Little Tidbits From Today

Today was an interesting one to say the least. One of those days that starts as a "glass half full" kind of day and ends as a "someone pissed in my glass and I drank it" kind of day. You know what I'm talking about. It started off innocently enough- I had a great night's sleep that was accompanied by a great dream that centered around my return to IU weekend. Carrie and I were frolicking down Kirkwood, shopping at Pitaya and ruling the Biz tables. The best part was that every time I woke up from this dream and fell back asleep, I picked right back up from where I left off. It was the magical culmination of a rested night and God tickling my eyelids with the thoughts of what is in store for me when I head to B-Town. I got up, showered, made my coffee, and arrived at school at 7:28 (a blissful two minutes early- early enough to not be late and not too early to actually have to DO WORK before I am supposed to start doing it). Jenny and I breezed through a lot of mundane work and finally made it to lunch where everything started going downhill. Now, because of the nature of my profession, I can't actually disclose what happened next. Let me just say that it was enough to make we want to accidently fall, hit my head, and find myself awaking from a long, blissful coma where I feel well-rested, just happened not to age and in fact became even more fabulous with all of my newfound rest. Isn't that awful?

This brings me to the fantasy that I just shared for the first time with Sharon after surviving yet another Goldstar meeting. For those of you who don't know what Goldstar is, don't ask. You will feel stupider after I explain it to you. As I was getting out of Sharon's car to get into my own hoopty, Sharon told me to get some rest. We both shared the usual, "I wish we didn't have to go to work tomorrow" and I told her "Don't you secretly wish that you could get just sick enough or hurt yourself just bad enough to wind up in the hospital for a few days so you could get some rest?" Sharon, of course, looked at me like I was crazy as any sane person would. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? In my defense, I am not wishing anything terrible on myself. I of course do not want some terrible illness or some life-alerting injury and I KNOW that these are not things to speak of lightly. But how nice would it be just to be forced to lay around for a day or two while someone brings you trays of food while you catch up on Ellen and Real Housewives reruns? Seriously. I don't even have kids yet and I already feel like I need a vacation. Sheesh.

I finally arrived home from work at 7:30 and John and I decided to walk the three blocks to get Fro-Yo. That was the answer to all that was wrong with my day. The hazards of going to Fro-Yo include:

- Walking there in the dark with no sidewalks
- Running into EVERY. STUDENT. I. KNOW. Either on the way there, standing in line, or walking back. Now I'm no celebrity, but when I see these students they usually totally ignore me even though I had a lengthy conversation with them THAT DAY. Note to all students: yes, I know who you are and I probably even know your name because I am THAT good. You do NOT have to avoid me like the plague because I will not strip search you for the marijuana you are undoubtedly carrying on you or ask you embarrassing questions about your grades in front of your pimply boyfriend/girlfriend. Just so you know, I am totally cool with the fact that you still get sprinkles on your ice cream- I do too.
- Walking back in the dark with no sidewalks with the extra hazard of enjoying your yummy ice cream and paying no attention to sidewalks or oncoming traffic

This walk to Fro-Yo was especially interesting because, as we turned back onto our street, two police officers followed us veeeerrrryyy slowly until one of them pulled up and said, "Excuse me folks, did either of you see a guy with red hair walking up and down this street a bit ago?" To which replied, "Look, dude, we just came from Fro-Yo and you saw us turn on this street seconds ago. It is pitch dark out and even if we did see a random ginger walking up and down this street we would have paid him NO attention. You would know that if you cased this street more and saw just WHAT walks up and down it every day." I may be paraphrasing a little. He thanked us for our time and went on his way. John hit the nail on the head when he said that the fine officer didn't tell us why he was looking for a redheaded wanderer on Kooy Avenue. I guess cops don't normally present statements to civilians such as, "Excuse me folks, did you see a redheaded ax-murderer wandering up and down this street or waiting in the bushes for you to come home?" I think I will sleep with one eye open tonight.

This brings me to the present in which I am writing this blog and waiting for John to stop dinkin' around so that we can watch last night's episode of Lost. I have been listening to him all night and he has been practicing the Ludacris rap portion of Justin Bieber's "Baby" so that he can "rap" it to his sophomore girls soccer team tomorrow if they win. The thing is, he keeps mixing it up with parts of the Ludacris rap part in "Yeah" which are two totally different things and speak to two totally different age groups and ladies in general. Tacked on to the end of this rap, he keeps yelling "Rough sex, make it hot" and something about mother f-ers. So, to all of you reading this blog, please do the following for me:

1. If I put out a desperate cry for help or give you a creepy call in the middle of the night, know that the redheaded killer probably found a way into our house

2. Pray that John doesn't get his raps mixed up tomorrow and loses his job for being highly inappropriate to a batch of 16 year old girls

AND

3. Hope that I don't wake up with Leprosy, Hemorrhoids, or drive my car off a cliff for that "wanting to be in the hospital" comment

Until the next post, don't answer the doors for anyone with red hair if you live in the Munster area...just in case.