My Insurance is Going to HATE Me...

I have escaped, momentarily, from my king-sized prison and its 500-thread count sheets and my jailer, a slightly pissed-off cat. 

You see, I slept NOT AT ALL last night due to a hacking cough that, at 4 AM, I was convinced had separated my tongue and loosened my lungs.  Dizzily, I climbed the stairs and got dressed and made Harry (who slept through ever single coughing fit I had even though they have begun to sound eerily like dying seal barks) take me to the Now Care center down the street from our house.

Walking in, they took me immediately back and I am now the pround owner of some strong yet-yummy flavored cough syrup and a kinda scary inhaler. 

One of these days, I'm gonna be a real girl.  Until then I'll continue on my way as a drugged-up sicky. 

Hope all is well in J-land and promise that as soon as my brain cells are released from the sickness coma they're currently surrounded in - I'll write something more entertaining. 

 

Sorry for the Delay...

I managed to be the last person in the frickin' tri-state area to get the FLU!!!

So I'm a bit laid up at the moment. 

Nothing exciting to report, I'm just happy to be conscious and medicated at the moment. 

I spent much of last  night reading while Harry spent some quaility video game time with his good buds.  Unfortunately for me, I had a rather cranky cat for company:

It's rather hard to read a good book when one's fluffy paw is covering some rather important bits!   Shortly after this photo was snapped, Phoebe ran up me and settled around my neck like a weezing fur collar.  It would've been sweet if not for the kitty sneezes that she launched on the back of my neck every half hour or so!

 

Shhh... I'm hunting wabbits...

Elmer Fudd'd be jealous.

Yesterday, right in downtown Arlington, VA, Harry and I spied one of the most rare animals known to man:

The Lexus Rabbit... Shhhh... He looks jumpy!

Hee hee - I don't know what happened here or if this dude thought he was fooling anyone by gluing a Lexus emblem on the left side of his rear while leaving the Rabbit on the right.  

He invented the first ever Hybrid, without all that messy engineering stuff!

--Holly

Hide and Go Seek

Last night as Harry and I cuddled on our too-small queen sized hotel bed with the ill-fitting sheets that go POP! in the night when one decides to roll over, I gently caressed my husband with my hand. My ice-cold fingered hand.

"Yeeeeeow!" Harry jumped as I tried to soothe him by putting my other ice-cube-like hand on his warm lower belly.

"Stttttop it!" his teeth chattered as he yelled at me.

"Shhhhh," I soothed as I slowly rolled my hands over so that the top of the freezing digits were now on his nice 97.8 degree abdomen.

"That's it!" he bellowed as he threw back the comforter accidentally popping off the corner of the sheets and stomping to the bathroom in the dark, his white tee and man panties glowing in the dark.

I heard the water running and I knew what he was doing.  He was purposely running his hands under the cold faucet.

Bolting to the other side of the room, behind the chest of drawers, I sat on my suitcase and hid in the darkness.  I was 007.  I was invisible.  I was - busted.

As Harry came out of the bathroom, I bit my tongue and tried not to giggle.

"Holly?"  I laughed and hornked from the corner as I tried in vain to be quiet for my welll-planned sneak attack.

However, I hadn't planned on my husband being clever enough to flip on the lights.

"Aaagh!" he screamed as light flooded the room and he rushed at me, hands dripping and I a sitting duck on my suitcase. 

"You found me!" I screamed.

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't laughed," he said as he pulled me from my perch and threw me on the bed to place his cold hands on my warm back.

"Aaaagh!"

Ain't love grand?

Like in this picture where Harry "feeds" me a bit of Rice Krispie Treat:

 Awwwww and stuff.

The Homeless Hermit

I'm like the female version of the Roaming Gnome.   I'm in Arlington, VA/D.C. area and loving every minute of  this sleep until 11AM life!

I was trying to do some last minute packing on Sunday when Harry informed me he was going to run to Huntington to do some errands and would bring lunch on the way back.  I took this time to do some much-needed laundry.  

Harry came back while I was in the middle of watching the third straight episode of "Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency."  Why?  Because she was auditioning male underwear models.   I tried to be nonchalant as I folded my sleepy pants and t-shirts but apparenly I was not as sly as I'd hoped.

At one point, while the Austrian model donned a pair of thongs that left little to the imagination, I drooled.  Just a little.

"Holly!" Harry cried from across the room where he was checking the dimensions of our media tower against the new receiver he'd just purchased the previous week.

