But, I understand that the movie entered production before Twilight became the worldwide phenomenon that it is now. The cast, the director, what scenes stayed and went, etc. were all choices dictated by the small budget. So, for being just a step above an indie film, I think it was great. They did the best they could with what they had. Except Kristen Stewart.

Now, the remainder of my rant is based solely on her public persona and acting ability. I don't know her personally. For all I know, she could be the sweetest, most humble person on the planet. I allow for that margin of error. But, publicly, she's a dud. A total dud. I cringe when I see her. As an actress, she's mediocre at best. She basically is the exact same in every movie. It's this awkward, twitchy, random-pausing technique. Complete with equally awkward hair stroking. I don't feel like it's a "character". I feel like it's Kristen Stewart reading lines. I'd say she was above average in The Cake Eaters. She was tolerable in Adventureland. She was barely adequate in Twilight. Plus, she has this "I'm too cool to be bothered with fame" attitude. She comes off so dismissive and like being a movie star is such a bother. Really? Waah waahh! I'm so sorry you're young and skinny and rich and famous. That must really suck.

I tried my best to tell myself that maybe she was just shy. Rob Pattinson is certainly not a media charmer. But with him, it comes off as a genuine awkwardness. With her, it comes off as intentional. Then, when she can be troubled to do an interview, it's a complete pile of steaming poo.

In the Twilight world in which I live, today was a big day. There were major promo photos released and confirmations made about the soundtrack. It made me so pumped for the upcoming New Moon movie. With the huge budget and director changes, I really have a good feeling about this one. And then Kristen had to ruin it all. Her interviews cause me actual physical pain. Here is a little bit from an interview she just did for MTV. (Full interview might be here. Site was having some issues when I tried to grab the link.)

I have underlined my "favorite" parts. "How is the relationship different?" "It's different." You don't $&^%%# say?? At least try to come up with an intelligent answer. It's stuff like that that makes me want to bang my head against the wall. I know there are media coaches out there. I know she can afford one. Of course, I'm sure that she could have afforded a comfortable pair of dress shoes when she had her "ankle injury" and wore Converse or something with a Spiderman dress to the MTV Movie Awards. Oh, and she said "like" about 100 times in the interview. It, like, really annoys the, like, crap out of me when people, like, do that. You know? Like, for real.

I have no idea why I felt like this was important enough to write about... but I feel better having vented. I just don't, like, like her. You know? So, what am I going to do now? Well, first I'm going to look for any local 12 step programs that can help people like me. Hi, my name is Audreya and I get entirely too involved with books and movies. Then, I am going to focus on all the things that will make New Moon a fantastic movie. Finally, I'm going to go eat dinner. I'm really hungry.

Unclean, unclean!

If you ask me, cleanliness should have nothing to do with godliness. If it does, I'm totally screwed.

For the last week, David has been taking an "around the house" vacation. He had some days left that had to be used by the end of the month or else they would "expire". I am too busy at work to take off with him, but that's okay. He didn't seem to mind a few days to do with as he pleased. Now, when I think of an at-home vacation, I picture a lot of sleeping in, rolling out of bed in time for lunch, wearing pajama pants all day, watching movies, snacking too much out of boredom, maybe tidying up a bit around the house. Nothing extreme. It's vacation. My dear husband feels differently. He has been up relatively early every day to "do projects" around the house. The problem with his projects is that they usually involve things I also have to do. In this case, dealing with the excessive clothing situation that had taken over our bedroom.

Let me start by saying that I do not claim to be a good housekeeper. My cleaning tendencies have varied dramatically throughout my life. As a child, my bedroom was a war zone. I was required to have a "path" from my bed to the door (you know, in case of a fire) but other than that, if the door closed, my room didn't have to be clean. Not that my mom wouldn't have preferred it to be clean, but it just never was. My mom was always rather fanatical about the house. In her mind, a house should look spotless, like a magazine photo. However, our house never did. Don't get me wrong, I don't feel like I grew up in a messy house. I grew up in a very normal, lived in house. My dad is a bit of (okay, a HUGE) pack rat. My mom is more of a collector. Dad keeps everything... old papers, old clothes, boxes and boxes of unopened junk. Mom tends to "absorb" things... antiques of value but also just ancient crap from various family members. So, all in all, the house had a bit of clutter, but it was always basically clean. The dishes were done, the floors were vacuumed, etc. This was not good enough for my mom. The public areas were not model-home worthy and therefore she didn't want people over, lest they think she was a terrible person for the state of her home. Her very normal home. That's just my mom. She means well.

Somewhere along the way, I did a 180 and became obsessively clean. Totally the Monica from Friends type. The annoying "use a coaster" lady who can't go to sleep because her shoes weren't facing the same direction. The girl with the color-coded closet. The girl who once sprayed her dear, sick roommate B-Ray with Lysol because she wouldn't move from the couch I wanted to disinfect. Yeah, that girl. When I got my first solo apartment, I became a master of small space organization. The apartment was TINY but every inch had some hidden storage space or alternative purpose. It was a work of art, really.

Then I met David.

