Three Shows and a Party

This month has been hectic as hell. Dylan started the month with a show, put up another by mid month. We had a party for Halloween, the best holiday of the year, and now Dylan is off to the coast for yet another show. Funny how everything is slow and ticking along and then BOOM it is a mad dash around the race track. I won't begin to say toward the finish line because what is there to finish. Each day you get up and start back over again.
School is going swimmingly. I would love to say that I am now use to the freshman, but alas, that has yet to happen. They are still frightening children and I am reminded of my age when around them. Oh well. I have my freakishly high GPA once again. Go me. And we are almost 20% of the way done. I think Dylan is going to go ahead and apply for grad school. So that will be fun. While he is busy making beautiful things, I will be busy making the house beautiful. We have decided that after the wedding there will be no more events resembling a party that have more than 10 participants including us. Too much prep, and we are WAYYYYY to swamped. So that is that. I got my last big Halloween extravaganza before settling into a life more ordinary.

Wedding Blues

I don't know if my limited readers have heard the news, but Dylan and I are engaged. Yeah! However there is a ton to do. No really, a TON to do. I am exhausted already. We have picked out my dress, decided we are going to buy Dylan a tux. The location is set, we are debating on the weekend, and as for everything else it is slowly lining up. There is still crazy amounts to do. Why do people get excited about this mess. It is work just plain crazy amounts of work. I will keep everyone informed.

Clay Bodies Exhibition

I am excited. Dylan has a show this Saturday. Actually, truth be told, I am exhausted. I am catering the event. I don't see how he is hanging in there. But 1,200 little men in one place makes me happy. Hope to see you there.

Saturday, October 4, 2008
7:00pm - 9:00pm
BLY Fine Arts Center
Dunn Street, Eupora MS

A condom story

Dylan gets home in twelve days. I swear I have other things to talk about. Moving on.

So Cecelia is now six. I was not with her for her birthday. She was with her dad's parents in Maryland. When I get pictures, I will share them. We are also not having her birthday until she and Dylan are both home. Right now she is in Chicago at the American Girl Factory picking out her American Girl Doll. She and Dylan have birthdays a day apart and will be forced to come to agreeance on the terms of cake. He likes carrot, she likes chocolate, I do not see a particularly pleasing combination of the two... I will take pictures then as well. I am excited though. I remember 6 being a particularly fun year. We will see.

Little bit of office drama. I keep a jar of condoms on my desk. They make me happy. Especially when my boss lady continually goes on trips to National and International STD conferences and brings bowlfuls back. Since she and her partner do not need such, and her other researcher is married, I am the target for receiving mass quantities of prophylactics. At first, I politely declined. Then I got a candy jar and started filling it. It is now bursting at the seams and I have the option of using the colored condoms to carefully construct and appealing desk caddy. Makes me happy By George. That is, until a week and a half ago.

I have just moved out of a cubicle-ridden holding tank, into an office with another coworker. While Sheena and I once again are in pre-fab modular furniture, we have a window, frosted glass dividers, a conference table, and security clearance. Very snazzy indeed. All was well in the world until a bunch of fratastic good ol' boys came to assemble our new furniture. Since we were kicked out of the room they had the run of the place. And they used it. Not a single thing was disturbed, save my jar of condoms. Would you believe the little brats stole all the colored condoms. Didn't take the female condoms. Didn't take the ribbed ones. Didn't take the flavored ones. Just the colors- green mainly. Left my one red one in the front like I had it.

I laughed, but it pissed me off to be honest. So I called their supervisor, who happens to be the owner's son. I am not naming names here, but these boys work at the only office supply store in town and the owners give off a rather polished, uptight old Starkville feel. He was a bit horrified. The statement "I'm sorry, you are missing your what?" was uttered after a rather lengthy pause. I repeated, "I am missing most of the colored condoms from the candy jar on my desk." He assured me it would be dealt with promptly.

