Want a Rubber Ducky Too?

When I take a shower, I need a lot of things to make sure I am adequately clean. I need shampoo, conditioner, shaving gel, a razor, a bar of soap, body scrub, a pouf, and face wash.

 

What does Puff need? A bottle of Pantene 2-in-1. That's it.

 

We've been together over 3 years now and I'm still trying to figure out how in the heck anything but his hair ever gets clean. And what he's doing in there for 10 to 15 minutes each morning. Trust me, the OCD I have with noises kicks into overdrive almost every morning. The sound of the shower hitting any water pooled in the tub is enough to send shivers down my spine and want me to curl up in the fetal position and cry. It makes it worse knowing he's probably not cleaning himself in there, but rather standing there singing into the showerhead.

 

Puff and I have never showered together in all the time we've been together. I always tell him I'd like to once, just so I can see what exactly he's doing. It intrigues me... a bit like how hurricanes intrigue me. I want to experience it just once, so I know what it's all about. The Ex and I would shower together on a regular basis. It saved time and water. We had a little dance of who got the water when. It worked out for years.

 

The one and only time Puff got into the shower with me, he got out about a minute later. Apparently my invite, which was meant as a time saver, was mistakenly taken as an invite to get frisky. Here I was just trying to wash my hair and he's groping me. Um.... no, sir. No sex in water. I learned my lesson with that in college. He retreated, feeling deflated. We've never attempted it since.

 

I'm secretly hoping Puff is sneaking my raspberry scented body scrub and washing himself. At least from time to time. Maybe I need to start sniffing him when he gets out. Sometimes, I'm convinced that men never grow up. Sometimes, it's like being married to an 8 year old.

Throne Room

Pre-written a few months back, but just now found it! Woops!

I’m in the midst of a torrid love affair. Just please don’t tell my husband. He thinks I’m spending my time doing girly things, like shaving my legs and playing with makeup. Little does he know I’m spending time with my new crush… our recently updated bathroom.

Even before I fell in love with my now husband, my heart was sent aflutter by his 1940s era house. I’ve since sweetly dubbed it “The Bungalow” and have made it my mission to turn the once passable bachelor pad into a more modern and socially acceptable home. His wallet may not share my ultimate vision, but he’ll certainly thank me when it comes time to sell.

An important factor I must not fail to mention is that The Bungalow came ready-equipped with a whopping one bathroom. I will give you a second to catch your breath. In today’s society, the mere mention sends shockwaves through horrified ears. But then it all seems to make sense when I break into hives at the mere suggestion of an overnight houseguest.

Our one little bathroom served its purpose well through our courtship and first blissful year of marriage. But at some point, a woman just can’t take any more. There wasn’t much I could do about having to store my feminine products in the hall closet or having to blow dry my hair in the office. But those red walls! Those, I could remedy. And that popcorn ceiling; It would be the death of me yet.

Did you realize a small, damp, not very well ventilated bathroom with a popcorn ceiling will eventually start to… shed? When we were gifted a handheld vacuum as a wedding gift, you would’ve thought I was gifted a golden giraffe. Those little pellets of drywall got everywhere and now I had a fighting weapon. Almost every day, I would savor in the sweet victory of sucking up the pieces that had fallen to the floor. Only to then get out of the shower and realize there was some in my wet hair. Did you know water plus plaster makes a paste? You can only rock pasty hair to work so many times before the trend gets old and your boss schedules you an appointment with human resources to go over the personal hygiene guidelines.

A gallon of grey-green paint, a new light fixture, and some elbow grease by a burly, hairy contractor later, and I was happy to sit alone on the toilet and gaze at our work. For the first few days, I would rush home after work and run giddy and giggly straight for the bathroom light switch to illuminate my best project to date. I am a proud mother, er, homeowner, and I’m anxious to share it with anyone who will listen.

Sound Bite Sunday

Just a little test of my posting abilities...

This is a Robbie song from his latest album (In & Out of Consciousness) that I've had stuck in my head for a few days.

Flash Bulb Friday

This is what rural Michigan looks like.

 

::banging head against desk::

 

When Puff and I went to visit his family last month, we saw this view, a thousand times over. I'm pretty sure the glazed over, befuddled look on my face was well apparent. How? What? Why?

 

Nevertheless, it is a pretty sight to see. It's made especially hilarious when your father-in-law takes you off-roading to stalk Amish people. That was a classic memory to hang onto.