David is sort of a Dr. Jekyll / Mr. Hyde of cleaning. In some ways, he is very neat. He is not a pack rat. When he feels like he has exhausted the usefulness of an item, he has no problem giving it away or throwing it out. He also doesn't mind folding laundry, doing dishes, etc. In that respect, he's awesome. However, he has a trait I have noticed to be common in a lot of men. He doesn't look at the big picture and see a mess. I will walk into the living room and say "Let's clean up in here" and he will respond "It looks fine." He's not what you would call house-proud. He's proud we own a home. He's proud it's in good condition. That's enough for him, generally speaking. If we have laundry piled everywhere and dishes overflowing the sink, he still doesn't mind inviting people over. He's not at all ashamed that we live in our house. He got this from his parents. They are extremely welcoming and hospitable. Whether or not their house is clean plays absolutely no role in, well, anything. And I got my mom's paranoia of being judged over my house.

When we got married, I would say I was still more or less OCD about housekeeping. As we got used to living together, I slowly just started to let it go a little. David wasn't worried about it. As long as the major stuff was done (clean dishes, clean underwear, etc.), then the rest was just details. When we would invite people over and I would go on a frantic cleaning spree, he would tell me to stop acting like my mom. The people were coming to see us, not the house. So I let go even more. Plus, we've never had "traditional" roles at home. We both work full-time. We don't have children. I tend to do my own laundry, he tends to do his. At some point in the week, somebody throws in the towels. If he wants something in particular for dinner, he fixes it. I may or may not eat the same thing and vice versa. He's not at all the "you're the wife, you take care of the house" type. So I let go even more. Now, I find myself having come full-circle back to the girl who just had a path carved in her disastrous bedroom. I find myself saying "I work all day. I don't want to come home and clean." I find myself sitting on the couch watching TV, oblivious to the mess in the kitchen. It was such a slow progression that it really snuck up on me. Suddenly David is the one saying "We need to clean up in here" and I'm the one saying "It looks fine." And then, as is common with me, realizing this problem has not been motivation to fix it. Instead, it has overwhelmed me. While I might not be organized at home anymore, my brain is still a place that requires organization. I have to have a battle plan in place before I can do anything. I have to run through various scenarios and figure out the best solution. When it's something as big as our house, my brain short-circuits before I can get the plan in place. So, with smoke coming from my ears, I flop back on the couch, utterly defeated.

Enter David's vacation.

The first day he was off, I came home and found the living room absolutely piled high with clothes. I nearly died on the spot. I recognized them instantly as the piles have clothes that have been choking out every corner of our bedroom. I knew at once what David had done. If he brought the clothes to the living room, I would have no choice to go through them. Resigned as I may have become, I still wouldn't let the living room remain in this catastrophic state. And I'm pretty sure he would have form tackled me if I attempted to take them back to the bedroom. So, from the comfort of my couch with the show of my choice on the TV, I had to begin sorting through the clothes. I had to immediately bag up what would be given to charity and then start laundering what I would be keeping. When I finished a pile, a new one would magically appear at my feet. I've got to give him credit. He didn't make any annoying comments like "You never wear that" or "No, you can't keep that". The few comments he has made have been very encouraging. And, bless him, he's folded all the things I've washed and dried. So, slowly but surely, I've gotten the worthwhile clothes washed and put away. I even hung some things in my closet. (We haven't even begun to tackle my closet yet. I think he knows that would cause me to have a breakdown at this point!) Our bedroom is cleaner than it's been in years, not quite perfect yet, but on the way. Our project for the weekend will be laying new the flooring that has been sitting in the garage for ages just waiting for me to clean out the room. My desire to declutter is beginning to reappear... slowly. And, best of all, I can't stop laughing at some of the clothes I have found. I texted my cousin and asked her if I ever unknowingly did drugs. It's the only reason I can come up with for owning some of the things I found.

David's "around the house" vacation has been an adventure. Now that I have recovered from the initial heart attack of his "project", I'm actually quite glad. And, don't worry, before I ship them off to the Salvation Army, I'll post a few pictures of the most interesting articles of clothing so you can join me in severely questioning my taste!!

Because of a billboard

If you ask me, it's about time the public was educated about lupus. When I was driving home, I noticed a new billboard along the highway. It was purple, had a lady's face on it, said something like "Skin rash. Joint pain" and in really big letters said "Could I have lupus?" It then provided a link the a website for more information about lupus.

For me, the answer is very simply, yes. I do have lupus. I've had lupus since 1997. When I tell people that I have lupus, I get one of two reactions. A) "What is lupus?" or B) "Oh... my (friend / aunt / fill in the blank) died of that." And even the people who choose Option B still often go back and also choose Option A. It's a disease that most people have heard of in passing but few actually understand. Plus, it's not the easiest disease to explain. It is probably one of the most widely varying diseases. How it affects me will be absolutely nothing like how it affects the person down the street. It's really like buffet line full of conditions and each person's plate will look different.


For me, I feel comfortable discussing it with people. I'm not shy about how the disease has affected me. I'm also informed. I make an effort to understand the disease as best as possible and to stay involved with current treatments, studies, etc. When people ask me "What is lupus?" I feel like I can tell them as much or as little as they want to know. However, I know that not everyone with lupus feels this way. Like any medical condition, it's very personal and I don't fault people if they choose to keep it a private matter.