"What?"  I stupidly responded, wiping my chin.

"You were drooling!  You were!  You were like this," he glassed over his eyes and dropped his mouth open.  

"Was I?"  I giggled and tried to be coy.  

But then another well-toned and floppy haired man put on a pair of boxer-briefs.

I was a goner.

"HOLLY!"

I Sold My Soul for a Spacebar...

Well, here's where I'm gonna incur the wrath of the J-landers for selling my soul to the devil (Harry) for a working spacebar.  

Yup - the Vaio was returned and I'm now the proud, if not slightly fearful, owner of another HP - a dv6000 series to be exact. BUT - the spacebar works and Garth Brooks is now singing about betrayel and murder from my speakers rather than the Sony's tin can ones. 

As much as I love laptops for their versatility, there is something so - well - concrete about a desktop.  So, while I was pouting about not getting a pair of black Coach flats (my spoiledness REALLY knows no bounds) Harry suggested we hit Office Depot to see about a docking station. 

I'd looked at stations before and thought one thing: too freakin' expensive.   But he insisted and I like to look at pens (yup, I'm a geek of maximum proportions) so I agreed.  As per our usual shopping arrangement, Harry trips off toward the electronics and I find a comfy chair to peruse the advertisement.   Not more than five minutes had passed before Harry came running toward me carrying a very large box tethered with a security wire.

He launched into Summerspeak, and I blinked wildly, trying to keep up:  "It'sthedockingstationIwantedtogetyou.  Theymarkeditwrong. Comeon, I'llshowyou!" and off he ran back down the aisle like a granny with too many coupons on Senior discount day.

"See?" he gingerly sat down the box and covertly removed the large yellow sign that was covering the correct price.  It was marked wrong.

"Should I fight for it?"  Harry asked me while beads of perspiration popped up on his hairy upper lip.   He was excited.  A good deal for him was like a Meth addict happening upon a crate of discarded Sudafed.  

"Yup, I'll come with you. For back up, or something," I said and followed him as he ran toward the cashier.

"That'll be $249.99," the man said, clad in his red shirt and Office Depot lanyard. 

"The sign said $129.99," Harry pointed out, one large hand perched on his kill, I mean, laptop converter.  I could see my husband tense up, ready to dash back to the aisle and the mis-priced price.

"Oh, okay.  $129.99 you said?"  And just like that - it was ours. 

We ran out of there like a paying Bonnie and Clyde.

"That was too easy," Harry said, looking more than a little pleased with his bargaining skills.

"Yup,"  I agreed.  "Now let's go buy me those shoes!"

Space Bar Hi-jinx!

I really do like my new Sony Vaio- it's great... only - the space bar has to be pressed in the middle in order for it to take.  My hands are tiny, so when I type I tend to hit just the far right of the bar.  So most of my sentences are starting to look like my sis' dialogue:

Like right nowI'm trying totype very fast and not have to worry about hittingthe spacebarand thedarn thing doesn't want to work!  Grrrrr!

Okay - but other than that and the tinny speakers - I'm very happy - especially since my old HP laptop would freeze up if I moved it.

I Googled my spacial (tee hee) problem and found TONS of comments like this:

...and the space bar has to be pressed in the middle (I popped off the space bar and put a slice of a pencil eraser on the button.. fixed the problem!).

So, I guess I'm off to find an old pencil!   Sigh... The things we do for "easy" technology...

--Holly!

Summer and Holly go to Burger King

Last night while lying in bed in my pj's of Old Navy Sweatshirt and boxer shorts, I realized something. I was hungry. 

I wanted - a Whopper.

So I did what any not-so-single gal would do at 11PM on a Wednesday Evening.

I called my sister, "I'm in need of a Whopper. I'm coming to get you.  I'll be there in ten minutes.  Be ready."  Idle chit chat was not needed when one was craving an all-beef patty, flame-grilled and piled up with enough artery-clogging goodies to make even the hardiest Texan faint.  

Pulling up to my parents' two story Colonial-esque home I noticed something odd.  Behind the wheel of my father's 1971 Ranchero was a fuzzy-looking blob. My sister's hair is a bit poofy so I assumed she was just hanging out in dad's car - for some reason. 

On closer inspection, as I nudged my Denali closer to the front of the Crayola blue car-truck,I saw that it was not, in fact, my curly-headed sister but a teddy bear - wearing a tutu, helming the Ranchero.