 

However, I will not, never, ever move to someplace that looks like this. It was pretty for a 2 day visit. If I was forced to live there, they'd have to pay Puff and I well over a million dollars each per year. AND allow us to spend November through April in the Caribbean.

 

I really see no other logical reason to force this upon yourself...

Kiss My Apology

It appears as if it's come that time again. The time I give a half-assed apology to the readers of my blog for anything I may (or may not) have said or alluded to that pissed someone off. It's nothing new to me, obviously, to have people take me out of context. Some people dig way too deep into something just looking for a way to be offended.

 

Lighten up, people!

 

Pretty much, unless I call you out specifically, you have no way of knowing if something I write was directed at you. All I can say is that I am sorry if I upset you. (You know who you are!) However, this blog is my forum for my thoughts and opinions. If you've known me for more than two frickin' seconds, you know I'm very strong-willed and hard-headed. (Oh yeah, and opinionated!) Yes, I fully admit that most of the time, it's my way or the highway. Blame it on being an only child. Blame my mother for being the same way.

 

Those of you who are my true friends accept this little blip on my life resume and choose to see all the other good things about me. I appreciate your trust, loyalty, patience, and understanding.

 

So, the overall gist of this post is that if you're taking the time to read what I have to say, you need to be interested in what I have to say. Understand that we will not always agree. If we did, we'd be the same person. And let's face it, I'm totally cooler than you are anyway. (You know who you are!) A little controversy and pot-stirring is totally my schtick. Or, at least that's what some of you obviously think.

 

I've never been one to hide what I am feeling or thinking. I will not censor myself in my own, personal, blog for your convenience. Get your head out of the clouds and realize this blog is not about YOU. It's totally, 100%, about ME.

 

Deal.

Travelogue: Part 8

We've finally hit the end! (Can you tell my enthusiasm has waned significantly from the first travel recap post?) Our last "real" day of vacation (not counting the day of deathly stomach virus and the day of 24 hours of flying) was spent in the adorable town of Stockholm, Sweden. I wasn't sure I would be so enchanted by the place, but it's the one city where I really felt like we MISSED something. It just was not enough time.

 

 

In everything I read pre-trip, The Vasa Museum just jumped out on everyone's list of recommendations. And it didn't disappoint. After a tender ride, a bus, and then a tram, we ended up at this magnificient museum to see one of the world's oldest, in tact, vessels. This grainy photo doesn't even do it justice. (No flash and no tripod = very mediocre photos!) It was about 5 stories tall and the wood was intricately carved on every surface.

 

The basic gist of the backstory was that it sailed in the early 1600s, but sank just past the harbor on its maiden voyage. It stayed buried under the sea until around the 1960s. Due to the cold water off the coast of Sweden, where no wood-eating bugs live under water, it was almost perfectly in tact. Some painstaking renovations later, the Swedes have one of the most badass boats I've ever seen.

 

 

 

For lack of a better comparison, Skansen is a site similar to Colonial Williamsburg. I have cuter pictures of buildings (and pastries) and windmills, but thought this photo gave you the general idea better. It was a seemingly sprawling amusement park of a place. There were some rides, some zoo animals, some historic buildings (obviously) and even a ferret adoption. It's also where I may, or may not, have eaten a reindeer hot dog. I was way too afraid to question it. Puff was very proud.

 

 

 

The Gamla Stan area of town is the "Old Town" where the adorable buildings line cobble stoned streets. Unfortunately, we never found charming photos or saw any charming video before we left. That's why we opted to do Skansen instead of meander the streets. Granted, we needed to see more cobble stones like a hole in the head. But when we got a quick glimpse, while snapping a few quick photos of a cathedral and the Royal Palace, before our bus back to the ship, we were DEFINITELY irked that we didn't have more time. It would be a great city to stay in overnight, when the daytrippers are gone. It was so user-friendly and the people were fantastic. And that food festival they were setting up looked divine!

 

When we were pulling out of town and caught only a mere glimpse of the steeple from their fabled Town Hall, Puff mentioned that maybe when we go to Norway, we can have an extended layover in Stockholm to catch all the things we missed. Never mind that Sweden is farther east. I was just thrilled that he was throwing out a new travel destination.

 

Do you think it's too early to start researching that train from Oslo to Bergen and then the boat ride through the fjords? Hmmm... I think I just gave it away that I'm already ahead of the game on that trip. Now to pick a year to take it...