The problem that I have is that lupus is not rare. So why is it such a mystery? Most people have a general knowledge of asthma or heart disease. Sure, it is less common that those things, but it's something I can guarantee you at least one person in your life has. (Whether or not they realize it is a different matter.) If anything, lupus is under-diagnosed. Many doctors can be very dismissive (whether intentionally or unintentionally) and fail to properly diagnose and treat the patient. And don't get me started on fibromyalgia. Is it a real condition? Absolutely. Do I think that a huge number of doctors will hear symptoms like "tired" or "achy" and just assume it's fibromyalgia without thorough testing to rule out other conditions? Absolutely. The problem with lupus is that it mirrors the symptoms of so many other conditions. While you might be able to treat some of those symptoms without being properly diagnosed, the lupus can still be raging below the surface causing a number of other less easy to detect problems. Getting a proper diagnosis is major. And difficult. It shouldn't be so difficult.


In no way can I even attempt to condense my own experience or the rest of my thoughts about lupus into a manageable blog. I'll just say that I am incredibly blessed with parents who advocated for me (and taught me how to advocate for myself) and insisted I get a proper diagnosis, with doctors who are top-notch, with having found a medicine that works for me, and with a having a very well-controlled case that has very little impact on my day-to-day life. I thank God for that. I thank my doctors for that. And, if I'm being honest, I thank myself a little too. But, I know for every "me" in the world, there are thousands of other people (primarily women) who aren't so lucky.


I guess that is what impacted me so much about that billboard. It might just be another billboard that whizzes by for most people, but I am thankful for it. If someone passing sees it, visits the website as a first step towards getting the treatment they need and, hopefully, being able to enjoy the same quality of life I am, that's huge. Huge!


Lest I sound like a public service announcement, let me just encourage you to visit the website from the billboard or Lupus Foundation of America's website . Just knowing a few basic symptoms can really help you make a difference in your own life or someone else you may know. And, as you can tell from my failed attempt at brevity, I'll be more than glad to tell you what I know too.

The Root of the Problem...

If you ask me, any opportunity to include clips from The West Wing in my blog is a good one. I absolutely adore The West Wing. It is, after all, a spin off of my all-time favorite movie, The American President. It's pretty much my favorite drama of all time. Or is it a "dramedy"... you know, half drama / half comedy? It really is one of the funniest shows ever. Anyway, while more often than not I tend to find myself on the opposite side of the aisle as the characters, I think they are fabulous. And, the president went to Notre Dame and is frequently seen wearing Notre Dame gear. Once he made the whole press pool sing the fight song. That could, perhaps, add to my love of the series. Then there is Sam Seaborn. Mmmm. If Sam Seaborn were a real person, David would have some serious competition.

I'm not sure if I have a favorite episode, but I definitely have a favorite scene. I'll get to that in a moment. In the episode in which that scene occurs, the press secretary, CJ, has to have a root canal.

Since CJ obviously can't do the press briefing, she lets Josh do it. Let's just say Josh is a bit hot headed and sometimes lacks people skills. So, needless to say, things go badly wrong in the briefing. Later, the staff have to tell President Bartlett. That is my very favorite scene from the entire show. It's in my top 5 favorite scenes in TV history.

So, as you have probably guess based on the content of those clips, today was the day for my root canal. Or, as I have preferred to call it, my "woot canawl".

All things considered, it was not as bad as I had expected. Don't get me wrong, if I never have to have another one, that will be JUST fine! I tend to take a lot of Novocaine to numb up. Most dentists I have seen find that odd. When I say "Go ahead and give me more than usual." They respond with that dismissive "We'll see." Why anyone would request extra Novocaine when they don't really need it is beyond me. I need it. So, this guy pumped me extra full. It was much appreciated. The procedure itself took quite a bit longer than normal because of something to do with the way the canals in my tooth were shaped. However, nothing he did was painful. Having to hold my mouth open wide for 2 hours was painful, but dealing with this tooth for over a year now hasn't been a walk in the park either. 2 hours to fix it permanently (let's hope) is not so bad. No enchanted drills, so I'm still annoyed that it costs so much. (But as well as the anesthetic worked maybe it was made of unicorn blood.) I'll go back to my regular dentist in a couple of weeks for a crown. Oh, and she called to check on me today. Major brownie points for her. I thought it was very sweet. Bottom line: I lived through it. I expect it will be a little sore tomorrow but hopefully not too bad. Compared to the horror that was my wisdom toothectomy, this was no big deal.


Also, I made a root canal play list on my iPod and listened to it during the procedure. The criteria was "music louder than the drill". Turns out it was a pretty great play list, if you ask me! So, all in all, not such a bad day. Tooth repaired, great play list created AND a reason to impersonate CJ Cregg.

Teeth, trains and more...

If you ask me, there are too many random thoughts in my head to focus on just one for a blog. So, how about a paragraph or two each on several of the thoughts. Sounds fun...