I laughed so hard I about rearended my sister's Neon- and then - my sister as she rounded the front of my car.  

"Wherearewegoing?" she asked in one breath and then glanced at my bra-less outfit, "Obviouslyadrivethru."

"I must have a Whopper," I said, ignoring her comment about my chosen fashion for the evening. 

She agreed and we set off to the lovely Huntington Mall area only to find out - Burger King was closed. 

"Doyouwanttogototheotherone?" She asked, yawning and rubbing her head.  We both suffer from migraines and she was working on her third day and I my fifth. 

"Yup, I'm on a mission," I said and took off down Route 60 like a bat outta hell... seeking a burger.

It was closed.

"This is RIDICULOUS!" I yelled, "It's like we're stuck in that movie, 'Harold and Kumar go to White Castle!  I just want a cheeeeeeeseburger!"

"Thatwasafunnymovie..." Summer said and then asked "Is there another Burger King?"

"There is one," I said ominously.

Crossing my fingers (which is not easy to do while driving) we headed toward the campus of Marshall University.   We could see the lights from a block away - they were open!

We giggled and laughed as we placed our order and thoroughly entertained (or annoyed) the wait staff.  I pealed away from the window, clutching our stinky bag of greasy food and pulled over.

"Hey, let'sgoupthehill - I'llshowyouthathouseIwant," Summer said.  She's dying to move out of mom and dad's house - who wouldn't be?- and found a house for sale in a questionable neighborhood in Huntington.

"Turnhere!" she squealed as I struggled to turn the wheel, grasp my precious burger and follow her tiny, shoestring-like pointer finger. 

"Thereitis! Thethirdhouse!"  I peered down the darkened brick street and could see - nothing.  I turned down the hill and although I was a little worried about getting stuck, I continued my quest to see the house of my sister's dreams.

The tiny little white house with black shutters sat atop a tiny hill, flocked on either side with basically well-kept homes.  The steep steps had a lovely white pipe handrail and two pine trees on either side of the front door. 

"It's a crackhouse," I said.

"It'snot! It'scheapandtheneighborhoodisokayand - well - there'safullbasement-"

"For the Meth lab?" I interjected with a giggle, "And LEAD PAINT?!" 

She pouted.

"Nope, we're just gonna get you an Airsteam Trailer and stick it out front of Mom and Dad's house,"  I said as I tried to Wee-waw my way off the iddy-bitty street.

"I'mbuyingthehouse," she said stubbornly.

"Oh, really? Does the crack come with it for free?" I joked.

I really do hope she gets a house, one more year of living with the 'rents and someone's gonna end up as Lifetime Movie of the Week!

 

Picture this, Canaan 2007, On Top of a Mountain...

Since I was very excited to open my mailbox yesterday to find a lovely package from Gaz and a check for lil' ol' me for something I'd written - I decided to hop on here and display my jubilation by posting pictures! Whee!

Here is where we stayed in Canaan - "The Deerfield Inn and Resort":

This is the inside, I love the decorating look - it's like 1980's chic! 

This is the back deck:

I asked Harry to take a picture of my puzzle I'd worked all day on.   This was what he considered to be "appropriate" picture-takin' fun:

I have since started wearing that sweater with a tank top underneath.

It snowed just about everyday which led to some interesting ice skating moves in the parking lot:

Harry, Summer and Brian attempt to unhook those old-fashioned "nail puzzles."  After being in this adorable little store for a half hour, Harry and Brian managed to get them apart.  Summer and I gave up and started taking pictures:

The infamous fire:

Summer decided to bean Brian with a snowball as he emerged from the bathroom on Sunday morning:

And, to finish up, a picture of deer coming to check us out, a fire hydrant with a flag, a train not on the tracks and an evil snowman:

Okay, it's noon! I'm off to forrage for food! 

And to cash my check! Whoohoo!

Vacation Aftermath

Waking up from my post-vacation coma-like stupor I realized a few very important things:

1. I have no clean underwear.

2. I have no clean towels.

3.  I have no food in the house.

So, as I pulled my Triscuit Snack Pack out of the back of the fridge, opened it, sniffed it to make sure it had not morphed into a foul-smelling green glob, and then promptly dropped it on to my "holy-crap-I-need-to-mop" floor.  I'm sad to admit that I then lunged for it as my bottom jiggled in my panties-less shorts and my hair dripped from not being towel dried.  It was then that I realized something else.

I am really gross. 

