I Love Technology

CPT Fromage and I aren’t really… techy. For example, when we moved to our first home we decided it was time to get a respectable TV and retire the bulky TV/DVD combo I got at K-Mart when I moved out of my parents’ house. With a lot of help from the guy at Best Buy, we ended up with a decent (but not too big) flat screen. We decided we’d use some store credit we had to get a surround sound system to go along with it. Because the DVD player we had was a small, purple thing that cost less than $20 at Wal-Mart (another purchase of mine) we needed to upgrade that as well to make the sound system work. The guy at Best Buy tried to show us a Bluray player, and we scoffed! “We’ll stick with DVD, if you please!” We had so much money sunk into our DVD collection; no way were we going to throw that all away to start over with this “blu ray” crap…

We applauded ourselves for our responsible decision, that is until my sister and her husband (who are both very techy) got a new entertainment set up. They showed us the quality of their new Blu ray player, “Yeah, it looks great, but we didn’t want to start our movie collection all over. That’s just stupid.” That’s when my BIL broke it to us. For those of you who don’t know this… You can watch DVDs on a Blu ray player. Yep. True story. (I wish we’d mentioned our reasoning for the DVD player to the employee at Best Buy, he’d have saved us this whole situation!)

For his next birthday, CPT Fromgae got a Blueray player. And we love it. Even though it took us 4 years to jump on that bandwagon.

We also finally upgraded to…

A wireless printer. Actually, that could even be “a printer” as a general term. Yep, we can finally scan and print from the comfort of our own home!

Smart phones. Last year, before CPT Fromage deployed, I got an iPhone. Mostly because all of our communication would be electronic and I wanted to be able to check email and facebook and use Skype on the go. CPT Fromage’s phone, which he’s had longer than his wedding band, is on its last leg, so he’ll be joining the rest of society next week. No longer will he be the ridicule of his friends and coworkers!

A Gaming System. For Christmas this year, I got a Wii. Of course, it’s no longer the cutting edge system to own, but we’ve had a blast playing Mario Kart, even if everyone else has been enjoying theirs since 2006.

DVR. We don’t actually have it just yet, but when the installation guy comes to our new apartment, he’s bringing the box. Hooray for being able to record all of our favorite Food Network shows that we miss because they come on past our bedtime!

What next? Will we finally update the maps on our GPS systems, which are still using information from prior to 2008? Stay tuned to find out!

Sawing Logs

First of all, thanks for the congrats! It’s nice to know I’ve still got a few readers out there!

Now, on to today's post…

I have one super-sexy quality: I snore. Don’t hate, not everyone can be this awesome.
I’ve always been a snorer, my younger sister used to claim I’d kept her up at night in our shared room. Later in life, roommates would pick on my loud Zs. But apparently, according to CPT Fromage, I “never used to snore before we got married” I tell him I just kept a lid on it long enough to snag him, but he’s trapped now, so let the fun resume! The snores are back in full force these days, sometimes so loud and violent (can snores be violent?) that I wake myself up!

In some instances, my snoring can be more embarrassing than others… Like when I let ‘em rip at the couples’ massage CPT Fromage and I treated ourselves to for Valentine’s Day. Look, rub my feet and calves and I’m out. I can’t help it!

Don’t worry too much for CPT Fromage because I am not only a super-sexy-snoring wife, but also a super thoughtful one, so I spend a lot of money on Breathe Right Strips. These things make me even sexier (can it be so?), even though they don’t totally eliminate my sound of sleep. I know that when my gentle snores wake CPT Fromage in the dead of night, he must roll over and gaze lovingly upon his resting wife… My hair a mess, raccoon eyes from unremoved eyeliner and a plastic strip across my nose; I know what he’s thinking: “I’m one lucky guy”. Or maybe he’s contemplating smothering me with a pillow, who knows.

Sometimes my snoring is a good weapon to have in my arsenal. When CPT Fromage and I have a lover’s quarrel near bedtime I have this up my sleeve…

“Yeah, well, I’m going to take off my Breathe Right Strip tonight!”

Although it would probably be more effective if I wasn’t shouting it from downstairs on the couch.

The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round

I don’t like public transportation. I grew up in a town of 112, so, as you can imagine, there wasn’t much need for taxis and such. Even after growing up and moving away, I never did hop on a bus, hail a cab or set foot on a subway. The longer I went without trying it, the more frightening the idea became. Then, when I was 23, newly engaged to LT Fromage and spending New Year’s Eve with my friend, Pat, I did it. I rode the light rail. Not because I wanted to, but because Pat lived near the station and we opted to avoid traffic and possible DUIs. When it came down to actually using public transportation, I decided I would have preferred risking the DUI.

I hate crowds. I hate not being in control. Droves of people crammed into a fast-moving bus-train thing that stops, well, who knows where it stops! certainly not when I want it to stop, and heaven forbid I have to actually change busses…. What the eff was I thinking? Of course, the boys thought it was a wonderfully funny game to “forget” what stop we needed to get off, or what route we would take to get home. Thanks, fellas.

After the night out, there were tens of thousands of people waiting to get back on the light rail. Why? I sure didn’t want back on! But we waited. A little drunk and among more people than I’d ever seen in my life, a fight broke out right beside us. The boys thought it was exciting. I found myself sitting on the wet, dirty curb, rocking and covering my ears until it was over.