First, the tooth. Stupid, stupid tooth. It appears I will have to have a root canal. It appears this will have to be done by an endodontist. Now, I know what you're thinking... "Endodontist? Is that some kind of dinosaur?" I thought so too. However, it appears to be a word translated "Freaking expensive tooth fixer". This is all scheduled for Monday. Joy. I got some paperwork in the mail yesterday and apparently the endodontist will be charging me $1085. To drill off part of my tooth and pull out some tissue. $1085. Seriously? Do endodontists use some sort of anesthetic made of unicorn blood? Instead of standard dental drills, do they use an enchanted one? I'm going to be disappointed if not. Then, on top of that, Google tells me I will have to return to my regular dentist and have a crown put on the tooth. That will be probably another grand. I do have dental insurance that will pay 50%, but 50% of nearly $2,000 is still way more than I have. I never used to understand why people hated dentists. I always thought they seemed pretty nice. I realize now that it was because my parents were paying the bill.

Next, I'm still really annoyed that one of the top news stories over the past few days was that Michelle Obama wore shorts to the Grand Canyon. Gasp!! Someone call the town elders. Are you kidding me? A woman on a vacation to the middle of the desert wore shorts? What is this world coming to? Apparently the biggest problem is that she wore them while on Air Force One. Um, okay? I am aware that the President does sometimes conduct meetings and whatnot while on board the plane (well, I'm aware that President Bartlett did this on The West Wing) but unless he had a meeting with the Queen of England or something, I can't imagine why this was a problem. It's not like she was wearing a Playboy Bunny leotard and fluffy tail and serving them cocktails. Get over it. I'm not going to get into a big political blog, so let's just say that I didn't vote for President Obama. But I did vote. Therefore, this is not the 19th century. He and his family have a right to act like normal humans from time to time. Wearing shorts on vacation is a pretty normal thing to do. If she had worn a fanny pack, I could see a problem.

Moving along... trains. Why don't we have them in this country? I realize that, like, 4 of our major metropolitan areas have trains and subways. For all points in between, you must drive. I have driven 600 miles in the last three days. All of this was within the same state. Annoying. The whole time I was schlepping between the offices were I was training, I just kept thinking how avoidable it was. What a waste of time and finite resources. When I was in Italy, we took trains and buses everywhere. It was affordable and easy. Hop on a train, let someone else drive so you can sleep or read or whatever. It was wonderful. I really wish I could have done that for the last three days. (Well, if I am wishing for things, I wish I were back in Italy.) I hate driving. Period. I want to be able to teleport places. However, I would settle for taking a train.

Finally, I'm excited that Project Runway is back! I didn't start watching until a season or two ago but I just love it. I have no idea why. I'm not really that interested in fashion. (I'm sure this would surprise anyone who sees me running around town in my paint-stained "yoga pants".) I do think Michael Kors is the greatest handbag designer in the whole world and he is one of the judges, but I still don't think that's why I like the show. Maybe it's because Tim Gunn seems like a real-life cartoon character (in a good way). Maybe it's because whenever I watch an episode, I get motivated to complete one of my many half-finished sewing projects. (Pillows, aprons, that sort of thing... no evening gowns!) Who knows... but I felt like all was right in the world last night when Tim reminded the designers, and all of us, really, to "make it work!"

Funny at 80

If you ask me, age is just a number. Or is it?

This weekend, we went to see The Goods at the movie theater. I mainly went because I love Jeremy Piven. His characters are generally hilarious, obnoxious and wildly inappropriate. Pretty much, if I hear Jeremy Piven will be in a movie or TV show, I expect I will enjoy it. A lot. However, I don't expect my grandmother would.

For this reason, I was a little surprised at some of the audience members for the opening of The Goods. First, I noticed a women that was probably around 60. No big deal. When I saw The Hangover, the majority of the crowd was probably 40+. My dad would have enjoyed it. He's 55. My father-in-law definitely would have. (He nearly burst a blood vessel laughing so hard at a particular drum-related scene in Step Brothers.) So, I can see where someone around 60 might have seen the trailer for The Goods and thought it would be worth seeing. Then I noticed her looking around for someone... a husband, I presumed. I saw a man walking in rather slowly and the woman seemed to be staring intently in his general direction. Hmmm, must be the husband. Why is he walking so slowly? Maybe he has some sort of injury. (Yes, these are the kind of people-watching thoughts that run through my head.)

Then, I saw the reason for his slow progress... a woman who was easily in her late 80's or beyond. She was as hunched over as she was tall. She was walking with both the assistance of the gentleman and a cane.

At this point, David also saw the woman and said "Why is Winnie here?" Winnie is my 103 year old great-grandmother. She is pretty much the exact size and shape of this woman. I said "Yeah, I know. I wonder if they meant to go into The Time Traveler's Wife instead." I fully expected the woman to get offended at some point in the movie and leave. Of course, I also couldn't help but joke that if she did decide to leave, she would probably still end up seeing 20 more minutes of the movie during her exit. Nevertheless, she stayed for the whole movie. I wasn't sitting close enough to her to see how she reacted. I didn't hear any loud gasps or shouts of "Help me, Jesus", so I am guessing she handled it okay.