Later the next day I had a rather red-faced young man apologize and tell me the grandiose bullsh*t story that they accidentally knocked over the jar, the condoms fell out, and they put them back in. If I was missing any, they were probably in the boxes I had yet to unpack. Yeah, right. I knew the story is crap, he knew the story is crap. He just has to deal with the fallout of a bad prank gone wrong. Seriously, who wouldn't notice that one of the two personal trinkets on their desk was tampered with? I thanked him for apologizing and moved on.

Sheena brought me more the next day. But the story isn't over. No, a few days later when the guys came back to repair some of the furniture that was damaged during assembly, the condoms mysteriously "reappeared" in one of the boxes that I know for a fact was condom free. And when owner came back to make sure we were satisfied, he asked if I had "Found those things that had been misplaced." Those little brats planted them back in my stuff. It is funny, Sheena can't believe I called them out on it.

I just wish I was a fly on the wall when he went to go talk to them!

Vacation at home

I have spent the week at home. It has been rather enjoyable. I have cleaned, organized, relaxed, cleaned, mowed the lawn, watched TV, cleaned, worked in the yard, and frankly enjoyed my time alone.

Michelle and I decided to make a summer investment of an above ground pool. Since I have a large dog, we put the pool in her backyard. Two solid days of shoveling sand and we finally had a level surface to put the pool on. Go us. This afternoon I took a nice dip and time for a good read.

I sound so dull. I have nothing to say really. I will try to work on that. I am sure I will have some bit gossip or venting when I get back to work tomorrow... We will see...

Thoughts from Israel

So Dylan sent a couple of photos this morning. This is one of them. Among his notes for the day, I was instructed to "toughen up, use my anger, and picnic more". I really love this man. I hope he is having fun and not getting shot. It seems those recent Hamas killings are painfully close.

7 weeks and counting.

Dylan has been gone two weeks. Two long weeks. (Only 7 to go). I have now found a new reason to wish his return comes sooner, the lawn. While I should know that the lawn is not out to get me, I really do wonder if each blade of grass is holding a grudge against me. I don't think it would be that bad if I were not allergic to grass. It only takes one hour to mow the entire lawn. The problem is that it takes 6 to mildly recover. I have learned however that if I take a dose of Benedryl 30 minutes before I leave the house, then when it sets in and makes me overly hyper and jittery the physical exertion of mowing seems much more a distraction than a chore. After I mow, however, I wish for death and can usually be found laying on the cold tile of my house for two hours with a wet rag on my head trying to make the throbbing stop. I cannot wait until Cecelia is old enough to mow...


Other than that, life is moving along. I have taken 4 geography quizzes and one test. The class is rather dull and my only complaint is the fact that because it is online the dates of assignments and tests follow no logical pattern. I believe quiz 5 is due on Saturday. Very odd. Oh well. All things considered, I can't complain too terribly much. My "test" took me a grand total of 13 minutes to finish. And this class alone is the ONLY thing keeping my from my social studies certification. Scary.

After a complete and utter disregard for my wheat allergy, I am once again back on the wheatless bandwagon. So if you love me, don't offer to treat me to anything that has it involved, most likely I will succumb to peer pressure only to regret it later. Angela, my boss, reminds me that it can be correlated to an addiction and I need to treat it as such. Fall off the wagon, get back on, try again. And I know not an addiction in the drug variety but in the mental dependency of love the stuff it is everywhere, surely a bite won't hurt me. HA! I realized it was time to start over when I woke up and could not open a coke top my hands hurt so bad and sitting indian style was an impossibility. I don't miss too much. Cake mainly. But who wants to actually have their cake AND eat it too?

I'm a delinquent. I admit it.

I am trying to think what all has happened in the last two weeks. Basically, Dylan left for the summer. Yep, that sums most of what has been going on. Today is officially the one week mark. Only eight more to go. I don't think I was terribly mopy until this weekend. Arthur had Cecelita so I was here alone, with my thoughts. Which wasn't all bad, actually I would be lying if I said it was anything other than wonderful. I read all weekend. Literally ALL weekend.