To The Class Of

My AP English teacher, senior year of high school, was a total rock star. After we had taken the AP placement exams (which got me out of one semester of college English... woo hoo) we were deemed with the task of writing a commencement speech. All my 18 year old angst came flooding to the surface, in the most creative way I could think of. Yes, this is written entirely from bits and pieces of song lyrics. Three cheers for unintentional plagerism...

 

I've got to be honest. I think you know. We're covered in lies and that's OK. There's somewhere beyond this, I know. But I hope I can find the words to say. I'm trying to grow, so before I'm old, I confess. You think I'm strong, but you're wrong. You're wrong. So, how do you like me now? Now that I'm on my way. Do you still think I'm crazy? Standing here today. You can call me a joker. You can call me a fool, but right at this moment, I'm totally cool.

 

This race is for rats. It can turn you upside down. It's a dream that strings the road with broken glass for us to hold. This destruction leads to a very rough road, but it also breeds creation. I believe it's time for me to fly.

 

I've been landlocked here for so long, it's high time that I set sail. I was born in this small town, where you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. Yet, somehow, I know there's more to life than this. But I can't afford the airfare, so put umbrellas in my drink and I'll waste away in Margaritaville and pray this boat don't sink.

 

I'm going into the great wide open, under those skies of blue. Out into the great wide open, a rebel without a clue. I'll be running down a dream, that never would come to me. Working on a mystery, going wherever it leads. Living in the real world, whre everything's written in black and white. Living in the real world, where you don't get anything unless you fight.

 

Now, I understand about indecision, but I don't care if I get behind. People are living in competition and all I want is to have my peace of mind. I'm running out of self-control, getting close to an overload. I'm up against a no win situation. But some will win and some will lose. Some were born to sing the blues. This movie never ends. It goes on and on and on and on.

 

If you're tired of the same old story, turn some pages. We'll be here when you are ready to roll with the changes. But even if you don't go all the way, I know that you'll go far. Just don't be too forceful, or you'll ruin your chances. And keep in mind that patience and elated wisdom don't share a common phrase, and hanging on won't justify the wait. Don't hang on. Nothing last forever but the earth and sky. It slips away and all your money won't another minute buy. But for what it's worth, it was worth all the while.

 

Do you remember, then, how it was when it all began? I tried all night not to break down and cry as the tears rolled down my face. Where does the time go? Spinning my wheels, standing still. It's like running on ice. Remember the photographs, the ones where we all laugh. We were having the time of our life. Well, thank you, it was a real blast. They call it paradise, I don't know why. You call someplace paradise, kiss it good-bye. Have no regrets. They don't work. No regrets, they only hurt. The road you leave behind is another road you're going to have to come back down. It's just the way this big old world turns round. You'll find out somehow, somewhere, someplace, sometime, you gotta go back down the road you leave behind.

 

I know that things are going to change. The only thing for certain is that nothing stays the same. But will we think about tomorrow like we think about now? Can we survive out there? Can we make it somehow? Tell me a story where we all change. We'll live our lives together and not estranged. You're going to find out who your true friends are. They'll call you a hero, or a traitor, but you'll find out, that sooner or later, nobody in this world is gonna do it for you. So do what you gotta do. And you'll find that you get what you put in and people get what they deserve. If you want the truth to admit it, you've got to find out for yourself.

 

There are too many mountains and not enough stairs to climb. Too many churches and not enough truth. Too many people with not enough eyes to see. Too many lives to lead and not enough time. You will come to a place where the only thing you feel are loaded guns in your face and you'll have to deal with pressure. But take it from me, you'll learn more from your accidents than anything that you could ever learn in school. Life's a dance you learn as you go.

 

What doesn't kill us makes us strong. And nobody ever said that life was going to be fair. You're never going to get anywhere by running scared. And if that's what you have in mind, then that's what you're all about. Good luck moving up, cause I'm moving out.

 

Your life is now in this undiscovered moment. Lift your head up above the crowd. Because who knows how long this will last. Now that we've come so far, so fast. But somewhere, back there in the dust, that same small town is in each of us. But I still don't know how and I don't know where we are. Yet, someday I'll try again and not pretend. This time forever. Someday, I'll get it straight, but not today.

 

Just give it your best and don't worry about what some may say. Follow your dreams, it's really all that you can do. So give it your best, and remember that life is what you choose. Follow your dreams and do what you love to do.

 

But in retrospect, my only words of wisdom are RADIO EDIT.