Of course, this got me wondering about what I will find funny when I am 80+ years old. In a way, it's hard for me to imagine myself changing that much. I am not easily offended. I don't mind gross-out humor. Foul language doesn't send me running down the aisle. I can just take a movie for what it is - fictional entertainment. (I know there is a whole argument to be made about what I should watch. I tried to condense my thoughts on the matter but couldn't do it. Basically, I feel like I personally can watch "inappropriate" things without it affecting my behavior or beliefs. If you feel differently, I'd be glad to talk more about it with you.) Of course, there is definitely a saturation point. The other day, David was watching a movie that contained very little dialogue other than the F word, N word and GD. I finally was like "Can you please change it?" I just wonder if that saturation point will get lower and lower with age.

It's kind of weird to think of myself as a senior citizen. What will be funny to me at that point? Will having children or grandchildren and worrying about my influence on them change my sense of humor and choice in entertainment? On one hand, I can definitely see where it might. On the other hand, it didn't seem to for my parents. My sister and I weren't "sheltered". We had reasonable limitations on what we could watch, but we were not strictly a G-rated household. In fact, let's just say that my father's language was / is not G-rated. My mom just had a very "Just because _____ does it, doesn't make it okay" approach. And I think it worked. "Just because your dad says ____, doesn't mean you should. He shouldn't say that." "Just because you saw ____ on TV doesn't mean it's okay for you to go do that." I know people are going to say "That's confusing to the child." Maybe it is. I can only speak from my own experience and it was not confusing to me. I had a clear understanding of fiction versus real life. If my children seem to posses the same understanding, I don't foresee myself being too much of a "shelterer" either.

The bottom line is that, at first, I thought it was very strange to see such an older person at that particular movie. But the more I thought about it, I couldn't see my grandmother there because she has never been into "that sort of thing". Piven-esque humor wasn't her thing in her 20's and it's not her thing now. That's why she wouldn't be there. And, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that, yes, I will probably be the kooky old lady saying "Son, pick me up at the home and take me to the movies. Superbad, Part 45 is opening tonight!"

Also, a 30 second review of the movie: It was pretty much what I expected. Jeremy Piven, Ed Helms, even a few minutes of Will Ferrell. It was funny - and not the kind of funny where all the good parts are in the previews. It had some great one-liners and actually did have somewhat of a storyline. Plus, Jordana Spiro was in it and I love her. Very much in that whole Wedding Crashers - The Hangover - Step Brothers genre. If you like those movies, you'll like this one. If not, you won't. (No, I don't think I have a solid future in movie reviewing... but there you go.)

Schrute Logic

If you ask me, we could all learn a thing or two from Dwight Schrute. If you watch The Office, you already know that most of the things to be learned from Dwight would fall into the "What Not To Do" category. For those of you who aren't familiar with Dwight, let me try to give you a brief overview. Dwight's boss, Michael Scott, is a good-hearted but completely clueless guy. He thinks he's much funnier than he actually is. He goes out of his way to make people like him but his efforts usually make them think he is even stranger than they originally thought. He has absolutely no self-awareness and, well, he's a total dork. Dwight is also a total dork, but in a different way. He takes everything... EVERYTHING... very seriously. He lives for his job and constantly attempts to impress Michael. He has a very no-frills, no-mercy approach to life. And he lives on a beet farm. And he is my husband's hero... but that's a different subject all together.

In one episode, Michael is about to speak to a class of MBA students. As with most things, Michael and Dwight have a pow-wow to discuss a strategy for the presentation. Michael asks Dwight "What is the most inspiring thing I've ever said to you?" Dwight then replies with some pretty sage advice.

"Don't be an idiot. Changed my life. Whenever I'm about to do something, I think, 'Would an idiot do that?' and if they would, I do NOT do that thing."

So, all I am saying is that maybe we could just ask ourselves this one small question before we do things.

If you work with, interact with, or have ever met another human, I'm sure you've encountered more than a few idiotic incidents. (I suppose I have done my fair share as well.) Yesterday, I arrived at work around 8:00 and already have my first incident by about 8:20. A person called and said "I have such-and-such from to return to you. Does it need to be notarized?" Me: Well, I don't remember off the top of my head. Is there a spot at the bottom of the form for a notary to sign? Caller: Yes Hmmm.

My personal favorite is actually along these same lines. A person called the office and said "I can't remember for the life of me who is handling my file. I'm (name) and my husband was just in there yesterday talking to the lady but I sure can't think of her name." Me: I believe it is Cathy. She's at another office today. Would you like that number? Caller: That's okay. I have it right here on her business card. Hmmm.

I understand that people have a lot going on in their lives. They are easily distracted. Maybe they are dealing with significant issues. Perhaps they weren't blessed with same educational opportunities I was. I get that. However, I really think a lot of people are just that unaware. I also believe that someone can just be an idiot for the moment or have an idiot day. Doing a couple of idiotic things doesn't permanently relegate you to the Idiot Club. But, how many idiotic things does it take to be a full-fledged member? I'm considering handing out punch cards like they do at the Scrapbook Store. You know, spend $10, get two punches. Fill up your card, get a gift certificate. Make an idiotic comment, get your card punched. Fill up your card, be required to wear a t-shirt warning others of your condition.