Yes. Totally sitting on the curb, covered with vomit, gum, dirt. Eyes squeezed shut, plugging my ears and rocking back and forth.

I don’t do well in crowds. I don’t do well when I’m not in control. I don't do well on busses.

Eff public transportation.

Another Poop Post

You know those once-in-a-lifetime dogs? The ones you never forget, and you're only lucky enough to have once? Satchel was that dog; sadly we had to put him to sleep just over a year ago. We still talk about him often in the Fromage household, usually in the context of picking on our current dogs, Erika and Buford, requesting that they be more like their predecessor. (For instance, Saturday morning, when I went downstairs to find trash strewn about, “Why can’t you guys just be more like Satchel? He didn’t pull this kind of $H!T!”)


It’s hard to narrow down the best thing about Satchel. Was it his wrinkly face that one could smoosh into utter cuteness? His ability to be so loving and gentle with everyone, puppies, babies and strangers, but ready to tear someone’s face off if they messed with his mamma ? Was it because he could be trusted with the run of the house and not get into trouble? The ever so gentle way he took food from your hand, using his lips so not to accidently nibble a finger? Was it his seeming ability to understand exactly what you were saying to him?

Those things were all wonderful, but the thing we miss most about Satchel? His pooping.


Yes, his pooping.

Satchel loved to poop and we loved how excited he was after he pooped. We think this stemmed from his younger days when we were housetraining. Since I was in an apartment at that time and had no yard, I was right there with Satchel, on the other end of the leash every single time he successfully pooped outside and boy would we celebrate when he did! Treats! Jumping! Exclaiming “Hooray! Satchel! Hooray! Good job, boy!”! I’m sure all of the other residents in the complex thought I was nuts, but it worked. He was housetrained in record time and the sense of pride and accomplishment he felt after pooping stayed with him for years to come. Even as an adult dog, then limited to the use of only 3 legs, he would finish his business and take off into a full sprint! Wagging, running and celebrating! (Although, Erika was trained the same way, but does not derive the same joy from this activity...)

We could watch him in the back yard, running until he met the fence, and on walks LT Fromage would take the leash and as Satchel finished, the boys would together run for blocks as I cleaned up what had warranted such excitement.

Satchel’s favorite place to poop was Home Depot.


About a year after Satchel came along, I bought a house. Home owners spend a lot of time at Home Depot, which happens to be dog friendly (perhaps no longer, after Satchel left his mark…).

Satchel often joined me running errands on weekends.


I always made him potty before we left the house. Really, I tried to prevent it.


As soon as we entered the store, Satchel scouted for the perfect place to poop; a long, empty aisle. The moment I became distracted he would hunch over…

Then he would run! A big, brown, wrinkly, 3-legged dog flailing about on the end of his leash (Or sometimes, if he was lucky, slipping out of his collar to dash up and down the aisles) as I bagged the pile he was so proud of.

Every. Single. Time.

They must have come to know us at that Home Depot. “Here comes that girl and her crazy dog… Get the hose out, boys…”

We miss you, Satch. See you on the other side. I hope they have Home Depot in heaven.

Happy New Year!

Is it 2011 already? So many things happened in 2010, here’s a quick recap:

Launched this very blog and found myself 27 followers. Thanks, folks! You really brighten my day with your comments!

Acquired some new furry (and slimy) family members. Toby the cat, Clarence the frog, Mr. Clean the snail and a multitude of rats.

Weaned 2 rat babies, one from 2 weeks old, the other from just 8 days old!

LT Fromage and I celebrated our first anniversary; we went to Kansas City, ate some stale cake and fell even more in love (insert sappy awwww, here).

Hosting our very first Thanksgiving, for both families!, went off without a hitch!

Battled a house full of fleas, which included bathing 2 dogs, 3 cat baths and hours of flea spray and vacuuming. Fromages: 1, Fleas: 0!

Bought my first gun, learned to shoot and even completed a pistol course!

Began medical transcription training and made the Dean’s List (If anyone knows about a job opening for transcribing autopsy reports, hook a sister up, will you!)

Broke my diet soda addiction! (Smokers trying to quit: I feel for you) I’m down from 6 a day, to less than half that number in a week!

Drove back to Colorado to see a Rockies game (oh yeah, and the family, too)

On a solo drive back to CO for my sister’s bridal shower and blew a tire half way home. With both dogs in the car. On a Sunday. Drove a quarter of the way home on the spare tire at 55mph.

Stood as Matron of Honor at my little sissy’s wedding, where I found out my new brother-in-law’s grandma could drop it down lower than any of us young ‘uns!

And so, so much more. I wish I could list it all!

Upcoming in 2011, be sure to check out my new blog (don’t worry, it’s an addition, not a replacement), 365 Days in Pictures – a photographic journey. And, as always, keep checking in here for more Fromageness!

New Year’s Resolutions I Will (probably not) Keep

I will not let the gas light come on in the truck (Ironhide). Also, I will not keep driving when said light does come on.

Yeah, right. 2011 will likely be the year I’m stranded on the side of the highway out of fuel.

I will stop eating Nutella out of the jar with my finger when I’m grumpy.

In 2011, I will use a spoon.

I will stop dropping into the pet store that has all the cute baby rats. I am not that strong.

Well…. Maybe just to look….

I will not judge people.

