Manic Monday #177

Now that life has resumed a semi-normal pace, I present to you: a return to blogging normalcy, aka Manic Monday but on Tuesday! Play along here.

What is one thing that you would change about yourself if you could?

A leeeetle more self control. I also wouldn't mind more shapely, less column-y legs.

Name three exotic countries you would like to visit:

- Greece
- Ireland (it is TOO exotic. shut up.)
- Brazil

What do you think the secret to life is?

Being happy with what you have while knowing what you want. Landing a great husband like mine hasn't hurt, either. Oh...and you need a dog too. Preferably one who cuddles and/or plays frisbee.



Last Friday, my little brother tied the knot, and I was there to document it.

Congrats, little bro. Many happy returns.


"fireworks" in the bedroom

I couldn't resist the post title.  But it's (probably) not what you're thinking it means.

Last night I got into bed early while Brian was finishing up something for something-or-other.  He came into our room, saw me reading, turned on the ceiling fan, and left.  

In my head, some form of 'that was random' thought or other started rolling around until I was interrupted by a weird motor-y noise.  No biggie, right?  The fan usually makes a weird noise when it starts up - sounds like a plate spinning on a tile floor.  We thought it was because the bowl-looking thing that covers up the wires and whatnot connecting to the ceiling had come loose - which it had, we just hadn't gotten around to screwing it back in place.

It didn't take long to realize that this noise was different, and was augmented by another, more scary, noise...something like shorting wires.  I looked up (in terror) and saw (in terror) SPARKS and little blue FLAMES coming from the ceiling fan - the part between the blades and the motor, AKA the part directed at me.

Now, our bedroom is small.  Like 8x10 maybe.  SMALL.  My college dorm rooms were bigger.  The fan is square over the middle of the bed; the door is on one side of the fan, and the WIFE was on the other side.  If this thing came down, or if it lit a fire, I would be trapped in the corner of the room opposite the door.  If I would try to leave through the door, I would have to come within inches - at most, a foot and a half - of any fire that might start, given the tight arrangement of mattress and dressers in there.  

Either that, or push the window unit out and make the 8-ish foot jump out the window.  In my summer (read: insubstantial) PJs and with no shoes.  Over a holly bush.  How's that for fun?

So in the oh, half a second it took me to run through all of this, I made the rational decision to cower and scream for Brian, rather than oh, I don't know, make my escape before a real actual fire happened, or, you know, grab the extinguisher over on Brian's side of the bed just in case a real actual fire happened or make a dash for the switch to like turn the thing off or something.  And of course at hearing his name in panic, he's all 'what is it now,' thinking I saw a spider or something.  Because I am prone to calling for help when there are spiders and that's what I would have thought, too, if I didn't know there was an electrical fire threatening to splode all over my pillow.

Brian, if you're reading this, please take note:  spider panics are more whiney than 'OMG I am SRSLY about to die' panics.  Remember how sharp and urgent it was last night and next time, run don't walk. And next time I'll try to say FIRE FIRE FIRE instead of BRIAN BRIAN BRIAN.

So he comes walking into the room and I say something like THE CEILING FAN'S ON FIRE and he turns it off all calm-like and says, and I quote, 'Nuh-uh.'  Or maybe it was 'no way.'  Either way, I find it necessary to say IT WAS ON FIRE LOOK AT THE SMOKE.  And then the whole room was full of smoke and that really sharp electrical fire smell.  He kinda marveled for a minute, because I mean who wouldn't, and then he went back to working on whatever he was working on and I made a note to call the landlord.

And that, my friends, is why I had bad dreams all night.


the expected whats-it

You know how sometimes your life gets really busy, and there's a ton of stuff going on and you're moving in a million directions (or in my case, you and your spouse are moving in a million directions, sometimes not the SAME direction, all the while sharing a car)??

That's me, right now. There's a lot going on. The list that follows is a boiled-down snippet of our schedule the past and coming weeks:

June 16-17 - Ashley away on business
June 21-28 - Ashley away on business
July 7-9 - 9 teenagers, ages 17-19, are staying at our house
July 8-9 - Ashley's college roommate is staying at our house (that's today, yay!)
July 9-12 - Brian's sister gets married the 11th and Brian is doing a large portion of the service; we spend these days in Brian's hometown, 4+ hours south of us. (This is the part where we bring back our second vehicle, joy upon joy.)
July 15-17 - Ashley's brother gets married on the 17th; we spend these days in the bride's hometown, 4 hours north. We also drive back the night of the 17th, because...
July 18-19/20 - We fly 2000 miles west for a face-to-face visit with a potential new employer for Brian. Ashley comes back the evening of the 19th, Brian comes back sometime the 20th.
July 24-26 - After work on Friday, we go to the beach, where Brian is performing a wedding on that Saturday.

Add a few crises in the mix, and what you have is a genuine, bonafide mess of a human being, for right now.

People say that this is what life is all about. I'm trying to just sit back and 'enjoy the ride.' What do YOU do when your schedule is out of control? (If applicable:) How do you stay connected with your spouse when you're so busy?


Manic Monday #174

It's been a while, and I'm behind the times. Nevertheless, here is this week's Manic Monday! Play along here.

What is the longest love relationship (partner) you have had, and if it has ended, why?

The longest relationship I've had lasted about 4 years, with the last year of it being somewhat 'undefined.' It ended because he is a jackass and I wasn't ok with it any longer. When people ask me what happened, I just say this: that our relationship was great while we were in college, but it didn't work when we started transitioning to the real world. A lot of relationships are like that. You change in college, you change when you're finding your way after college. Our changes weren't compatible. Plus, the older he got the more of a tool he became.

Incidentally, I was with that guy longer than I've been with my husband :) And I'm way happier and better off.

What is on your bedside table?

I am currently reevaluating the things I want to have on my bedside table, so this list might shrink. But with that said, my bedside table currently holds a 3-wick candle with a YUMMY smell, my iHome ipod dock/clock radio (which needs replacing because the buttons don't work most of the time, argh), a framed picture of Brian and me on our honeymoon, a framed letter he wrote me shortly after we started dating (so sweet!) and the stack of books I'm reading or hope to be reading soon. My faithful copy of the American Heritage Dictionary is hanging out there for now, too, in an effort to continue recouping the vocabulary I lost with the head injury.

How many pillows do you have on your bed? Do you make your bed every day?

I sleep with one pillow, Brian sleeps with 2. Along with those, I have 3 decorative pillows that I put on the bed most days. No shams, no major foofiness. Plain light quilt that coordinates with the sheets and pillowcases, and the sometimes-present 3 decorative ones. Love. We make the bed almost every day; a lot of times, I'll go in there to make it and Brian will already have straightened the covers! Again with the sweetness. It's so much easier to make when there's no fuss - he doesn't feel alienated, girlied-out, or overwhelmed/put off with ridiculousness, but if I feel like adding 10 seconds of effort, I can toss the pillows on top and get my cuteness fix. It works (well) for us.