I care about people. I hope the best for people. Even idiots. But as we become increasingly "in our own worlds", we lose self-awareness at an alarming rate. We forget how to interact. We stop taking the time to think before we speak. We ask a question before we even pause for a second think about what we're asking or notice the glaringly obvious solution already in front of us. We're all becoming Michael Scott. Someone must stop the madness.

I firmly believe making the world a better place is one simple question away. "Would an idiot do that?" And if they would, do NOT do that thing!

What about you? Any favorite idiot stories to share?

Amended Monday

If you ask me, maybe Monday isn't so bad. In my last post, I wrote about how much I hate Mondays. All Mondays. Then I realized I need to amend that to say I am somewhat looking forward to next Monday. Why? Dentist appointment. I realize most people are not excited about dentist appointments (myself included lately) but this one is different.

I found this comic and thought it very accurately conveys how I am feeling right now. Yes, Mr. Pirate-Tooth-Torture Guy, I have had enough. ENOUGH!!

I don't have time to rehash the whole story right now but I've been on a year long battle with a problem tooth. If you are a Facebook friend, I'm sure you've seen my numerous status rants related to the offending molar. The short version is that there is something wrong with this tooth. My previous dentist acted like I was crazy because it didn't "react" to his test. Somewhat unrelated to that, I realized he was a total creeper, refused to go back to him, his office continues to call every few weeks (take the hint, people), then I developed dental phobia, and then finally (after testing the limits of how much Orajel one can use without risking overdose) decided to find a new dentist. Of course, the appointment was several weeks out... but mercifully it is almost here now!!It's time to finally get the ball rolling on this tooth repair!

I realize next Monday I will probably feel differently. Part of the reason I have put it off so long is that I know it won't be cheap. Even though I have dental insurance, I'll still probably have to pay 50%. Boo! So long, dreamy iPhone 3Gs. I'll just have to stick with the old-school 2G and divert those funds to the tooth. This "being a grown up" stuff is overrated.

But, hooray, only one more week! I'll deal with the dread and the cost next Monday. For today, I'll just look forward to knowing I'll have a shiny porcelain crown in the coming weeks and can, once again, resume eating on the right side of my mouth. I do love eating. Obviously. 

**UPDATE**

New dentist = Super nice

Tooth = root canal

Next up = visit to the endodontist. They are special (see also: expensive) root canal-fixers. Maybe they use enchanted drills and magical Novocaine made from unicorn blood. (Or maybe I need to broaden my literary choices beyond Harry Potter.) 

Finding happiness on Monday

If you ask me, Monday should be banished from the calendar! I know there are some out there who would argue that Tuesday would become the new Monday and then what would we do? I'm not sure I agree. I think the universe just really has it out for Mondays.While today is certainly not the worst Monday I've ever experienced, it's up there. You're probably wondering why I am writing a blog at 10:30 AM instead of dealing with the problems at hand, right? Well, the answer is simple. I need to vent. I need to let my brain breathe for a minute. If not, well, that won't be good for anyone.

I don't think it has much to do with it being the traditional first day of the work week. I've had jobs where I worked on weekends. Yet, Monday still sucked. I've had weekends that sucked and thought getting back to work and my routine on Monday would help. Yet, Monday still sucked. So, I am left to assume it is inevitable. It's out of my hands. It's not a matter of attitude or positive thinking. Monday is just doomed. Period.

To be fair, about a year ago, I had a fantastic Monday. Things were going well. Some good thing happened which I no longer remember. Then all of the sudden, my cousin called. He had managed to get us tickets to the Notre Dame / Michigan football game. If you know anything about my husband and me, this is THE game of the year for us. I, of course, love Notre Dame. He likes that other team. We never thought we'd get to see the game in person but on that glorious Monday, our dreams came true and tickets were ours. The game wasn't until Saturday, but I'll always remember that Monday. Partly because of the tickets and partly because it was the only good Monday ever.

Today, Monday greeted me with a series of unusual errors on the computers at work. As of yet, I still don't know how to fix them. I'm waiting on a call from the software company. (Thus why I have time for my venting blog.) Of course, errors bring out the worst in people. I've had to tell the same lady about 5 times now that we are working on the problem and I'll let her know when it is resolved. Apparently "I'll let you know" means "Please, email every 15 minutes and tell me you're still having the problem. Become increasingly rude each time." In addition, normal discussion about my other projects seems harder to deal with today. What is it about Mondays? The clock moves slower. The house seems messier. People seem ruder. Ugh!

So, I've decided to cheer myself up by making a list of a few upcoming things that will make me happy. After all, if I can't live through Monday, I can't enjoy any of these things, can I?

Like the delicious Arnold Palmer I look forward to drinking at lunch. It's a mixture of iced tea and lemonade. You are now either thinking it sounds divine or disgusting. I have found there is no in between. I obviously find them divine!

PS - I have no idea why the straw in the glass looks like a joint. It's really just tea and lemonade, I promise!

Next up, fall!! I love fall. I have always loved fall. I used to like summer. I don't anymore. This summer has seemed especially brutal. (Despite being one of the wettest on record for this area. On the days it doesn't rain - and even on some it does - the thermometer has topped 100 more than I care to admit. I'm over it!) I can't wait for the slightly crisp air... the changing leaves... BRING IT ON!