Marcus, my brother-in-law mentioned that the Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer, was worth a read. They are actually in the young adult section, but I readily admit I devoured them all the same. I ordered the first one weeks ago and it has been sitting in my kitchen. Immediately upon finishing it, I raced to Barnes & Noble and grabbed the second and third. I finished the second in one sitting and forced myself to ignore the third until I had done my homework and studied for my Geology test.

Yes, I am taking a summer class. How is it going you ask? Well, it is terribly dreary to take a class online, but I am completely certain I made the right decision.

I am such a girl. I do not think that is a bad thing. But present nonetheless. I am watching Pride and Prejudice and quietly missing my dear Dylan. Oh well. I am starting to get into the routine of the summer. The only thing I have not quite mastered is the lawn. That escapes me. I have to mow it tomorrow. Unless someone would like to do it for me...

Kittens and Power points

Dylan brought home a kitten last night. I will admit it is adorable. He found it along Highway 9 in Eupora crying in a Yucca plant. It looks like the perfect combination of Cy and Begley. It needs another home. Three cats and a dog is beginning to make me feel like some defunct version of Noah's Ark.

I find humor that immediately following a post of my proclamation of enjoying my job, I am going to say this week is rather hellish. Yep, that should do it. This week is really really awful. Thank heavens it is Friday.

Chlamydia and Jell-O Salad

Most of you that know me, know what I do for a living. I work for a researcher and therefore, I am a researcher. My boss mainly sticks to societal deviants, alcohol, drugs, sex, crime, you get the drift. And I love my job. I do. It is bizarre no doubt, but it makes me happy. And I am good at it. Believe it or not, it is hard to meet people and get them to spill out their most intimate secrets to a stranger without feeling like there will be repercussions. That is what I am there for, I learn the nitty-gritty of your life, without passing judgment, so my boss can compile you with umpteen other people to figure out how to curb large portions of society from hitting rock bottom.

A month ago, I set up a time to meet with a girl for such an interview. She cancelled upon my arrival. I only get really annoyed when I travel more than two hours, this trip was three and a half, in the rain, a storm actually. I was not impressed. But we rescheduled, and I went back, only to have my computer crash, and I had to finish half an interview by hand. Oh well. Upon completion of an interview, I am supposed to collect a urine sample to be tested for Chlamydia and gonorrhea. She didn't need to go. Three glasses of water and 45 minutes later, she finally went, and brought back said specimen. We went through the song and dance about how I would call and let her know the results, etc. etc. Most of these girls I have to flip through notes a bit to remember specifics. This girl stuck out in my mind do to the surroundings. Yesterday, I called to let her know the STD results.

This whole dialogue is truly what happened give or take the exact wording- the only thing I left out is Susan's mother's running monologue about how hard she worked on making the Jell-O salad and how Susan would eat it, and Bob's continued "Who you talkin to?" and attempts to distract her...(false name to protect identity- I use Bob and Susan a lot)