Much. Except bad drivers, bad dressers, bad parents, bad… er, ok, this one may be hard to keep…

I will grow up and stop sleeping with stuffed animals.

Except Sir Loin and the Petite Sir Loin. And the other cows when LT Fromage is gone. But all others will stay out of the bed.

I will not use duct tape as a fashion item; even though it is designed for holding things together, the things held together should not be my pants.

I will learn to bake. And while doing so, I will try very, very hard not to catch the house on fire or add a little crunch to brownies with a splintered wooden spoon.

I will lose the last….

Oh forget it. No weight loss resolutions. I’ll mess that one up before I finish this post!

I will take a picture a day for 365 Days in Pictures.

Ok, I actually plan to really really try hard to do this one. Check out my new website devoted to my year in photos.

What are your resolutions?

Active Imagination

Growing up, I had an imaginary friend; he was a horse named Acorn (But not the Black Stallion kind, more like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. He walked on two legs; the back ones of course, wore clothes and could talk, even though no one but me ever heard him). Actually, Acorn had a whole family which mirrored mine (except he was a boy with a brother, and I a little girl with a sister), they even adopted another imaginary horse at exactly the same time my family adopted a little girl! Hm. Coincidence?

Acorn and his family must have moved somewhere along the line, or stayed behind when my family packed up. I’m not sure where Acorn is now, but I hope he finds himself doing well; perhaps even settled down with a nice imaginary female version of himself raising little imaginary foals.

I count myself lucky for having such an active imagination. Creativity, being left brained, whatever it is, most of the time it’s pretty cool. Except when I’m trying to sleep.

“Count sheep” everyone tells you. Ah, well, would if I could, but I can’t. Those darn sheep take on a life of their own you see.

Sheep number one, wearing a blue blanket with a big yellow numeral prances in, easily hops the fence.

(Why on earth am I keeping my sheep in a pasture with a fence they can so easily jump? I should do something about that… Maybe if I wasn’t so busy sewing all of their numbered vests…)

Sheep numbers 2 through, oh, about 7, are all well calm and relaxing, leisurely bouncing over my wooden boundary. But then it gets a little out of control. By the time we are in the double digits, too many sheep have decided to jump at once and I’m having a difficult time keeping up. Somewhere in the teens, someone always misses the jump and then a real chaos begins as he’s trampled by a flock of rushing sheep. Everyone is out of order, of course. “Get up, number 17! Hurry! Wait, 14, 22, 37 and 41 just went by, but how many have actually escaped now? Oh dear!”

I’ve given up on counting sheep. Know what else helps you sleep? Over the counter pills. No livestock involved.

My Favorite Place to Stroke LT Fromage

Whoa, get your mind out of the gutter! *wink wink*

From the first time I saw it, I wanted to touch it, run my fingers through it, stroke it ever so gently. But I was too shy to ask so I just longed for it from afar.

Finally (and I really mean finally, this was well into our marriage!), I sought permission for what I’d dreamed of for so long…

“Hun, could I please touch your arm pit hair?”

He of was confused, of course, as I’m sure many of you are also, but he let me. And oh, it was glorious! Long and silky, I stroked it and stroked it.

Before he deploys, I think I’ll snip a bit off to keep for myself, so with or without him, I can indulge in running my fingers along it’s silky softness.

Now you all know my armpit hair fetish.

And you thought I was weird before....

There are Always Consequences

(Photo credits not mine. D@MN I forgot to bring my camera. You get the idea…)

Last night we had to make a quick wal-mart run. Yeah. We shop at wal-mart. Don’t bother trying to tell me why it’s wrong, and I already know it’s kind of white trash, but I’m all about saving a few bucks. So sue me. No, really, don’t. Please. I haven’t saved enough bucks to make it worth your time, I promise!

Anyway.

LT Fromage and I were both in sort of silly moods. This is actually normal for us, so I’m not sure why I feel the need to mention it. The crazies were probably intensified just a little by the beer he had at supper, and the glass (er, 3) of wine I had before we left.

*easily distracted this morning. bear with me*

LT Fromage insisted on pushing the cart. Usually I like to push, but he got it first (wrestled it away from me). Near the end of our list, we passed by the electronics department where LT Fromage began grazing the displays with our cart. Why? “Because I can’t do it in the car! Here there are no consequences!”

He hadn’t even finished his statement when he totally plowed over a printer and ink display!

Which I’m saddened to see doesn’t seem as funny in type as it did when it happened. But trust me, it was uh-mazing!

We laughed like kids while we scrambled to reassemble the stuff we knocked down before this overweight, waaaaay to serious wal-mart employee comes running (well, as fast as he could run. More like a brisk walk) “Is everyone ok?!” LT Fromage assured him we were fine, I was too busy laughing like a hyena to answer. “Are you sure? Do we need to file a report?”

Do tell, what would that report say?

“We were sideswiped by a gray cart, we didn’t get a plate number but it appeared
to be a male driving. They pushed us into this display and then fled the scene.
No medical assistance was necessary at the time. No property damage was
sustained (we put it all back… wrong, I’m sure, but we tried) and the cart seems
to be running fine, despite the accident”

I guess you had to be there.

Ah, I love being married.

TMI?

Remember, you only have until tomorrow to leave a comment about your favorite holiday tradition to be in the drawing for The Rebel Housewife Rules!