I attempt to keep it autumn-like in my house all year. Most of my decor is in fall colors. I pretty much only use scents like Apple Cider or Pumpkin Spice. (And I use them at all times.) I've like the coziness of fall. It's not cold yet, just cozy.

The onset of fall also brings the onset of an aforementioned favorite of mine - FOOTBALL!! I'm a fan of both the Arkansas Razorbacks and the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. Don't ask me to pick a favorite. It would be like asking you which of your children you love more. But, while my loyalties are to those particular teams, I will watch just about any game. I prefer college, but will watch a little pro from time to time. Plus, you can't beat a good high school game. While the team in the town where we live is not particularly "good", we still go to most of their games. The stadium is within walking distance of our house and you just can't beat the heart of a high school team. Unfortunately, a downfall of Arkansas is that the first month or so of the season is still during hot weather. Having grown up in Northern Illinois, the first football game usually meant the first chance to debut a sweater or sweatshirt. (While I didn't grab a picture of sweaters, please note they are on my "Things That Make Me Happy" list!!) Nevertheless, the first football game here might be a short-sleeved, sunscreen-required event, but it at least means we are moving closer and closer to fall!

And my last joyful thought to get through this Manic Monday is that all the things I've listed above lead us closer and closer to the most wonderful time of the year. No, not Christmas. Pumpkin Spice Latte season at Starbucks. Mmmm!!! I think it usually becomes available on Sept. 1st. If so, look for a little countdown clock on my blog soon!! I'm not a coffee addict. I do like a cup now and then. I drink more than a couple White Chocolate Mochas or other drinks at Starbucks through the year... but all in all, I can pass up a cup of coffee or a latte most of the time. This, however, does NOT apply to Pumpkin Spice. Thank goodness the nearest Starbucks in 15 minutes away. That limits my opportunities somewhat. This is good for the waistline and the wallet. If my good friend Pumpkin Spice resided in my tiny town, I'm afraid I'd have to take an evening job at Starbucks just to afford my habit!

So, take that, Monday!! Despite your best efforts (and you're definitely trying hard today), I am going to close my eyes and go to my happy place... a place where I can sit outside in the crisp air, sip a Pumpkin Spice latte, admire the brilliantly colored leaves... and, of course, have a clear view of the football game on TV!

All the pictures today came from various locations via Google Image Search. Probably obvious but just didn't want to appear to take credit for something that wasn't mine.

My kind of town, Chicago is...

If you ask me, Sinatra was dead on! My kind of town, Chicago is...

I grew up in Northern Illinois, about two and a half hours from Chicago. I've been to the city many times. I even briefly lived in a nearby suburb. I've always loved Chicago. Maybe because it was the nearest really big city and I felt some sort of "Illinois" connection to it. Maybe because a trip to Chicago often meant I was headed to the airport to go somewhere. For whatever reason, I've always loved Chicago. My parents and I disagreed on this point. For them, Chicago was a place where we could accomplish certain things not available in our small hometown. Trips to Chicago had a specific purpose and, upon completion, it was time to leave. The sooner, the better. After all, we don't want to get caught in the rush hour gridlock!! In my later teens and the years since then, trips to Chicago often were even less enjoyable as the purpose became my health. Prior to my diagnosis with lupus, we began seeing a specialist at Rush Presbyterian - St. Luke's Hospital. Eventually after things stabilized and I was diagnosed with lupus, I continued seeing another doctor at Rush and followed him as he left the hospital for a private practice in the suburbs. Now, I'm happy to report that I am in very good health! However, once a year, I must make a pilgrimage to Chicagoland to see said doctor for my annual checkup. (We talk at other points during the year and he sends requests for test to my local doctor, but he agreed to continue seeing me despite my move to Arkansas as long as I agreed to make an in-person visit at least once a year. No problem!)

In years past, I've often gone to Illinois for holidays, events, and general visits with my parents and extended family. Now that my parents are living in Arkansas most of the time and my grandparents visit much more frequently, there was no need for a trip "home", per se. Instead, I could just go to Chicago, see the doc and then be on my way. I'd fly up, see him and then fly back. Maybe the same day, maybe spend the night. Well, that was the plan anyway...

Plans abruptly changed when Mugglecast so graciously informed me that Harry Potter was in town!! The Museum of Science and Industry was hosting the first stop of Harry Potter: The Exhibition. Rooms and rooms full of HP movie props? A chance to throw a quaffle? Say no more! I'M THERE!!!! (Insert your dork jokes here if you must.)

At this point, I took stock of how few truly touristy things I'd done in Chicago. (See "small hometown parents".) Aside from a few museums and the Sears Tower, I'd really missed out on most of the things the city boasts. So, it was decided. After the doctor visit, I'd strap on a fanny pack, hang a camera from my neck and go be a tourist. Of course, being a tourist alone would be okay, but being a tourist with my sister-in-law would be even better!!! LP also loves to travel and also loves Harry Potter, so I asked if she would like to come along and she agreed. We made the trip last week (oops, forgot our fanny packs at home) and had a fantastic time.

