Blog on Demand

My beautiful and dear friend, Braids, has tagged me to blog. Can't you see I'm busy, busy, busy. Finals are sneaking up. I'm going on vacation in a few weeks. The holidays. But just for you, my little redheaded bunny, I will blog but I won't play tag. Sorry, nothing personal, I just hate those chain letter sort of things.


She said she wanted 5 somethings "weird and random" about me.


When driving down an aisle in a parking lot, I have to park to the left. Just feels better.

Scottish men or any other man using a Scottish accent, especially Boyfriend, ranting about anything makes me laugh hysterically.

When I was young, I enjoyed banana and mayonnaise sandwiches. Now I'm allergic to bananas.

I'm scared of sloths.

I can't say "contiguous".



There. Now here's something not so random.


I snorkeled in the bathtub the other night. Here is why it is not so random. I'm going scuba diving in 15 days. Actually, that's a lie. I'm going scuba diving tomorrow but that's going to be in a swimming pool and that doesn't count.


Let me back up. About two months ago, Boyfriend walked into my office and said "We are going to the Cayman Islands to go diving for a week." I said, "Okay, sure, whatever." Why did I say this? Because Boyfriend is always telling me we are going somewhere and we rarely go. But then a few days later he walked into my office to tell me the tickets were purchased. Imagine Pollywog's look of surprise. Yep, looks like we are leaving on a jet plane. We are spending a week at a dive resort in Little Cayman, the smallest of the three Cayman Islands. 10 miles long, one mile wide, population 60.



















Anyway, I have to get certified to scuba dive. I just finished reading the manual and my theory and pool classes are tomorrow and Sunday. I will do my four open water dives for full certification at the island. But I did want to test my new mask and snorkel so I snorkeled in the bathtub. Turns out all these little intsy bintsy bubbles stick to the walls of the tub underwater and you can write your name in 'em.


So there it is. One random and one not so random thing. Now I must go to sleep and rest up for the big pool diving so I can get ready for this......

It's so true.

I know I haven't blogged in a while. Ever go through a period where everything you have to blog about is negative and whiny? I was waiting for something good.

My father used to say that the most important communication in any relationship always occurred in the kitchen. It's so true. Parties always end up with people packed in my kitchen which is the smallest room in my house.

Some nights, for no particular reason, Boyfriend and I will spend an entire evening in the kitchen. Last night, I got home from work and he was already in the kitchen making beef stroganoff. I made guacamole. Two great tastes that taste great together. So, we went into the dining room and ate dinner but after cleaning up, (and this has happened several other times) we end up staying in the kitchen with a bottle of wine and "70's Soft Pop" playing on the radio. We come up with a topic for conversation and laugh and laugh and laugh. Absurd statements are made such as "Wilcox? The question is when is he 'Won'tcox'?" and "Whereas I'm the mayor, I hereby declare this My Wife Dresses Up Like a Catholic School Girl and Blows Me Day" and my favorite quote of the evening, "The horns are still phat in Carpenterland. Andy GibbLand, not so much."
Occasionally, we run out of conversation which is good because it leaves time for stupid dancing. I've searched and cannot find but think of Joan Cusack dancing in the neck brace in Sixteen Candles. It's much like that. And it's usually to some fine piece of musical history like Another Saturday Night by Cat Stevens.
My point is I live for these evenings. Sometimes I get soooooooo focused on the crap I don't realize how much I need to let it go just for a night. There is never any warning that these evenings are coming, so it's such a gift when they appear.
Sometimes I think all I'll ever need is bad 70's tunes, a good bottle of wine and my favorite boy in the smallest room in my house.