Why I need a vacation...

I hit my head on a door earlier today.

Correction: I opened a door into my face WITH BLOODY CONVICTION earlier today.

You are a special kind of tired when your body moves an object towards itself, and your own freaking head forgets to get out of the way.

Sigh.

Bring on Thanksgiving!

Why I limit my exposure to horror films...

Every so often I find myself unable to sleep, because I am trying – desperately – to come up with a realistic action plan incase of a zombie attack.

Mostly, I find myself primarily concerned over the type of zombie attack. If, say, it is a zombie attack similar to the one in 28 Days Later, I know I only need to find a safe place with access to enough food and fresh water to survive for a month.

However, in the event of a zombie attack similar to the 2004 version of Dawn of the Dead, I’m not sure what I’d do. Zombies of this type won’t die, and I am still haunted by the decapitated head floating in the box in the ocean. When the box was opened, the zombified head was still thrashing around violently and trying to bite the survivors. So, assuming you could make it to some sort of deserted island in the middle of the ocean, who could say that a Dawn of the Dead zombie wouldn’t – carried aimlessly by tides and currents – eventually wind up on YOUR island? I’m sure there isn’t an island remote enough for castaway survivors of this kind of zombie attack to ever feel completely secure. Especially, if you’ve ever watched the documentary on the Discovery Channel that explains how coconut trees and other small plants and animals found their way to the oh-so remote Hawaiian Island chain gazillions of years ago. I don’t know about you, but I’d never feel safe if there was even a teeny tiny chance that a zombie might fall out of the sky one day thanks to some distant typhoon over the Philippians.

It also concerns me that it might not be immediately obvious WHICH kind of zombie attack I am dealing with. And – with so many different types of potential zombies out there – how does one adequately prepare for an attack?

Again, I lose sleep over stuff like this!

Did I mention that I have put more thought into survival plans involving zombies than I have for fire, flood or tornados? Trevor finds that alarming. I, however, am used to planning for worst case scenarios. And, quite frankly, what could possibly be worse than an attack of the undead?

The family obsession with fake farming...

Picasso Farms

A Facebook message from my mother:

I may need you to take care of my farm while I'm out of town...I don't think running a farm with "dial-up" will work! Would you be willing to milk the cows and collect the eggs, harvest the fruit and sheer the sheep? Feed the cats yams? Collect horse hair? OMG! I could let the fields be fallow...??

Awesome.

Oh, the woes of a newly married woman...

After multiple nights nearly FREEZING to death in my own bedroom, the summer quilt that has adorned our bed for the past six months is back in the linen closet for the winter. A brand new, thick, snuggly comforter has taken its place.

Trevor, a.k.a. “The Human Oven”, tried to convince me that it was too early for such a dramatic bedclothes overhaul. I ended up making the switch this afternoon before he arrived home from work.

HAHA! Take that!

I am just excited about the prospect of (finally) sleeping without shivering.

Farmville: less like a game and more like a obsession...

Grammy Pammy on why she thought her Farmville cats yielded YAMS instead of YARN:

“See, if you spell yarn...the ‘r’ and the ‘n’ could merge and be an ‘m’.”

Why I love Oral History...

A quote from an oral history I participated in a couple of years ago:

Bob: ...He was a sweet guy. He just...he graduated from a law school that was peripheral to say the least and Joe was the kind of guy that was everybody’s friend. But he wasn’t about to be…one of my dogs is trying to screw the other (looking out the window and laughing)...okay where were we...you asked me about Joe...

A public service announcement of sorts...

Because I still need new shoes, I found myself super-gluing my cute, strappy black sandals back together after an event this afternoon.

Now, to be fair, I went to DSW on Saturday with Trevor. I just didn’t buy anything. Why? Because after about 15 minutes, I got so overwhelmed that I had to leave the store. Even after I saw my favorite running shoes on super sale. Shoe shopping just really stresses me out. I just don’t get it. If it were up to me, I’d wear Birkenstocks, flip flops or sneakers every day of every week for the rest of my life.

Anyway, I’m super-gluing my shoes back together while talking to my coworker this afternoon…

(You see where this is going?)

…and the next thing I know, my fingers are firmly stuck to Nora’s desk.

I seriously always thought that super-gluing body parts to whatever was the stuff of sitcoms…not reality. But I am here to tell you that it definitely IS possible. As well as rather embarrassing.

So, yeah, I really need new shoes…

When nature attacks...

Bad Nature.

Last night, Haskell EXPLODED in through his doggie door with a look of terrified horror on his face. He was only on thee legs – hopping hurriedly towards us. The source of his fear was adhered to his back left paw. Panicking, he urgently presented his paw to Trevor – squeaking with urgency.

Help! Help!

The problem? A leaf had gotten stuck to his lower leg.

Trevor, laughing hysterically, watched as the leaf detached from Haskell’s paw and fell – rather anticlimactically – to the living room floor.

Please remember that this dog survived on the streets for eight months before I found him.

Poor Haskell.