I asked if it was a bad time, she promptly said "no". I began to tell her the news.
"Susan, your test results came back and your specimen was positive for"
"Bob, don't be ticklin me, I am on the phone, Momma, I don't want that jell-o salad it is crap, you still there?"
"Yes, Susan I was trying to tell you about your test results, do you want me to call back later, it is rather important."
"No, Did I fail? I thought you just wanted information?"
"I did, no you didn't fail, this is about the test where I needed you to pee in a cup..."
"Look, I don't do drugs anymore."
"I wasn't testing for drugs, I was testing for..."
"I'm not pregnant am I?"
"Well, I didn't test for pregnancy just for sexually transmitted diseases"
"What are you saying"
"Susan, your results came back positive for Chlam..."
"Bob, go get my food, but none of that Jell-O shit, you still there?"
"Susan you have Chlamydia."
"Am I going to die?"
"No, this will not kill you, but it is very important you go see a doctor."
"But I am not sick, Momma, I told you no Jell-o"
"Susan Chlamydia often has no symptoms, so you don't have to feel bad to have it, but it will make your body sick."
"I just went to the doctor and he said I was fine."
"Did he take urine or do a pelvic exam?"
"A what? No, he just looked at my throat because it was sore and my nose has been stopped up."
"Susan, this is different. This affects your reproductive health. If it isn't treated, it can make you sterile... unable to have babies."
"Are you saying I won't be able to have sex? Bob, back off this lady is telling me we can't have sex and I can't have babies."
"No Susan, if you do not go see a doctor and take medicine it is possible you would not be able to have babies."
"But I can still have sex?"
"Not until you go see the doctor. If you have sex without a condom right now, you will give the Chlamydia to whoever you have sex with and they will give it back to you."
"Am I going to have this forever?"
"No, you just need to go to the doctor, and he will give you a prescription for an antibiotic, and after you take ALL of it, you should be fine."
"Is this going to go away, are you telling me it isn't going to go away?"
"No, it will go away if you take medicine, and anyone you have had sex with takes medicine, and you use condoms until you are done taking the medicine."
"I got to tell people I have this disease?"
"Susan, you need to tell the people you have had sex with that you have Chlamydia, and they may have Chlamydia, and they should go to the doctor and get tested just to be sure they do not have it also. In the meantime, you need to use condoms when you have sex. Any type of sex, even oral sex."
"I gotta do WHAT?"
"Susan, do you remember the health class where they talked about condoms, how to put them on, how they helped prevent diseases and pregnancy? This is where they will help prevent diseases. You have a disease, you will give this disease to others if they do not wear a condom."
"So how do I keep from giving it to my boyfriend?"
"Okay Susan, you need to go to the doctor, tell the doctor you have taken a test, and you have Chlamydia. Tell your doctor you have a boyfriend and ask if he needs to come in for an appointment. Until you are done with your medicine, use condoms EVERY time you have sex."
"Is that all?"
"Well, that isn't bad."
"Not bad at all. You can do this Susan. Now, what do you have to do?"
"Go to the doctor, get medicine, tell Bob to use a condom."
"Yes, exactly. Call me if there is a problem."

At this point I thought we had made progress and Susan would have things under control. When I got in this morning I had a message from Susan, from Bob, and another message from Susan. I called Susan back. We started at the beginning of the conversation. It will be interesting to see what tomorrow brings.

Love Bunny's Little Men

So I am completely floored and in awe of my love bunny. Dylan was sweet enough last night to tell me that he thinks he may be a bit over extended (HA!) . As such, he has decided to forgo teaching in the fall. I am thrilled beyond belief. (I feel like a bad person saying that.) He had already decided that teaching four classes was a bit much, and we were down to two. So then after he had a board meeting last night, he realized he missed making his little men. And since we are planning on having two years before he is supposed to start grad school, he really doesn't have much time left to have stockpiles of art. I was also informed that a gallery in Texas is planning on doing a solo show of his work in August (I will give more details later) and that he is in contact with three others for a few select items. So I am excited and anxious, and generally all butterfly filled.

I never updated about the Cotton District Arts Festival. We had a blast. He did great. I learned, or was painfully reminded, that a happy Aly is a well fed and watered Aly. So besides the one cranky outburst at 9:45 when Dylan promptly fed me a granola bar, I had fun. Okay, so by 4 I was exhausted, hot, mildly sunburned, and ready to have a real toilet, but other than that having fun. He sold out of heads. I am going to put a picture up in a minute. And I made him raise the price of his little men. At first he protested, and I told him to trust me. The little ones I left at $20, and the rest I bumped up to $25. And to be perfectly honest, I randomly selected a dozen or so to be $30, and those sold the quickest. I guess that just demonstrates supply and demand. But it was funny to watch. People would pick up two and try to decide which one and ask the cost, and I would tell them it is on the bottom, and they would proceed to immediately put the less expensive one down. I know I am a horrible person, I used his art in my own little anthropological experiment. I will repent next year. Maybe. He just shook his head and chuckled when I told him.

