Only in my dreams

Source: Wikipedia

I started writing this post about 4:30 Monday morning. Well, in my bed and in my head. (Hey, that rhymes!)

Oh it was a brilliant chain of events, just ask Gerald.

! That was the doorbell! I just heard the doorbell! A quick look at the clock: 4:53. Considering our bedroom clock is about 20 minutes fast, it was probably more like 4:30. But being in such a state of sleepiness, the time, real or fake clock time, just wasn’t registering. My oldest has these crazy cross-country practice hours and we’ve already experienced his ride ringing the doorbell at an ungodly hour while my whole family, including my son, has been sleeping soundly. So when I heard the doorbell ring this morning at about 4:30, I, oh I mean I made Gerald jump into full on GO mode.

Turn off the house alarm! Grab some pants! What time was he supposed to be up this morning?? And, weird, why wasn’t the dog in her usual “doorbell” attack mode? She was showing zero interest in our, oh I mean Gerald’s hop-to-it run to the door and get the boy up party.

Gerald after coming back in our bedroom: The doorbell didn’t go off, there’s no one at the front door.

Me: Oh, I must have been dreaming, sorry. ZZZzzzzz….

I’m just kidding, my heart was pump’n after the false alarm. And boy was Gerald annoyed. So sue me. The thing is, this isn’t the first time, and I’m positive it won’t be the last, where I cost Gerald sleep.

I have (and will continue to)…

–Woken Gerald up accusing him of bringing a clump of mud and grass into our bed.
–Woken Gerald up with a gasp because I thought there was an intruder standing over our bed.
–Made Gerald go running out of our room and into the living room, unarmed, thinking OUR house alarm was going off when it was really our neighbor’s (hers is REALLY loud and I thought it was our house alarm).
–Woken Gerald up by shaking him awake, having to ask some urgent question that I guess came up in my dream.

There have been other similar occurrences but they all share the same MO.  We’ll both realize I was just dreaming (again), and (hopefully) we both go back to sleep. It sucks when it’s almost time to get up anyway. You know, when you realize you only have maybe 10 to 30 minutes or so. Then you think, I may as well get up, but then you don’t, and then you end up hitting the snooze at least three times, and then you’re running late even though you could’ve actually run early. Yeah, that.

Sweet dreams, everyone!


Coins only!

It’s rerun time! I figured there’s mainly reruns on TV right now, oh and I’m having just a smidge of blogger’s block lately, so I’m posting a repeat of one of my favs! Trust me, it’s much better than the new post I was attempting. And as a bonus, I’m betting it’s a new post for most people who happen to come across my blog. 🙂

Anyhoo, enjoy…

coins only

Not an actual toll road sign but it ought to be

Apparently, all kinds of items besides (valid) coins are found in toll road coin hoppers (the basket thingees where you throw your change to pay your toll).

I have compiled a list–on very good authority I might add–for the morons out there who don’t seem to grasp the true meaning of “Coins only.”

“Coins only” means — Coins ONLY, and NO —

  • condoms (packaged or used)
  • fuses
  • bullets/casings
  • safety pins
  • nails
  • lockets
  • earrings
  • rings
  • fake/foreign coins (paper or Chuck E. Cheese’s like)
  • paper money (real or fake)
  • firecrackers
  • gummy bears
  • nuts/bolts/screws (obviously the morons don’t want to lose anymore of these)
  • washers
  • bottle caps
  • turn signals
  • reflectors
  • ears (real or costume)
  • eye drops
  • “tobacco” rolling papers
  • clown (?) noses
  • mints
  • jolly ranchers
  • tongue depressors / popsicle sticks
  • whistles
  • keys
  • pantyhose
  • necklaces
  • pipes/tubes
  • money clips
  • watches
  • fishing hooks/lures
  • guitar picks
  • golf tees
  • dog tags
  • buttons
  • dice
  • fingernails (real or fake)
  • condiment packets
  • medals
  • drug capsules (OTC, prescription, illegal, whatever)
  • lighters
  • locks
  • drug vials
  • puppies


When today really means tomorrow, or maybe the day after that

Things have been super hectic at home and work. And in true “me” fashion, I ordered a new workout program to add to the chaos that is my life right now. But since I can’t stand another second of my too-tight clothes and my carb-binging frenzies, I figured It. Is. Time. And it is too. But apparently Amazon doesn’t think I’m quite ready to start my new better self.