We’re all friends here, right? I feel like I can share this story with you. As you'll see, I shared much more with many I knew much less.



I get a certain area of my body waxed. I won’t tell you which area I’m talking about, but I’m sure you can use your imagination (I’ll give you a hint – it’s not my under arms).

Before I begin my story you must know that I am a cheapskate. Also, at that time in my life, I was broke, making money saving a must, not a hobby. I found an aesthetician school that would wax off my unwanted hair for, get this, twenty bucks, which was significantly less than the $80 (plus tip) I was paying elsewhere.

Of course I made an appointment right away. Duh. (Who's said that in the last 10 years?)

Normally, this sort of thing takes, oh, twenty or thirty minutes. I allowed an hour, since it would be a supervised student instead of a pro. But a little extra time was no big deal; I was saving $60+!

Boy, were they happy to see me come in the door! As I signed in, this question was proposed:

“We don’t get a lot of people requesting this particular treatment…. Would you mind if we were to let a few students observe?”

My answer should have been H3LL no. But, caught off guard, I sort of, well, said yes! As long as my ______ (fill in the blank) was on display anyway, might as well make it a learning experience!

As it turns out, it’s pretty awkward for your lady bits to be discussed in detail to a room of a dozen students (oops, I gave it away!). Also, the process will take a minimum of two hours, and will hurt worse than a blow torch up your @$$. They weren’t kidding when they told me those students didn’t get much practice down there. I could tell.

Basically, I cried in pain for the longest 120 minutes of my life in front of a dozen barely-out-of-high schoolers who poked, prodded and inspected my nether region. All to save a few bucks.

Lesson learned: Sometimes, it’s worth spending the extra money. In this case, I’m pretty sure they should have paid me. Isn’t that normally how it works when you want to see someone else’s bits and pieces?

What's Your Favorite Holiday Tradition?

Just a reminder to leave a comment with your favorite holiday tradition to be entered to win the give away!

I’d like to share a little excerpt from The Rebel Housewife Rules (the book that you could win!), something I found especially noteworthy, since this was, as a matter of fact, a discussion (er, argument) that LT Fromage and I had early in our marriage…

From the chapter, “Happily Ever After”

The Myth: Combining two separate lives will be a snap

My new husband will be so thoughtful, so in love with me. He
won’t care when I borrow his things, like his razor. I’m always out of blades,
and I love the foaming bubbles his shaving cream makes – oh those gloriously
smooth legs! Sleeping in his dress shirt feels so good; it will keep me close to
him when he’s out of town. Somehow I never have any socks, but not to worry,
I’ll just wear his.

The Reality: His and mine don’t always make ours

After I used his shaving kit, he emerged from the bathroom looking like
a doctor had just removed shrapnel from his face. I felt bad, but I pretended
not to notice.

“Where’s my new dress shirt? I need it for an interview
tomorrow.”

“Ummm…. Is this the one?” I tried to look especially sexy as I pointed
to what I was wearing to bed.

“Vik, come on! I have no socks, no razors, no shaving cream…. I have to
be manly on a fluffy, pink, flowered couch and now I have nothing to wear to
work!”

I still do use LT Fromage’s razor (with permission. He got a new one), but I did stop borrowing his socks.

Be sure to leave a comment (You have until FRIDAY) with your favorite holiday tradition to be entered to win a copy of The Rebel Housewife Rules: To Heck With Domestic Bliss.

Lady Fromage Give Away!

Drumroll please…

Get ready for....

The very first Lady Fromage give away!

Rebel Housewife Rules: To Heck With Domestic Bliss [Paperback]

by Sherri Caldwell and Vicki Todd

Here's what Amazon.com has to say:

“The Rebel Housewife Rules is a whole new set of rules for today’s housewives. The book contains 38 short chapters—four pages each—because that is about all that a mom can read locked in the bathroom with a three-year-old while the dog vomits outside the door.
Each chapter:

• Exposes a myth about being a housewife: "Compared to an outside career, taking care of a house and family—and myself—will be a breeze."

• Reveals the reality behind the myth: "My husband comes home to a disheveled wife, a disaster of a house, and laundry all over the stairs."

• Lays down a new rule: "Your day will never go as planned."

• And offers a rule Rx, a prescription for real domestic happiness: "Be proud of your most important accomplishments every day."

Following the often hilarious adventures and advice of Rebel Housewives Sherri Caldwell and Vicki Todd, readers learn to be themselves, get what they want, and love in new and deeper ways. Sherri and Vicki share their hard-won wisdom in this "survivors’ guide" to momhood, housecleaning, budgets, self-care, and love after kids and babies. Bottom line? Happiness is more important than passing the white-glove test.

In The Rebel Housewife Rules, the recently engaged, new brides, or long-married wives find the courage to live by the greatest housewife rule of all: "Live, Love, and Laugh, one day at a time, baby."

You can (and should!) check out Sherri's blog here.

This book is freakin’ awesome, ladies (Sorry, any gentleman readers. This may not be up your alley). I’m lovin’ my copy and want to share one with a lucky reader, all you have to do is leave a comment and tell me your favorite Holiday Tradition! (Mine is eating cold pizza on Christmas morning).

A winner will be randomly picked on Friday. Tell your friends, that is, unless you don’t want to lower your odds of winning this great little book!