So I stole a head. We later found a box while repacking all the men for later. I have heard people talk about how sometimes a face of one of the men speaks to you, but I am so enthralled with all of them together, I never wanted to look at them as individuals. So now I have a head on my desk. I love his coloring, his ears, his barely crooked nose. He makes me happy.

Vacuums and Polygamy

Today is Friday. All I want to do is go home and vacuum. Is that sad? Probably. I have not had the chance to vacuum the floors in my house for nearly two weeks. It is completely repulsive. The fact that I have been utterly swamped at work, have been sick, and last but not least, caring for a dog in a body cast, aside- I should have clean floors.

Actually I just want to go home and vacuum and then mop, and then do laundry, all the while watching Season 2 of Big Love. I do enjoy that show. Frankly, I think that we should legalize polygamy. It makes perfect sense to me. If is were legal it could be regulated. At least someone, somewhere would have to show papers as to why a 14 year old was married to a 43 year old. At least make a civil union of some description. I see no difference in the right to marry as many people as you wish, as the right to marry whatever gender you wish. However you want to build your household should be your decision. Lord knows, I would not object to a helping hand. Or four.

An apple in the hand

I am watching CBS Sunday Morning. I do not know if you have ever seen this show, but it is really rather wonderful. Light-hearted news around the country. The current feature is discussing "hand models". All I can say is these people are crack pots. Seriously, they have a woman who owns over 500 pairs of gloves and makes her kids buckle her shoes and open doors for her. I understand job security, but that seems just a bit ridiculous.

For breakfast this morning I had my near famous wheat-less pancakes. I am trying all new manner of sins to cover the fact that they taste a bit like cardboard that dissolves into sand upon chewing. Today I tried fried apples on top. It was edible. They still need more. Now they remind me of apple pie with sand. I am working on it. Any suggestions I will gladly accept. Until then, I am going to take a nap and enjoy what is left of my Sunday Morning without a small person.

Exhaustion and Letting Go

I could not get to sleep last night. Dylan was out working in the country. Well he said he was. I assumed he was. The last few times I tried to call or leave a sweet text I learned he was in his office trying to nap and I woke him up. So now I refrain. Give him space, let him be, let him create. Dating an artist is tricky some days. I tried to explain this one day. I tried to explain how that I am perfectly fine giving all the space in the world, I just need a commitment first. If I do not have a commitment then I do not know if I am letting go forever, but with a commitment, I know he is coming back and he can have all the time in the world. He said he understood completely and it sucked. I told him that was understandable and would he be back in time for dinner the next night. He wasn't. Typical. He did crawl in bed at about 11.


Next weekend is the Cotton District Arts Festival. I know he is swamped and he is trying to get the last few pieces ready before then. I just want a quiet night alone with him. He leaves May 26 for Israel. Well, London first, then Israel. Only 63 days. He shaved off 18 for me. That was sweet. I am so nervous. Last summer we were new, this summer should be old hat. But it isn't. I doubt it ever will be. I don't have Daddy to take care of the leaky faucets and remind me to mow the lawn while D is gone. I miss Dad. This summer is going to suck. I use to leave work and go have a drink with Dad and get my male fix for the day. Now it will be left to my cats. (Which are quite possibly the most effeminate beings on the planet.)