I’ve been tracking my package since I got the “Your package is on its way!” email, and the tracking info revealed it was supposed to get here by 8pm today. TODAY. Apparently, Amazon’s today is not really TODAY. The package did not come today. And I’m pretty sure I’m not going to find it on my doorstep at 11:59pm tonight. (Not that I’m actually going to set my alarm to go check at my front door at 11:59 tonight. That would be ridiculous. Huh hum…).

What’s REALLY ridiculous is that even though it is now WAY past 8pm (TODAY), Amazon is still telling me I will receive my package by 8pm (Today). And there’s this nifty little progress bar that tells me “It’s on the way.” Lies, all lies, Amazon! I’m hoping Amazon’s “today” will at least be “tomorrow.” You’d think they’d have the decency to tell me “tomorrow.”

Even though I am totally disappointed in Amazon at the moment, I have to admit this is better than the times when I log in to Amazon to track a package that has been delivered, only to discover the damn thing wasn’t delivered to me. I still wonder what happened to my WEN shampoo. Surely someone out there enjoyed my 32 ounce bottle of pomegranate bliss. You’re welcome!

There was this one time when I ordered a twin-sized mattress race car bed from Walmart and it got lost. How do you lose a giant box? Engagement ring sized package, I get that, but you should’ve seen the size of this thing! After a few weeks of runaround, we FINALLY got Walmart to send another bed. Can you guess what happened next? The look on Gerald’s face when we had the chance to fib to the truck driver that we hadn’t already received one of the bed deliveries was priceless. Um no, we don’t need two giant race car beds in the house, Gerald.

Whoops, I see I’ve slipped into rambling mode. I’m positive there are plenty of “package delivery gone wrong” stories out there. Do share in the comments. I gotta run. Gotta set my alarm for 11:59.


All My Barbies

Barbie RV
Oh yeah, this was the stuff!

My youngest is at that age where he’s sort of caught between still wanting to play with his Lego toys and figuring it’s time to be more “grownup.” His wild imagination is obvious when he is in the throws of whatever story he happens to invent. I remember being like this with my Barbies. When my imagined Barbie storylines started playing out more like a soap opera, however, I figured it was probably time to put the For Sale signs up on Barbie’s townhouse and RV. I mean, when Barbie’s Ken started sleeping with her sister AND her bestie, that’s just not right. And not to mention, how many soap stories could I play out with these dolls? I had no two Barbies that looked exactly alike, so the whole “evil twin” storyline wouldn’t have worked.

I had learned (the truth) about the birds and the bees around this time, and apparently I embraced this knowledge by playing out different “dramatic” stories with my dolls. Hmm… hopefully my son is not playing out similar stories with his Lego figures but one cannot be so sure. He will hole himself up in his room for hours and won’t discuss/share any of it. I’m pretty sure any dialogue spoken with his characters stays in his head, never out loud. This is how I would play with my Barbie dolls.

My son gets a little embarrassed when someone sees his make-believe world setup. I didn’t like it when someone would happen upon me while playing with Barbie either, especially when Barbie and the no good two-timing Ken had a date. Yeah, Barbie could be so stupid, not unlike some females in the real world and especially not unlike pretty much every female character on every possible daytime TV drama that has ever existed.

Beyond the Barbies, I have played out dramatic dialogue in my mind, probably since this described time of taking the Barbie playing to a whole different level. The majority of this fantasy speak has been “romance.” I loved reading all the cheesy novels, often referred to as “chick-lit” nowadays. I even wrote a book, titled “Camp Crush” after my first real “flirting” experience. I couldn’t get enough boy/girl romance. Even today, I love love LOVE a good romcom or super ridiculously sappy love story. These are commonly known as “chick flicks” nowadays. I love the escape. It’s fun to pretend, or maybe even believe for just a few hours, that a man can be so completely head over heals for a woman that he will go to whatever lengths to win the girl. I really should watch these movies with other women though, and NOT my husband. Gerald doesn’t waste a second to tell me one of my favorite movies is total horse shit. Oh that’s such a chick flick, he’ll say Well, I don’t care, I’ll say. I LIKE it. I believe I’ve always been in love with the idea of being in love.

Okay, this post has gone all over the place. Not sure where I’m going (that’s so unlike me, I know!). I just find it funny how watching my son with this “maturity” struggle triggered memories of a similar time in my life.

Hmm… I’m betting if my parents had known what was going on with Barbie and friends in our house, the decision to stop playing with the dolls wouldn’t have been mine. Here’s hoping the Lego play is a little more innocent.