Livin’ the Dream

Some years ago, I purchased a cow shaped cookie cutter. If you don’t know it by now, I love cows. However, I don’t love cookies as much as I do cows, at least not sugar cookies (the only ones that really hold their shape. I tried making cow chocolate chip cookies…. Fail.) But last night, my dream became reality, we finally made cow cookies (and I didn’t burn the house down in the process!)!

I rolled out the dough, cut lots of little bovines and baked away until their little toes turned golden brown. Once they cooled, we iced. I even bought black decorating icing and those fancy little tips (which didn’t fit, by the way; we ended up squirting icing into sandwich bags and cutting the corner off. Resourcefulness: just one of my many gifts.) I even went so far as to buy little pearl sprinkles for eyes. Hardcore? Maybe; but I’ve been waiting for this day for quite some time.

LT Fromage decorated his cows with red and green spots, since he was in a festive mood (er, I was hogging the black icing).

Santa’s not the only one who likes cookies and milk, so when LT Fromage finished his snack we poured some leftover milk into a cat-sized mug for Toby, who sat on the cow rug and helped finish off dad’s drink. Before we finished up, we carefully made 5 dime-sized cookies for the rats (The Ladies). The dogs didn’t get to partake in the festivities. Sorry, guys.

Giant snowflakes and tiny twinkle lights are hanging and the garland, nativity and stockings will soon emerge too. Best of all? LT Fromage suggested we go pick out our tree… THIS WEEKEND. Shocked? You should be! This comes from the man who grew up in a family who was getting their pine on Christmas-freakin’-eve! I, the polar opposite, erected my fake greenery as early as November 1st when I was a single lady. I thought this gesture was a peace offering since I slept on the couch the night before, but in fact, it’s due to his work schedule; this being the only weekend we can go unless we want to pick up a scraggly tree a few days before the holiday. Whatever the reason, we get the tree this weekend, and I can’t wait!

And finally,

I started Twittering. Yeah, they got me. Be sure to follow me (on the side bar to your right) so you can get updates on my super exciting life every time anything semi-awesome happens. C’mon, you know you want to!

Lite-Brite, Lite-Brite, Turn on the magical shining light!

Last week LT Fromage and I took a beginners pistol class. LT Fromage was kind enough to tell me when we arranged it “I’m sure there are things I can learn,” but of course there weren’t. I think he may have actually outshot the instructor, but I had a good time and discovered that I am actually a better one handed shooter than I am when I use both hands. Who knew? Anyway, I got to wear my pink earmuffs, shoot some paper plates and see some cows in the adjacent field and all in all we had a fun day out.

But what does this have to do with a lite-brite? (I know you’re thinking “Where the eff is she going with this story?”)

We had a mega long lunch break, and after we hit up our favorite burger place we still had an hour before class resumed. During that time LT Fromage got a hair cut while I bought yet another pair of sunglasses (our German shepherd keeps eating them) and a cow pen that moos when you push on his head.

So far, there were already multiple high points of this day:

1. Sharing a mid-week day off with LT Fromage. Extra fun because we were shooting

2. The NRA teacher was named Myron Calhoun, which is pretty much a FREAKIN’ AWESOME NAME, right? And he was totally this cute little old man with a big old stocking cap! He even wore a huge name tag, even though we were the only 2 people in his class. Too cute! I have a thing for little old men. We’ll talk about that another time.

3. Lunch at So Long, which included fried pickles and a green chili “burger” with onion rings

4. The above mentioned cow pen. Which totally makes me look like a 6 year old but who gives a D@MN (Using bad words helps me not feel like a kid. Kids can't sware.) Also I got a pink cow eraser. Score!

On our way back to class after the eternal lunch break, we stopped at this funky second hand shop. There it was: The lite-brite. (I told you it was coming)

Pretty much the coolest toy ever. Except maybe Little People. I have a deep rooted love for those, too.

I went a little crazy when I saw it. Ok, more than a little. I may have caused a bit of a scene. But, c’mon, it’s a lite-brite! Who doesn’t remember this from their childhood? I’ll tell you who. LT Fromage.

Boy, he missed out!

I probably should have bought it (It was only ten bucks!) so he could try it out; that is, if I could share it long enough for him to have a turn.

So if you’re in the mood for some lite-brite fun now, because I sure am, I found a website where you can play lite-brite for free. It's not quite the same, but at least it means I won’t be digging those little pegs out of sofa cushions.

If you’ve got an urge for Little People now, well, you’re on your own.

100 Things

I’m speechless (Not really. I’m never speechless), this is my 100th post. In honor of this mile stone, here are 100 things. Not really related things, funny or impressive things, but 100 things none the less.

My list of 100 things.