I dropped Cecelita off with her Dad tonight. They were both in good moods. Mom went with me. She and I had not had a good talk in a while. It was nice. Calming. I love talking to her and my sisters and yet at the same time it is when we have those somber moments that I am jerked back into the reality of having lost my father.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of mine and D's first kiss. That is right. Our first kiss was on Friday the 13th. It is actually kind of fitting if you know us. We had a bit of a rocky start. I asked him out, and he stared at me blankly and responded via email later that afternoon. We went out and I blew him off for a firefighter. He hung in there though and suffered through being turned down twice and once my honestly not knowing who was on the phone. (I know, I am awful.) But somehow we made it through and after dating two months he finally kissed me. Actually I kissed him. He refused to kiss me after I told him that I had a phobia about kissing and explained how it started at church camp after hearing a song about eating sushi and relating it to sucking on a bucket of tentacle slime. Somehow the image stuck with me and the thought of someone's tongue in my mouth would immediately conjure up that prepubescent image. So, I had to kiss him. Voila! I think we have done fairly well since then. That is if you give us credit for putting up with the craziness of the other party. (Although he swears that I am the one who is off in the relationship- I can't say I disagree.)

Yep, still sleepy. Still can't sleep. I have however found an amazing website. Songza.com. Enter artist or title and it will pull up 'bout darn near every piece of music close and let you listen away. It makes me happy. At present I am listening to Let Go by Frou Frou and will be on to Cornflake Girl by Tori Amos soon. I am in a somber mood. Misty really. I want to cry and just don't have the energy. Don't know if there is any one reason in particular. I guess I just want a catharsis. I will have to save it for another night. Lately I feel too tired even for that.

I did get the dog bathed and the tub scrubbed today. Go me. Oh, and I also went through Cecelia's ENTIRE wardrobe and learned that I got off easy last year and didn't have to buy anything because she barely grew. Not so this year. She has actually grown an inch in 22 days. Impressive really. So we spent a small fortune today restocking her closet. I am most proud of a shirt that has a whale on it. I like cartoon whales. They make me happy.

Ritual Sacrifice or Beauty Customs?

Last night, Dylan and I had a dinner party to attend. This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but I have recently realized I tend to suck at being appropriately attired. As such, I am trying desperately to learn how to be dressy, but not too dressy, and just what exactly the term "business casual" means. I go to work in jeans and cute tops with sandals or flip flops typically. Dressy days I will actually wear slacks, but I feel ridiculous and normally pair them with a t-shirt and vest. I love skirts. The majority of my summer attire includes a skirt. And a random shirt that may or may not match. That is just how it is. I am never really faulted for it. Except at dinner parties.

Dinner parties are different. Art events are different. I don't know how, but they are. Maybe I am just compelled to conform, who knows. Whatever it is, I am having to learn to consciously match and coordinate. Very trying for a gal who goes out of her way not to do so. Last night I wore an adorable melon colored dress with gold bangles, gold chandelier earrings, and gold Jesus sandals. (See the color coordinating? I know I was proud of myself.) I thought I looked great. I am learning men have a different opinion. According to Dylan, I had no "shape" and resembled a "Grecian pumpkin". This empire waist craze will be the death of me.

It did occur to me while trying to get ready that men do not have this problem. Dylan came home, took a shower, shaved, put on his suit sans tie, and was ready to go. I however, came home, took a shower, shaved legs, lotioned, dried hair with a diffuser, curled strategic pieces, plucked eyebrows, painted toe- and fingernails, put in contacts, put on make-up, put hair up, got dressed, stood in front of mirror, took hair down, put on jewelry and shoes, stood in front of mirror, switched jewelry and shoes, decided to put hair back up, stood in front of mirror, switched shoes, and left. Being a girl is hard work. I do like the painted nails look. They are gold like my toes. Fun to see flash while I type. I doubt they will make it through the weekend. Dylan is fond of it though. And that is another interesting point. Why do men seem to be the most fond of appearances that take the most effort? It is rather tricky to paint nails left-handed when you are a righty. Oh well.

I am including a clip from Dove. I feel this statement is so true for our society. I am no different. I paint Cecelia's toes once a week, I spend $18 for hair spray especially designed for her curly tresses, and I don't let her pick out her own clothes because frankly the combinations are too ghastly for me to bear. (I know: bad Mommy, no biscuit.)