But my Triscuit, once I blew it off, was really good.

:)

How Horrible to have a Typoe.

I just read this article on AOL about a town replacing their sign that had a really old typo on it:

Updated:2007-03-09 12:34:28

Town Fixes Sign With 20-Year-Old Typo

AP

HAGERSTOWN, Md. (March 8) - The city of Hagerstown corrected a municipal spelling error Thursday, 20 years after committing it. A sign directing drivers to "Municpal Stadium" was replaced with one displaying the proper spelling, Erik Kline, city traffic control supervisor, said.

The sign was first placed at the corner of Frederick Street and East Memorial Boulevard in the mid- to late 1908s, but the error went uncorrected until Hagerstown's Herald-Mail brought it to City Hall's attention this week, prompted by a reader's complaint.

Kline said the longtime tolerance for the misspelled sign doesn't reflect poorly on the western Maryland city of 38,000.

"I think it was a mistake that was made. I don't know that it necessarily makes us look bad," Kline said.

Copyright 2007 The Associated Press. The information contained in the AP news report may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or otherwise distributed without the prior written authority of The Associated Press. All active hyperlinks have been inserted by AOL.

03/08/07 17:32 EST

 

Wow - a twenty year old typo from the "mid-to late 1908's" - wow.

And that, folks, is the true definition of Irony, when a story about a glaring typo contains a typo itself!

Or like when my friend Stacey was almost run over by a van that sped through a Stop sign, only to turn and see the bumper sticker as it zoomed by: "Warning! This vehicle makes constant stops!"

 

 

 

Home, Home on the Range!

Friday, I rushed into my house, Harry trailing behind me, found my beloved feline and swooped her up for a well-deserved hug.  Pulling back, I looked into her slightly watery eyes and she stared back at me equally as lovingly.

And sneezed.

Kitty mucus lined my right eye and glistened from under my nose.  

She missed me!

And to prove the point, she threw up twice that night just to make sure we knew how much we were missed!  Ah!  Isn't animal ownership just divine?

And now for my post-Mountaintop report:

Arriving at the seafoam green carpeted cabin condo I was happy to find a fireplace, a  washer and dryer and two decks. However, the tv lacked foodnetwork and the only place to get an internet signal was while parked in front of a mediocre restaraunt down the road.  We would've gone IN to the dining establishment to eat but it seems that the area is notorious for closing whenever they feel like it - so when the dinner rush ended at 6PM - so the doors did close.

We entertainined ourselves by starting fires in the fireplace which just about led to the annialation of my marriage when Harry about self-destructed when he was unable to get a flame going.  I intervened and we were renamed, "Holly the Firestarter" and "Harry the Firekeeper."  We city kids built three fires.  But that fireplace will never be the same...

I also found out that my version of "cold as hell" and the mountainfolk's version of "cold" were two entirely different things.  While I piled on my wool Coach scarf. red leather gloves and a brown tweed coat to face the elements, the natives threw on a hat and a fleece and were fine and dandy.  Needless to say, I stuck out like a sore, tweed-covered, thumb.

One day, while preparing to drive to Thomas, WV to partake in the vittles of the "Flying Pig" my sister and her beau (they drove up last weekend) and I were piling on our coats while Harry went outside to shovel the walk. A few minutes later, he limped in the door, bleeding from his hand and covered with mud.  He'd slid on one of the many ice patches that were right outside our door and had laid in the snow, yelling for us to come rescue him. 

"Didn't you hear me yelling?" he asked as he cradled his bruised butt cheek.

"No," I admitted sheepishly as I stripped his pants to look for, ahem, bruising. "I was watching 'Aquamarine' for the third time on HBO."

I started my new job as Editor of the VoiceboxX- and so far I've gotten free lunch twice, killed a spider that threatened my boss and figured out that I really like the girls I work with.  So, all's good there...  

Today I've spent wandering around this house, waiting for Harry to take all the good bits off of my old laptop that locked up when I moved it (which, ya know, defeats the purpose of having a laptop computer) and moved all of my folders to my new Sony Vaio - which still has XP on it - not Vista.   I've yet to convert to the Vista-lovers society.  Give me a bit - say - two years or so...

Pictures to follow shortly!

Oh - and on another note - I've lost all of my journal links!

Yup - so - please either send me an email to h0llyk911@aol.com or leave me a comment with your links!  I can't NOT know what's going on in yer'all's lives!

Happy to be back in Civilization,

Holly!