1. My highest score in solitaire is 735. Which is the highest possible score. NBD
2. I can reach 97 WPM with 97% accuracy
3. I can hold my breath for 1:14
4. Jolly Ranchers always give me hiccups
5. I love grilled cheese sandwiches with sliced jalapeños
6. Or onion and tomato
7. Or dipped in ranch dressing
8. Pretty much anything can be dipped in ranch dressing for that matter
9. I was home schooled until my senior year of high school
10. When I was a little girl, I had an imaginary friend, a horse named Acorn
11. I broke my left ring finger in high school and set it myself, it still bothers me when it’s cold out
12. I love Splenda
13. I add red pepper to hot chocolate, it’s so yummy
14. I’m terrified of earth worms
15. When I was little, I killed a butterfly in a jar using a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, even though my mom pleaded with me not to
16. I’ve had a stereo stolen from my car and my house broken into twice
17. I worked in an animal shelter where I had to euthanize peoples unwanted pets, I quit working there when I realized I had stopped feeling sad about them dying
18. Ringo is my favorite Beatle
19. I carry 3 types of anxiety medications at all times
20. I starred in the spring musical my senior year in high school (Once Upon A Mattress)
21. I was awarded “Most Improved Dancer” by the cast
22. My favorite color is green
23. I have prosopagnosa (face blindness)
24. I burp when I yawn
25. I read really, really fast
26. I’m not sure if I believe in ghosts, but I am sure that if they’re real, there are some in my house
27. My favorite number is 27
28. I always tip at least 20%
29. I have giant feet, some of my shoes are size 10 ½ wide
30. I had to buy men’s hiking boots because they don’t make women’s that fit me
31. I can’t hike anymore because of patella femoral syndrome in my right knee
32. I love cemeteries, I find them peaceful not creepy
33. However, I do have an abnormal fascination with death
34. I love the old Window’s Entertainment Pack with Chip’s Challenge, Rodent’s Revenge and Tetris
35. I hate the number 35
36. I bruise very easily. I’m afraid most people think LT Fromage must beat me at home
37. When I was little, I had a crush on the Nickelodeon cartoon character Doug
38. My favorite Starbucks drink is the pumpkin spice frappuccino, but when it’s out of season I order a caramel frappuccino with a half cream base
39. I have a paw print tattoo behind my right ear, in memory of all of my pets I’ve lost and the ones I’ve had to put down because there was no room left for another unwanted animal
40. I can fall asleep anywhere, any time. My parents used to think I had narcolepsy
41. I’m the oldest of 4 children, 2 of whom my parents adopted. I love my family so much
42. LT Fromage and I laugh all the time. I’ve never seen a couple who laughs so much and can be so silly, except maybe on TV
43. Last New Year’s Eve I caught our kitchen on fire making breakfast. The fire department had to come put it out
44. We now own a fire extinguisher
45. I love tanks and have a small collection of 1/144 scale miniatures
46. My favorite tank is the Stingray, but it was never mass produced
47. I’ve only been on public transportation once in my life and I was terrified
48. The Office is my favorite TV show
49. I’m also recently lovin’ Arrested Development
50. LT Fromage and I went to Sicily, Italy for our honeymoon, which was amazing except…
51. Our luggage was lost in Rome, so we didn’t have our things for the first day
52. Also, the water was out 50% of the time, so we only showered every other day
53. And we ended up sleeping on separate couches because the bed was so uncomfortable
54. I’m terrified of stopped school busses
55. I dated a guy who went to Annapolis, later married a man who graduated from West Point but was never involved with anyone from the Air Force Academy, despite living only an hour away, while the other schools are on the east coast
56. If while walking, an object is between me and my companion, I have to repeat the phrase “bread and butter” until we are no longer separated
57. I get nosebleeds when I’m nervous
58. I got two nosebleeds on our wedding day (one about 5 minutes before walking down the aisle. In my white dress. The second at the reception immediately before pictures)
59. I had nosebleeds all the time when we started getting frisky, which is a pretty good mood killer
60. I love diet Pepsi, but usually buy Sam’s Club brand diet soda. I won’t touch diet Coke with a 10 foot pole
61. Generations ago, my family owned the Coca Cola company
62. I once stole an Obama sign from a deli window and am guilty of removing an Obama bumper sticker in a parking lot on at least one occasion
63. I didn’t grow out of stuffed animals like my mom predicted I would. I still sleep with “Sir Loin”, a cow LT Fromage gave me for our first Christmas (He had no idea when he bought that cow that he’d be sleeping with it 3 years later)
64. I once ripped the seat of my pants dancing with my friend at a gay club
65. I also ripped the seat of my pants at a county fair while showing my dog
66. My current favorite pair of jeans are wearing thin in the bottom, so to prevent another rip I’ve duct taped them on the inside
67. I live by the phrase “If you can’t duck it, chuck it” (except sometimes I use another work that rhymes with duck)
68. The song “The Reason” by Hoopastank makes my ears hurt, much the same as nails on a chalk board does. Only worse
69. So does the sound of the new Sun Chips bag
70. I don’t believe in the territories
71. I also don’t believe in umami
72. I once cut off my own skin tag with nail clippers
73. I can’t swim
74. I had no idea it would be so hard to think of 100 things. Eff, what was I thinking?
75. My favorite color is green
76. I was raised Protestant, but converted a few years ago to Roman Catholic
77. I got to stay in a Monastery when I was in New York for LT Fromage’s graduation
78. At the present time LT Fromage and I own 2 dogs, 2 cats, 4 rats and a frog
79. Our older cat can sit, speak and roll over, the younger can speak and sit up to beg
80. I own and can shoot, disassemble, clean and reassemble my own gun (Ruger SR9c)
81. T-Rex is my favorite dinosaur
82. If it was socially acceptable, I would totally hole up in the house and never come out. Except to pick up an order of green curry (to go, of course) once in a while
83. I have to sleep with one leg out of the covers
84. I love stadium nachos and M&Ms. Yes, together
85. Blue M&Ms are my favorite, even though I think the Red M&M on the commercials is the best
86. My current favorite commercial is the Geico “Bird in the Hand” one
87. Or maybe the Skittles Tube Sock
88. Or the shake weight, because that is too crazy funny, and not on purpose
89. My birthday sometimes falls on national donut day, which is great, because I love donuts
90. I also love cheese, anything to do with cheese, and also green curry
91. I’ve read my favorite book, Life of Pi at least a dozen times
92. I basically live in my “Nothing Tips Like A Cow” hooded sweater
93. I’ve got a space heater with a remote, it’s set up so that I can turn it on to heat the bathroom before I even get out of bed in the morning
94. I’m a die-hard Colorado Rockies fan
95. I love cooking
96. But I can’t bake and always end up frustrated when I try
97. I live for Christmas and, before I was married, would bring out my (artificial) tree on November 1st
98. Now we wait until the first day of Advent and buy a real tree
99. I love antique stores
100. I hate funnel cake