And I am still willing to pay up to $150 for a decent pair of blue jeans. I just haven't found them yet!

Hi, My name is Alyson and I'm a blogger.

As if I do not have enough on my plate, I am adding blogging to the list. It seems this grand fad is here to stay and I might as well follow everyone else's lead. Where to begin, is there a typical beginning for one of these?

This past weekend, I traveled to Memphis to catch up with a few old friends. The purpose of the trip was to see Jessica, a recent addition to the "human incubator" club, but she was sweet enough to let me disappear to catch up with Jordan as well.

Memphis was nice. I got to have a much needed visit with Jessica, and spent way too much time in Babies R' Us continually insisting that yes, she should register for outlet covers, because one can never have enough safety products. She had a baby shower for one of her friends on Saturday and I snuck away to visit Jordan.

Here is where I am going to share a rather odd occurrence. I had yet to see J's house and was thrilled to learn I only had to drive 4 blocks to get there. However, upon my arrival I learned they were not back from running errands. It was amazingly sweet of them to leave me a means into their house until they arrived. (By this I mean I think they forgot to lock it.) I LOVE their house. It is gorgeous, and it suits them perfectly.

I want to go on record that one of the strangest feelings on the planet is waiting for someone in their house while they are gone. Especially if you have never been there before. I felt like there were Nanny-cams hidden throughout waiting for me to open the medicine cabinets. J told to me look around and I did, politely, and four minutes later had no clue what to do with myself. Typically it would be then that I would turn on the TV. I tried, I failed. (Saunders- if you have been trying to figure out why there is sound and no picture now you know why!) I picked out one of the books on the self. I sat down to read.

I read the note from the author, realized I was freezing, and there were no throws. It seemed perfectly logical to assume if I had dry hair I would be warm. I just needed a hairdryer. I went to the guest bathroom, (why there would be a spare hairdryer there I don't know), but I hated going into their bathroom. There was no hairdryer in the guest bath. I proceeded into the bedroom. I am sure at this point I looked insane as I began to talk to myself and chant what I was doing and why. I felt certain the invisible Nanny-cams would understand my plight if I spoke it aloud. There was no hairdryer in the master bath. But adjoining the bath was the closet, and in the closet was a dresser, and in the dresser there might be socks. Socks, that would work. I once again loudly announced I was just trying to get warm and was switching plans to hunting socks. Top drawer, no socks, second drawer- Bingo. I chose a lovely gray pair with white polka dots and went back to the living room with a book. (Yes, I do see the similarities in this story and "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.")

I read the prologue. I was still freezing. Back to search for hairdryer. At last I located it. Next to the bed?!? I started to use it and then managed to suck my hair into the back, and smell that wonderful burning hair scent as I ripped the section from my scalp. I now have a small significantly shorter patch somewhere in the back. (It is probably karma for messing up their TV/surround sound combo.) With hair dry and warm toes, I went back to sit and read the next chapter.

I got thirsty. I found a cup. The cup selection was difficult I might add. I did not want glass for fear I would break it. I instead chose a plastic insulated cup to make sure I would not need a coaster in case one could not be located. I went to get water out of the fridge and managed to pour water all over the fridge door and floor due to the fact that the insulated layer made it too big to fit above the ledge. Found paper towels. Hunted and found trash can. Went back and began to read-again.

It was then that they finally came back. Thank the Lord, because I am sure next I would accidentally set their couch on fire. It was like some bad comedy of errors. I kept waiting for someone to jump out of the closet and go "Ah Ha!" And yet, when I explained that I used the hairdryer and got socks, neither Jordan nor Saunders seemed phased at all. So I guess they have people break into their house frequently and put on their clothes and use their appliances or I am just known for bizarre behavior. Either way, thanks for the socks!