First up, my doctor visit. Everything went very well. No significant changes and the usual scowl from Doc upon learning I generally forget my multi-vitamin. No lecture about the weight I've gained. Whew. (Although my own fears anticipating the lecture probably did the trick. Wii Fit tonight.)

Next up: Consume large amounts of deep-dish pizza. (See "weight gain") This is a must-do for all Chicago tourists, I'm sure. One of my best friends from high schools lives in the city and was able to meet up with us for dinner. Our other high school best friend still lives where we grew up but she graciously agreed to drive in. It was great to see them. I hadn't seen them since our 10 year reunion which has already been 2 years ago! I got to meet their children, they got to meet my sister-in-law and we all had a great time. Even though I don't keep in touch with them as often as I should, it's so fantastic to catch up and to reminisce and it not feel like 12+ years has past. And, did you see the pizza?! MMMM!!!!!

LP and I did have a rental car but the general plan was to only use it to go to and from the doctor's office out in the suburbs. All our city adventures would be via public transportation. After all, the El (or L, depending on who you ask) is another Chicago staple. It's a subway, for all intents and purposes, but a good deal of it is above ground... elevated... the El. Of course I've never ridden it before. My mom assured me through my childhood that it would be a highly effective way to catch a disease and / or be murdered. But what is vacation without risking life and limb? So, the El was the plan. The pizza place was only a few blocks from where my friend lives and she was going to pick us up at the station. But, with car seat complications from their kids, it would be easier if we would just drive in. Um, sure. We have the Garmin. No problem. Well, we did make it to the pizza place just fine (after sitting in the infamous gridlock for the requisite amount of time to develop road rage).

However, there was no parking available so we decided to "make the block"... and somehow got several blocks off course.

That's how we accidentally ended up at Wrigley Field.

I'm a Cubs fan. I've never seen Wrigley. I screamed when I realized where we were. LP is also a Cubs fan. She screamed as she tried to get the camera out and take the picture above as we rounded the corner. After dinner, we decided to go back and take more pictures. Fantastic!!

Friday morning, it was off to our date with Harry! We took the El downtown without incident. We did have some trouble finding the connecting bus that would take us to the museum. Eventually we got there. Unfortunately, no photography was allowed inside but Mr. Weasley's flying car was in the main lobby. Awesome!!

The exhibit itself was beyond words. This post has already gotten quite lengthy and if you are not a Harry Potter fanatic like myself, you won't really appreciate it anyway. It was just so cool to see all the props and costumes. I couldn't believe how TINY to costumes were from the first couple of movies!! Needless to say, I was in Harry Heaven!! The exhibition will continue to tour for a few years and add items as it goes. I hope to be able to see it again near the end of the tour. And at any points in between.

Next up, we planned to take a cruise down the Chicago River that highlighted the architecture of the area. It was sold out so we bought tickets to a different cruise the went down the river and then out into Lake Michigan. At one point we thought we may have accidentally gotten tickets to a children's pirate ship cruise (which would have been cool. Arg!) but it was a regular cruise tour. It was incredible. I've never been down the river or out on the lake. The expected corny jokes from the tour guide were actually kind of funny and the weather was as beautiful as the scenery. Anyone visiting Chicago MUST put the river and lake cruise on their to-do list!! (Skyline picture at the top of the post is from the cruise.)

Our last stop for the day was the Sears Tower. Yes, I know that technically it's called the Willis Tower now but I refuse to call it that. It's the Sears Tower. Period. End of discussion. Anyway, like I said, I have actually been up in it several times. However, this time the Ledge was open. What is the Ledge, you ask? Giant glass boxes that protrude from the side of the building, 1353 feet above the ground. Oh yeah, all that separates you from becoming part of the scenery is a few inches of glass. Again, I'M THERE!!

The line to get in was RIDICULOUS. I've never had to wait more than a few minutes before. Apparently everyone wanted to see the Ledge. And now I understand why. Oh my goodness!! The views from the Sears Tower always amaze me... but to be able to see it below my feet as well was awesome. I never felt like I was going to plummet to my death or anything like that. (Since returning home and showing folks the pictures, I have learned that a lot of my friends are weenies! I can't believe how many of them are like "I would have passed out!" "You'd never get me out on that thing!" But, to each his own. I might not be scared of heights or glass... but I have my own set of irrational fears, so I'll try not to make too much fun of others! But they have no idea what they are missing, that's for sure!!)

You can see the buildings below us in this picture. This ended up being one of my favorite pictures from the whole trip. The Ledge was our last really touristy thing. The next day, we did some shopping before heading home. It was a quick trip and there were many more things we'd like to do in the future, but I couldn't have had a better time this trip. We're already talking about next year and maybe, maybe, letting our hubbys come with us. Who would have thought my doctor's appointment would be such a great getaway?!

So, to LP, thanks for going with me and being so fun. And thanks for my Marauder's Map. And to Chicago, like Frankie said, "Each time I leave, Chicago is... tuggin' at my sleeve, Chicago is..." See you next year, Chi-town! And yes, a Cubs game WILL be on the agenda!!