Not What You'd Expect on a 3rd Date

I stayed out until 9:30 last night with my good friend, S, at our favorite Thai place. We were having a great time but both yawning so much we could hardly keep conversation. A fellow Army Wife, she goes to bed early too.

When LT Fromage and I met, he didn’t know I had such an early bed time (Of course, now he does too, and not because I made him. The Army makes him. Well, they make him get up long before 5AM, and really, that’s what makes him have an early bed time. Anyway...).

The first time we went out, he texted me at, oh, probably something like 7:30 or 8 to see if I wanted to go get a drink. I said sure, but I left out the part about needing to change out of my pajamas, put back on my makeup and “wake up”. See, I was actually turning off the light to go to bed when I got his message. When he said, “I’m eating with my family, I’ll be there after dinner. Say 9:30 or 10?” WFT? That was the middle of the night to me! Then I thought he was standing me up when I got there (but that's another story). Despite all that, we did go on another date.
And then this happened.

I fell asleep.

This is not to say that LT Fromage was a bad date. Or boring. Or I was having a lame time. Nope, I was just tired and it was past my bed time (of 8 o’clock) when we were watching Fever Pitch on my couch. Next thing I know, it’s morning and I’m waking up alone under my covers in last night’s blue jeans and sweater.

Poor LT Fromage said he tried to wake me, and when his multiple attempts failed (because I can sleep through anything, folks) he contemplated what to do next. Leave me on the couch? (Which actually would have been fine, I used to sleep on my couch more than my bed, but he had no idea. This was only our third date) No, that would be terrible. He carried me to my bedroom and weighed what to do next. He didn’t want to leave me in my uncomfortable daytime clothes, but if I woke up and found him rooting around in my dresser drawers, I would be P!$$ED. Ditto that for waking up to him removing my clothing. He made the decision to leave me as I was, pull a blanket over me up and lock up after himself.

And he totally asked me out again! Yeah! I know, right?

Besides on a 3rd date, other inconvenient times I’ve taken naps were: at a comedy show, at a concert and during a fire drill in college (where I was an RA, responsible for clearing my hall. Oops).

Adult Content

So LT Fromage has XM radio in his car, Beth. My truck is a 2004 so I’m stuck with the basics, AM, FM and CD player. Which is totally fine, but I do enjoy driving Beth sometimes because, among other stations, I can listen to Cosmo Radio.

Cosmo is pretty much my bible.

So a few months ago, while listening to this fabulous talk radio channel in LT Fromage’s car, an ad was played which offered a 25% discount code for a website which offered Cosmo’s Truth or Dare card game, which as soon as I learned of it had to have.

Upon returning home I immediately logged onto the website, which turned out to be strongly adult themed. NBD, I’ve seen the naked body before and I am a cheap wad so I wanted my discount. (This is why I love online shopping. No one has to know what you’re doing. Unless you later blog about it. Oops) Days came and went, my game arrived (Which, as is everything Cosmo cranks out, is fantastic) and life went on. Except that in addition to the game, I seem to have bought myself a life time of mailers from this adult website.

Now, every time I open my email there’s a “coupon code” or “special offer” from this website. For no real reason I once opened one of these messages, unfortunately it was while I was at work and I got a message explaining that some content of the page I was trying to view had been blocked… Oops.

It’s easy enough to delete a few emails without anyone being the wiser that I’ve got 3 or 4 porn messages in my inbox (Again, unless you blog about it. Eff) but the mailers are what are really getting to me.

A few times a month, a flashy envelope plastered with nude women posed provocatively but in such a way that covers just enough to allow these to go out in the mail. So now the post man thinks I’ve got some kind of fetish, I’m sure. It didn’t help that recently we received a package and our nice mailman came to the door to deliver it, bringing with him our mail. With a Play Boy special lying right on top. Some dark haired beauty, naked, of course, crawling under the HUGE wording, “LT Fromage, sign up now for a special offer! 1 year of Play Boy for $19.99!”

Normally our friends who live down the street watch our house and pets while we’re gone. They used to pick up our mail, too, but I’ve since stopped leaving the key for obvious reasons.

At least if I ever want to buy a blow-up fireman, I’m sure to have a catalog in the mail and discount code or two in my inbox…

*Normally I’d try to find a fitting picture to go with this post, but since I’m at work I’m not going to google image search this one.

I Used to Dance on the Street Corner...

I’m slightly embarrassed to admit LT Fromage and I may be going out this weekend. Part of me cries “Seriously! We are so too old for this…” but then the other part of me, the decision making part, says “Then what the hell did we buy those pirate costumes for?” We will not be tromping around door-to-door with pillow cases, however. We will be celebrating in the more adult fashion, like, at the bar. And then, on Sunday night we’ll be really adult and hand out candy to the neighbors’ kids. Last year we spend something like $796 dollars on candy (slight exaggeration) and had something like half a dozen costumed kids show up. We ate most of it, but our orange pumpkin bowl is still full of treats, the picked over ones, of course; I think there’s only Twizzlers and Pixy Stix left. I actually quite enjoy the latter, but they are likely not very good 12 months after the purchase date…

This year, I picked up a bag of peanut M&Ms (funny story about those….*), Reeses and Kit Kats. Also some hokey chocolate balls with eye ball wrappers and chocolate coins with pumpkin wrappers. Basically, things that, if not sought after by 9-year-olds, will be enjoyed by LT Fromage and myself. Mostly myself. Especially the Reeses. Which I may or may not have been snacking on….

*When I was a very little Fromage, my grandma gave me my first peanut M&Ms, until that time I’d only ever seen the standard ones. My family thought I must not like the peanuts, since I was sucking all of the chocolate off and leaving the filler in a pile. When questioned, I explained, “I’m saving the seeds so I can plant an M&M tree!” Smart kid, that little Lady Fromage….

To prepare myself for donning a costume this Saturday night, I’ve volunteered to spend this evening dressed as a white rabbit at my company’s Fun House. The theme, I’m told, is Alice in Wonderland. However, the box depicts the rabbit suit in a pastel vest and a few décor items that have passed by so far have been in the same Easter colors. Either someone has their holidays mixed up or we’re going extremely low budget and reusing supplies from this spring. Regardless, I’ll be hiding under a giant furry bunny costume, which thank God, hides my face.

This will not be my first appearance in an animal costume. I have experience as a brown bear, advertizing for Bank of the West. Sometimes I danced on the street corner with a “Free Checking” sign. Less often, but much preferred to dancing on the corner (The ONLY experience I have doing anything from a street corner…), I attended events where the majority of children were terrified instead of entertained. I imagine a 5’6” rodent in a vest will be less threatening than the bear, but I won’t know for a few hours yet. I’ll let you know on Monday

Check Under the Bed

Last night when I turned on the light in our bedroom, I saw one leg peeking out from under the bed. One black shoe, one denim pant leg… They looked like LT Fromage’s clothes, but he was following behind me. This could only mean one of two things: there was a dead man’s body shoved under the bed, or there was a live man’s body under the bed, but either way it couldn’t be good.

What it turned out to be was no body under the bed, just the evidence of a messy LT Fromage who had dropped his clothes on the floor before taking a nap. Phew! We had a good laugh about it and later, I tried to hide and replicate the scene and scare LT Fromage; however he could see that I was up to something, suspected my sneaky plan and wasn’t shocked.

It made us remember another time I thought someone was under the bed.

When LT Fromage was in Georgia for a few months he stayed in barracks type housing, so when I flew out for a visit, we booked a hotel. I don’t remember which one we stayed at, but it was a reputable chain so we were both a little put off when we arrived only to find it was, well, not what we were used to. I seem to remember LT Fromage debating returning to his room to bring back his gun for the weekend…

The first night we were there I woke up in the wee hours of the morning needing a diet soda. As I lied there in the dark debating whether I should get up, get dressed, dig out a dollar in change, venture outside and down the stairs to the soda machine, which happened to have only Coke products (gag!), or try and wait the craving out (Ultimately, I did go get the soda. My will power is not that strong) I listened to LT Fromage breathing. We had been doing the long distance thing for a year by then and it was so nice to wake up and hear him next to me. I started to drift back to sleep thinking of what a wonderful life it was, resting next to the man I loved, my dog sleeping next to the bed… Wait? What?

I didn’t bring the dog. 70 pound Satchel did not fly to Georgia with me. Who else was breathing in that room? Unless someone was under the bed.

I pushed lightly on LT Fromage, “wake up… hey…. Wake up!” When he rolled over, eyes barley open, I whispered (very quietly, I didn’t want to let on to the man-under-the-bed that I knew he was there!) “Will you look under the bed?”

LT Fromage was confused. “Why? What’s under the bed?”

If someone was hiding under that bed, I didn’t want them to know that I knew they were there! We needed the element of surprise so I didn’t mention the suspected man-under-the-bed, “Just look! Please!”

LT Fromage rolled over and peeked under the bed. Nothing. “What was that about?” he asked again.

I breathed a sigh of relief and told him I thought I heard someone breathing under there (it must have been a withdrawal symptom from my lack of carbonated beverages). Assured that we were safe, I was ready to go back to sleep, but LT Fromage sat straight up and asked a fair question:

“Wait a minute! You thought someone was under the bed, and you sent me to look without so much as a warning! I was groggy and had no idea what I was getting into! What good was that going to do us?”

I guess when you look at it that way…

So last night, when I saw the leg, I made sure to announce why I needed LT Fromage to hurry in, “Because I’m pretty sure there’s a dead man under the bed!”